"Overdone and Undercooked" Newspaper Columns©

They say that home is not where you live, but where they understand you. And everyone knows there is no place like home for the holidays.  Even if you are surrounded by relatives who say all the wrong things, it is home.

Stuffed stomachs and flushed cheeks stagger from the Thanksgiving dining room table and toward the couches and soft chairs of the living room.  Too many people in a small room sacked out on the sofa or burrowed close to  one another like biscuits in a tin.  Thankful for another year.

It is at this time of year we were taught to be thankful for what we have and to think of others less fortunate. But, how many of us have wondered what happens to those less fortunate during the rest of the year.

Something remarkable is happening–right here in Seattle–and it happens every week.  It starts on Tuesday morning at 9:30 a.m. at the Josephinum Hotel in downtown Seattle.  This beautiful building was built in 1906.  The ceilings in the lobby are stained glass.  The original lighting fixtures, huge orb shades, rise in the cathedral ceiling alongside the marble columns.  In the lobby, next to the piano, the room embraces a group of homeless people.  They all admit to being clean and sober and ready for a commitment.

They are about to begin a journey back.  Back before homelessness, hunger, isolation and hopelessness, took them far, far away from home.  They are about to take a tour of a facility called FareStart.

FareStart transforms the lives of homeless and disadvantaged men and women. They have a vision to transform our community so all people have a sense of belonging, enrichment and hope in their lives.

And it is working.  Combining the operations of the hotel restaurant, café and in-depth life skills instruction these people are given a chance to start over; to find a life.

The tour takes them inside the hotel’s restaurant.  The front wall displays pictures of recent FareStart graduates, holding their certificates and wearing ear-to-ear grins.

After the tour-if they accept-they are given shots by the health department, housing, and a 16-week commitment of hard work which will prepare them for future food-service jobs.

“The first two weeks are the hardest,” says Lillian Hochstein, FareStart’s development director. “By then the true commitment comes out. Twenty-five percent don’t make it to the third week.”

Those lucky enough to make it to the third week begin Life Skills.  Life Skills training takes place over three weeks with a licensed counselor. “Here everyone has a chance to deal with anger management, trust issues, being a capable person,” says Hochstein, a petite blond who rolls up her sleeves and tells it like it is. “They learn to butt up against it and deal with it.”

FareStart generates 60 percent of its annual operating budget through Head Start programs, daycare center meals, the restaurant, café, and a Guest Chef night.

The rest of the operating budget is raised by Hochstein-a part-time grant worker-and volunteers.  They rely on individuals, corporations, foundations and special events.

An extensive network of the area’s finest restaurants, hotels and institutions are eager to place program graduates.  That is why during weeks 13 through 15 students spend time in Life Management classes.  Here they are taught resume preparation, interviewing skills, relapse prevention and job-placement counseling.

Hochstein gets a bit misty eyed when asked if the environment might get a little disheartening.  “It is more heartening than not,” she grins. “That first student during his first week: no eye contact, head down, and to see him again at the end of the 16th week: upbeat, employable, chatting.  To see the change is amazing.  Homeless people feel very isolated and FareStart gives them the feeling that they are needed, especially when they see the amount of volunteers who care about them.”

Head Chef Cameron Orel of Yarrow Bay Beach Café volunteered her skills at FareStart when she was a Guest Chef.  Guest Chef night is every Thursday.  A different Guest Chef runs the kitchen producing fabulous meals and also giving the students the ability to work with a variety of chefs.

Orel remembers being very nervous.

Not because the students were homeless; her father instilled charity into her. When she was a little girl, her father worