Mallowsmores

Marshmallows are a happy food. Usually even picky eaters can be coaxed into eating a marshmallow and my children (not picky eaters when it comes to sugar) beam when presented with marshmallows. What's not to like? They are sweet, squishy, gooey, and totally delicious. Especially when homemade. Homemade marshmallows were the first thing I ever blogged about.The blog gave me an excuse to make cool things I'd always wanted to try making. The marshmallows were such a success that I have made them several times since then.

Having "mastered" the marshmallow, my husband started dropping hints that I should now tackle a childhood favorite cookie of his, a marshmallow Puff - a cookie base, topped with a marshmallow, and all of this coated with chocolate. The same ingredients as that camping staple, the s'more. In reasearching the cookie I was amazed at how popular this combo is. In the USA, Mallomars are king, but around the globe there are different but very similar versions. In Canada they're called Whippet Cookies, in the UK it is a Tunnock's teacake, in Australia Arnott's Chocolate Royal's fill the gap. Israel's Creambo is wildly popular and Denmark, Germany, Finland, Switzerland, and New Zealand all have their own version.

In my quest for the right recipe, once again, the library came through for me. I checked out a book called The Ultimate Chocolate Cookie Book and found a recipe for chocolate marshmallow cookies. I altered it slightly to use homemade marshmallows, but you can use store-bought and I won't tell. Your friends and family will be impressed either way and won't ask too many questions when you offer them a beautiful chocolate-dipped, marshmallow topped cookie (whatever you choose to call it).

Mallowsmores
adapted from The Ultimate Chocolate Cookie Book

Makes about 3 dozen small cookies

1 cup plus 3 Tbsp all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
8 Tbsp (1 stick) cool, unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/2 cup plus 1 Tbsp sugar
2 Tbsp honey
1 large egg yolk, at room temperature
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup graham cracker crumbs
18 large marshmallows (homemade or store bought)
12 oz bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped

1- Whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl until well combined; set aside.

2- Soften the butter in a large bowl, using an electric mixer at medium speed, about 1 minute. Add the sugar and beat the mixture until fluffy and light, about 1 more minute. Beat in the honey, scrape down the sides of the bowl, and beat in the egg yolk and vanilla. Continue beating until airy and light, about 30 seconds.

3- Using a wooden spoon or rubber spatula stir in the graham cracker crumbs. Then stir in the prepared flour mixture just until incorporated. The batter will be very soft but will hold together. Form it into a ball, wrap in plastic wrap, flatten into a thick disk, seal, and place in the refrigerator until firm but not rock hard, about 1 hour, but not more than 3 hours.

4- Meanwhile, position the rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 deg. F.

5- When firm, divide the dough in half; flatten each half a bit. Place each half between two fresh sheets of plastic wrap; lay one piece of dough on your work surface and return the other to the refrigerator. Roll the disk into a square 1/4 inch thick. Remove the top sheet of plastic wrap and cut the dough into small squares, about 1-1/2". If you have leftovers, gather them together, cover with plastic wrap, chill, and reroll in an hour. If you're using store-bought marshmallows, cut the dough into circles, about 1 to 1-1/2" across.

6- Use a metal spatula to transfer the cut-out squares to a large, ungreased baking sheet, preferably nonstick, spacing them about 1 inch apart. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes, or until lightly browned and somewhat springy to the touch.

7- While the cookies are baking, cut the marshmallows in half horizontally.

8- The moment the cookies come out of the oven, while they're still hot and on the baking sheet, place one cut marshmallow sticky side down on each cookie, so that the marshmallow begins to soften. Once all the cookies are topped, go over them all again, pressing down slightly to that the marshmallow mushes to the edge of the cookie. Cool the cookies completely on the baking sheet.

9- Repeat with the second batch of dough.

10- Once all the cookies are cool, place the chocolate in a medium bowl that fits snugly over a medium pot with an inch of simmering water. Stir until the chocolate has almost melted, being careful not to let any steam get into the chocolate. Remove from the heat and continue stirring until all the chocolate has melted. Transfer to a deep bowl for dipping and cool for 5 minutes.

11- Lay a large sheet of plastic wrap on your work surface, then set a wire rack on top of the plastic wrap. Pick up one cookie and dip it marshmallow side down into the melted chocolate, letting the chocolate come up to the crisp cookie and cover its side but not the bottom. Pull the cookie u, gently shake any excess chocolate back into the bowl, and place the cookie marshmallow side up on the wire rack. Repeat with the remaining cookies. Let stand for about 1 hour, perhaps 90 minutes to harden.

Banana Destiny

What do you call it when you have a convergence of 3 things? From 3 separate directions you are pushed to one inescapable conclusion. Fate? Karma? The Bermuda Triangle? No, It's Banana Bundt Cake!

Recently I was going to visit a friend and needed to take along a pre-birthday cake. I could have done my "ole reliable," (a cake I could make in my sleep, which I will someday get around to posting), but frankly, I get a little bored with it. I was prowling the kitchen mulling over the possibilities when I spied the four browning bananas on the counter. Wait just a horse-drawn buggy minute! Hadn't the amazing Brilynn at Jumbo Empanadas recently raved about Dorie's banana cake? I thumbed through my copy of Baking and found it, Eureka! It called for 4 bananas! I was set!

This cake is moist and delicious, like banana bread grown up and dressed for the prom. My friend was initially downcast that I failed to bring chocolate, but the banana cake won her over. I think it's especially toothsome with caramel sauce on top, but if you really need a chocolate fix, some chocolate syrup or frosting could fix that.



Classic Banana Bundt Cake
adapted from Dorie Greenspan's Baking

3 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsps baking soda
1/2 tsp Kosher salt
2 sticks (8 oz) unsalted butter at room temperature
2 cups sugar
2 tsp pure vanilla extract
2 large eggs, at room temperature
About 4 very ripe bananas, mashed ( 1-1/2 to 1-3/4 cups)
1 cup sour cream or plain yogurt*

Center a rack in the oven and preheat it to 350 deg. F. Generously butter a 9 to 10 inch (12 cup) Bundt pan. (I have a seasoned stoneware pan that has an 11 cup capacity and it wasn't a problem.) Don't place the pan on a baking sheet as you want the heat to circulate all the way around the pan.

If you're in a rush to make this and just realized your butter and eggs aren't at room temperature, there's a secret quick fix for this. Armpits. Enlist two warm-bodied helpers and have them each put an egg or wrapped stick of butter under each armpit while you measure out the rest of the ingredients. Do not ask someone to help who isn't wearing a shirt, smells bad or is sweaty. You can figure out why. Five minutes tucked under a warm arm will take the chill of your ingredients. And if you never want to eat at my house again, fair enough.

Whisk the flour, baking soda, and salt together in a medium bowl.

In the large bowl of an electric mixer, beat the butter until creamy. Add the sugar and beat at medium speed until pale and fluffy. Beat in the vanilla, then add the eggs one at a time, beating for about 1 minute after each egg goes in. Reduce the mixer speed to low and mix in the bananas. Finally, mix in half the dry ingredients (the batter might curdle, don't fret, it'll be OK), all the sour cream and then the rest of the flour mixture. Scrape the batter into the pan, rap the pan on the counter to de-bubble the batter and smooth the top. (Since I use stoneware, I rap it on a cookbook, not wanting to shatter my pan.)

Bake for 65 to 75 minutes, or until a thin knife inserted deep into the center of the cake comes out clean. Check the cake after about 30 minutes - if it's browning too quickly, cover it loosely with a foil tent. Transfer the cake to a rack and cool for 10 minutes before unmolding onto the rack to cool to room temperature.

This cake improves with age. If you've got the time, wrap the cooled cake in plastic and let it sit on the counter overnight.

* I've made it both with sour cream and plan yogurt. If you want to trim a few calories, go ahead and use the yogurt. It's fabulous and bursting with flavor either way.

Feeling Funky

Avocados seem very 70's to me. There was Green Goddess dressing, avocado mud masks for your face, and of course your shag carpeting and kitchen appliances all had to be avocado green. When my parents were remodeling their kitchen there was quite a debate about Avocado Green versus Harvest Gold. My sister and I were strongly in the AG corner while my parents eventually won out with the HG choice. In hindsight I see the wisdom of that choice. The Harvest Gold aged much more gracefully than the Avocado Green did.

Has any fruit or vegetable ever exerted such influence over food and fashion trends before or since? It's easy to see why Americans went head over heels for avocados and their smooth, buttery taste, but it wasn't always so. They had a bad reputation to overcome. Because of their shape the Aztecs called them "ahuacatl", the same word used for a certain male part. It was said that ingesting the avocado induced tremendous prowess in the bedroom and no self-respecting person would order or consume it. Well, at least not in public.

It took a massive public education campaign to get people sold on the wonders of the avocado. Unsaturated fats, no-choelesteral, rich in dietary fiber and vitimins such as folacin, A, B6, C and minerals, plus a rich, smooth taste that makes any salad sit up and sing like Pavarotti. No need for avocados to be a guilty, secret pleasure - they can come out of the closet and onto the dinner table proudly!

I came upon this tasty salad at Orangette's beautiful site. It called to me, but seemed just a bit lonely. I solved this dilemma by adding a chunked up avocado and fell in love. I first served it cautiously as a side dish for dinner, thinking that the pickier eaters in the crowd would just push it to the side. Instead, as I got up to fetch something from the kitchen I heard a call of "Honey, is there any more of that bean salad?" Now I'll make it and share it for lunch. It's a heavenly indulgence, but still good for you!


Chickpea Verde Salad
adapted from Orangette's Chickpea Salad

1 - 15 oz. can chickpeas, drained and rinsed (I really like the Trader Joe's brand)
1 tsp fresh lemon juice
1-1/2 tsp olive oil
Pinch of coarse salt (I like the crunch of my Celtic Sea Salt here)
1/4 cup loosely packed shredded Parmigiano Reggiano
1 ripe Hass avocado, cut into chunks

Combine all the ingredients into a medium-sized bowl. Stir gently to mix Taste and adjust seasonings to your preference. Serve immediately or cover and store in the refrigerator until serving time.

This makes a generous two person lunch, or a skimpy 5 person side dish.

Labor of Love

In the United States today is Labor Day. I never really got Labor Day. It sounds like a Soviet holiday which celebrates "the workers" which you celebrate by not going to work. In truth, it's the door which slams shut on the tail of summer and opens into the school house.

I used to dread Labor Day. We were not big shoppers, so the sales held little enticement. The only way to spend the last few precious hours of freedom was preparing for captivity and watching the Jerry Lewis Labor Day telethon as a cold ball of anxiety grew in the pit of my stomach. Would I like my teachers? Would they like me? Was my wardrobe cool enough? Would I be able to understand the classes and do well? Would I be able to remember my locker combination? My recurring school nightmare for many years was that I was late for school, couldn't remember my schedule (which was different day to day), my schedule was in my locker, and I couldn't remember my locker combination.

Now that I'm an adult I'm almost free of the beginning of school dread. I say almost, because now I'm the teacher. I have been homeschooling my kids for 18 years now. My anxieties are no longer about what I'll wear (we joke that pajamas are our school uniform), or will the other kids like me ( hugs and kisses allay that fear). I worry about whether I will do a good job, whether my children grow up to be capable, competent, and kind and whether we can survive another year of math. In baking it's hard to know the end product when you're just stirring the eggs into the creamed butter and sugar and your recipe is very sketchy with no pictures. Raising children is the same. I just pray that God will fill in the gaps that I leave and trust that He will see my kids through to the end goal. In the meantime, call before you drop by. It's highly likely that at least one of us is still in pajamas.

So here is my salute to the end of summer and the garden's bounty, in particular my fabulous blueberry bushes and the beginning of a new year of learning adventures.

Celebration Blueberry Crepes

Crepes - I used the crepe recipe from pg. 233 of The Perfect Scoop (ha, you thought I could go a whole post without mentioning The Perfect Scoop?). It made beautiful crepes with nary a throwaway.

Blueberry Filling:

1/2 cup sugar
2 Tbsp cornstarch
1 cup cold water
4 cups fresh or frozen blueberries

1- In a large saucepan, combine the sugar and cornstarch. Stir in the water until smooth. Add blueberries. Bring to a boil over medium heat; cook and stir for 2 minutes or until thickened. Remove from heat; cover and keep warm while you make crepes.

Above and Beyond

The high school I attended had 7 formal dances a year. Since there were so many dances they weren't as elaborate as many schools that only have "Prom." Girls would borrow each other's dresses so they wouldn't have to buy 7 new dresses each year, and big bonus points were earned for creativity and fun on the part of the boy.

It was bad form to just call a girl up and ask her to the dance. Elaborate plans were made just for the asking phase of the dance. My sister once had a boy leave a gigantic envelope on the doorstep - it was probably 3 feet by 4 feet. It was addressed to her and had a large replica of a stamp affixed. Inside was a huge piece of paper, corners rounded, lined, and big holes punched so it looked like notebook paper. On it was handwritten the invitation to the dance. So cute!

A very creative young man led me on a Mission Impossible treasure hunt ending in a phone booth with the self-destructing tape and the recorded invitation to the dance. I put my reply on a small piece of paper ("yes"), rolled it into a film canister, baked a cake, cut out the center and put the film cannister into it, assembled and frosted the cake, and left it on his doorstep in a cake box.

Girl's Day Dance was a girl's choice dance and it was traditional that the day before the dance, the boy would take the girl who asked him to the dance out to lunch. Not just grabbing a hamburger at McDonalds, but something creative. Maybe this was a picnic spread in the school cafeteria , the hallway, or out on the lawn.

My sophomore year I asked an older guy who I didn't know to the dance. He was a friend of a friend and I thought he was cute. I didn't know much about him, but my friend said he was really nice and urged me to ask him. The day before the dance he kidnapped me for lunch and drove me up to the mountains in his Jeep. I had no idea where we were going. (You can keep reading. This isn't going to be a creepy story.) We parked, hiked, and arrived at a lovely site, high, high up, overlooking the valley, with a little stream going by, and a picnic laid out for us by his friends who'd come up earlier to lay out the tablecloth, the wine glasses and milk, and the bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. I was impressed!


The thought, planning, and effort that go into an endeavor pay off in the end. So it is with this ice cream. It was such a long process to make that I've put off blogging about it. I'm so lazy I didn't want to have to type in all the steps. But every time we ate it I would think, "This is sooooo gooood! I've got to let people know about this!" So here it is. Try not to be angry that I'm out of season here. You'll have a hard time finding fresh cherries. You can use canned, or just print it out and put it in your file to make next summer. You'll thank me then!

Almond, Cherry, Chocolate Ice Cream
adapted from The Perfect Scoop
by David Lebovitz

1 cup (250 ml) whole milk
3/4 cup (150 g) sugar
Pinch of salt
2 cups (500 ml) heavy cream
2 cups (270 g) whole almonds, toasted and coarsely chopped*
5 large egg yolks
1/4 tsp almond extract
1 cup (200 g) well-drained Sour Cherris in Syrup or Candied Cherries, coarsely chopped**
Fudge Ripple

Warm the milk, sugar, salt and 1 cup (250 ml) of the cream in a medium saucepan. Finely chop 1 cup (135 g) of the almonds and add them to the warm milk. Cover, remove from the heat, and let steep at room temperature for 1 hour.

Strain the almond-infused milk into a separate medium saucepan. Press with a spatula against the strainer to extract as much flavor from the almonds as possible. You can also pick up handfuls of the almonds and squeeze out all the liquid possible. Discard the almonds.

Rewarm the almond-infused milk Pour the remaining 1 cup (250 ml) cream into a large bowl and set a mesh strainer on top. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Slowly pour the warm mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constantly, then scrape the warmed egg yolks back into the saucepan. (A rubber glove under the egg yolk bowl will keep it from skittering across the counter as you whisk.)

Stir the mixture constanly over medium heat with a heatproof spatula, sraping the bottom as you stir, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. Pour the custard through the strainer and stir it into the cream. Stir in the almond extract and stir until cool over an ice bath.

Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's insturctions. During the last few minutes of churning, add the remaining 1 cup chopped almonds. When your remove the ice cream from the machine, fold in the chopped cherries.

*To toast almonds spread nuts in an even layer on an ungreased baking sheet. Place the sheet in a preheated 350 deg. F oven for 10 to 12 minutes, stirring once or twice while baking. Snap an almond in half: if they're done it should be lightly golden brown throughout. Let amonds cool completely befor using.

**Candied Cherries (makes 2 cups)

1 lb (450 g) cherries, fresh or frozen
1-1/2 cups (375 ml) water
1 cup (200 g) sugar
1 Tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 drop almond extract

Remove the stems and pit the cherries. Heat the cherries, water, sugar, and lemon juice in a large nonreactive saucepan or skillet until the liquid starts to boil.

Turn down the heat to a low boil and cook the cherries for 25 minutes, stirring frequently during the last 10 minutes of cooking to make sure they are cooking evenly and not sticking.

Once the syrup is reduced to the consistency of maple syrup, remove the pan from the heat, add the almond extract, and let the cherries cool in their syrup. They can be kept in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks.

To use, drain the cherries in a strainer for about 1 hour. Save the syrup to pour over pancakes - heavenly!


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The lovely and gracious Jaden of Steamy Kitchen awarded me the Thinking Blogger award. Thank you, Jaden!


I'd like to pass this award on to several other bloggers who inspire me, inform me, and make me think:

Kitchen Wench
My Kitchen In Half Cups
Food and Photo
Mulligan Stew Me
Technicolor Kitchen

E is for Extra Effort

In fourth grade I participated in my first science fair. I had no clue what I was doing. The instructions were to do a science experiment and then to demonstrate and explain the results to the teacher. I cast about in my mind for the Nobel prize winning science experiment and came up with....one from the science textbook.

I clipped a piece of paper over a geranium leaf to show that phototsynthesis couldn't take place when the leaf didn't receive sunlight. My plant cooperated beautifully, producing a limp, yellowed leaf for me to show off. I proudly carried my potted plant into the science fair and realized I'd come up seriously short on the effort meter. Other students (or their parents) had booths they'd constructed filled with colorful charts and graphs diagraming their experiments, the variables, and the outcomes. The most attention getting display was a papier mache volcano with a working pump that pumped out red, oozing "lava." Man, I was sunk.

The teachers / judges went around to each station and asked the student to describe their experiment. When they asked me I said something brilliant along the lines of, "You should know. It's in the book!" Hmmm. For some strange reason I didn't win any prizes at that science fair.

I have since learned that extra effort counts. Any fifteen year old can mow a lawn. It's the one who edges, rakes, sweeps up the debris, and puts away the tools who'll get a tip and get invited back again. The restaurant waiter who is attentive, refilling glasses, quickly bringing your order, remembering who ordered the lamb and who got the cashew chicken, and keeping a quiet eye on your table so that he's there if you need anything is the waiter who goes home with fat tips at night. The sullen server who slops food on the table and must be chased down at the end of the meal for the check is not.

Likewise, in baking, attention to detail and a little extra effort make all the difference. Finest ingredients, scrupulously following the recipe, and care taken in the finishing and presentation make the difference between a nice treat and drop-dead gorgeous, taste sensation.

When I first got my own copy of The Perfect Scoop one of the recipes that called to me was the Tin Roof Ice Cream. That's one of my favorite ice cream flavors. I was put off, though, by the steps involved. While many of the Perfect Scoop recipes are as easy as dropping ingredients into a blender, chilling, then freezing, this one had many componenets that had to be made prior to actual ice cream making. Such was my compusion to make ice cream that I plunged ahead, regardless of the time, cost, or difficulty. It ended up not being difficult, just a bit time-consuming, and totally worth it. Smooth creamy ice cream laced with ribbons of dark chocolate syrup and studded with dark chocolate-coated nuts. Wow! My family was all impressed and delighted with the tasty results.

We took these pictures on a very hot day so the ice cream was melting into a delicious puddle as we shot. We ate it anyway. Oh, how we suffer for the blog!

Tin Roof Sundae
adapted from The Perfect Scoop
by David Lebovitz

3/4 cup (180 ml) whole milk
3/4 cup (150 g) sugar
Pinch salt
1-1/2 cups (375) ml heavy cream
1/2 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
4 large egg yolks
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cup Chocolate-Covered Peanuts (recipe below)
Chilled Fudge Ripple (recipe below)

Warm the milk, sugar, salt, and 1/2 cup (125 ml) of the cream in a medium saucepan. With a sharp paring knife, scrape the small seeds from the vanilla bean and add them, along with the pod, to the hot milk mixture. Cover, remove from the heat, and lt steep at room temperature for 30 minutes.

Rewarm the vanilla-infusted mixture. Pour the remaining 1 cup (250 ml) cream into a large bowl and set a mesh strainer on top. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Set this bowl on top of a rubber glove to keep it from scooching along the counter. Slowly pour the warm mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constanly, then scrape the warmed egg yolks back into the saucepan.

Stir the mixture constantly over medium heat with a heatproof spatula, scraping the bottom as you stir, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. Pour the custard through the strainer and stir it into the cream to cool. Remove the vanilla bean, wipe it clean of any egg bits, and add it back to the custard. Stir in the vanilla and stir until cool over an ice bath. Chill thoroughly in the refrigerator.

Before freezing, remove the vanilla bean (it can be rinsed and reused). Freeze the ice cream in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions. While the ice cream is freezing, chop the chocolat-covered peanutes into bite-sized pieces.

Fold the peanut pieces into the frozen ice cream as you remove it from the machine, and layer it with Fudge Ripple. Start with a puddle of Fudge Ripple in the bottom of the storage container and then alternate layers of ice cream with layers of sauce.

Chocolate-Covered Peanuts

4 oz (115 g) semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1 cup (150 g) roasted, unsalted peanuts

Put the pices of chocolate in an absolutely dry heatproof bowl. Set the bowl over a saucepan of simmering water to melt th chocolate, stirring until smooth. In the meantime, stretch a piece of plastic wrap over a dinner plate.

Once the chocolate is melted, remove it from the heat and stir in the peanuts, coasting them with the chocolate. Spread the mixture on the plastic-lined plate and chill in the refrigerator.

Fudge Ripple (makes 1 cup)

1/2 cup (100 g) sugar
1/3 cup (80 ml) light corn syrup
1/2 cup (125 ml) water
6 Tbsp (50 g) unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Whisk together the sugar, corn syrup, water, and cocoa powder in a medium saucepan. Heat over medium heat, whisking constantly, until the mixture begins to bubble at the edges.

Continue to whisk until it just comes to a low boil. Cook for 1 minute, whisking frequently. Remove from the heat, stir in the vanilla, and let cool. Chill in the refrigerator before using.

Summer's Last Fling

Summer is so fleeting. I looked at the calendar and couldn't believe that it's already the last week of August. What happened? I haven't been to the beach, read a trashy novel, or gone on a roller coaster. No hiking (thank goodness), sailing, or biking. What have I been doing? Well, to be honest, I've been making ice cream.

You thought that because I wasn't posting it, I'd stopped. I'd gotten over my obsession with The Perfect Scoop. Not so. I was just keeping it under wraps, afraid that if I posted everything I'd made, the blog police would make me change my name from Cooke Baker Lynn to Ice Cream Freezer Lynn. And that's just not good. It makes me sound too bulky, for one thing.

But my summer fling with The Perfect Scoop has completely taken over my time. And my freezer. Every available container close to a 1 quart size has been pressed into service. I've got squares, rounds, smalls, talls, and leftovers. (I highly recommend saving the 32 oz plain yogurt containers. They're perfectly sized for a quart of ice cream.) And none of them are labeled. So when someone wants some of the lemon-ginger ice cream they have to hunt.

Dessert time around here sounds something like this:

"Isn't it the yellow tupperware with the green lid?" "It was, but we ate most of that so I moved the little bit leftover into a small treat-cup size. The yellow one now has the banana ice cream in it." "Well, what's in the blue yogurt one?" "What color is it?" "Um, creamy?" "Oh, that's the lavendar-honey." "What's in the red yogurt?" "That would be the peach. That sounds good. Get that one out."


You see, I'm seriously back-blogged, so I'm just going to do one more week of ice cream, then we'll be ready for fall. Almost. I still don't have a single ripe tomato on my four tomato plants.

When I let my husband pick which ice cream du jour I should make he picked the Malted Milk Ice Cream. He's always had a soft spot for Whopper's and I'd already made Whopper Ice cream for him, which he liked. This one, though, he loved. He thought it was the best ice cream he'd ever had. It is seriously good. Creamy, saturated with smooth, malt flavor, and speckled with malt ball crunch.

Malted Milk Ice Cream
adapted from The Perfect Scoop
by David Lebovitz

1 cup half-and-half
3/4 cup sugar
Pinch of salt
2 cups heavy cream
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
2/3 cup malt powder
6 large egg yolks
2 cups malted milk balls, coarsely chopped

Warm the half-and-half, sugar, and salt in a medium saucepan. In a large bowl, whisk together the heavy cream, vanilla, and malt powder and set a mesh strainer on top.

In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Slowly pour the warm mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constantly, then scrape the warmed egg yolks back into the saucepan.

Stir the mixture constantly over medium heat with a heatproof spatula, scraping the bottom as you stir, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. Pour the custard through the strainer and whisk it into the malted milk mixture. Stir until cool over an ice bath.

Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer' instructions. As you remove the ice cream from the machine, fold in the chopped malted milk balls.

PG-13 Rant

Warning: this post contains high levels of estrogen and may offend readers. Reader discretion is advised. Children under 13 must seek their parents' permission before reading. Male readers may want to skip straight to the recipe. In an effort to keep this site's PG-13 rating, the term "dancing" has been substituted for another popular activity for married couples.

I went to the doctor's office recently. I saw the same woman that I see every year for my annual grope and poke. We make polite chit-chat about my family while she makes sure I'm clean and cancer-free. She looks puzzled whenever I try humor to ease over the awkwardness of the situation. I think she has no sense of humor. Anyway, I had seen her just 4 months previously and was back to ask about a different, but related topic.

Having had a nurse dispense with the weight, temperature, and blood pressure (all fine, thank you for asking), she starts to ask me about my lifestyle. "Do you smoke?" No. "Do you take any prescription medications?" No. "Do you do any recreational drugs?" she asks, with her voice lilting up a bit, as if to suggest that I could trust her if I chose this moment to break down and confess my crack cocaine addiction. NO.

"Do you have a dancing partner?" Yes, I say, my voice rising a bit, as if to suggest that the chart surely contains the information that I've been married over 20 years and have 4 children. I am an active dancer.

"And is your dancicng partner....male?" Eybrows crinkling together, forehead furrowed, I reply in a testy voice, "That would be my husband."

I fumed through the rest of the visit, seething inside over the indignity of people who refuse to remember you, even though you see them repeatedly, and the embarrassment of such politically correct questions designed not to offend anyone. Except they do offend me.

I crossed the street from the doctor's office to the grocery store. Time was tight and I needed to get dinner fixin's. I headed straight for the meat counter, looking for boneless, skinless chicken thighs. I didn't have the time to do all the tedious prep work so I was prepared to pay a premium price for someone else doing that work. Aha, one last package. I grabbed it and then dropped it right back. Why did it go "squiiiish?" What does it mean "injected with up to 15% solution?" Solution of what? Botox, to make an aged chicken look plump and fresh? Or water so I can pay boneless, skinless chicken prices for water? Argggh!

I headed over to the produce section. A helpful young man was stocking the packaged, dried fruit section so I asked him where the California dried apricots were. "Oh, we don't carry those." I spotted them on the shelf and grabbed a pack. Then I asked a different produce guy where the unsalted pistachios were. "Oh, we don't carry those." (I'm sensing a trend here.) Seeing the growing thundercloud on my face he hastily amended with, "but if we do, they'd be in the baking aisle."

So I head over to the baking aisle. I see, of course, zero unsalted pistachios but I do note that they're clearing out the Nestle's peanut butter and milk chocolate chips. What a shame. Of course a bag had to go in my cart. Which, of course, was one of the mutant carts that pulls wildly in one direction. I was not in the mood to wrestle with it further. I bought my chips and apricots and left.

Storming into the kitchen I snarled at my husband, "I don't care how hot it is; I need to bake cookies." My husband is a wise man with a strong sense of self-preservation. "Cookies sound great, honey," said he.



I knew I needed chocolate cookies. The delicious ones I'd seen on Technicolor Kitchen were out of the question as someone else was on the computer. Grrrr. So I used my old, standard chocolate chip cookie recipe, dumped in 1/2 cup of cocoa and the newly purchased chips. While I mixed and baked I mentally wrote a letter to the doctor's office.

Dear ______-

Please attach the following information to my chart:

I am a happily married, heterosexual who does not smoke or do drugs. Should I ever decide to cheat on my husband, take up smoking, mainline heroin, or take dance lessons with a goat, I'll let you know. In the meantime, DON'T ASK! That way I can pretend that you actually know who I am.

Sincerely,

Do you think I should send it?



Chocolate Fix Cookies

3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup unsweetened baking cocoa
1 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 eggs
2 cups Peanut Butter and Milk Chocolate Chips
1 cup chopped pecans

1- Preheat oven to 375 deg. F.

2 - Sift into a small bowl the flour, baking soda, salt, and cocoa.

3- In a large mixing bowl combine the butter and sugars. Beat till creamy and fluffy. Add vanilla extract and eggs. Beat well. Gradually add flour mixture; mix well. Stir in the chips and nuts.

4- Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls onto ungreased baking sheets.

5- Bake for 8-9 minutes, just till the top is set. Don't overbake or you'll have pucks.

6- Let cookies rest on the sheet for about 2 minutes (they'll continue baking), then remove to a cooling rack to finish cooling.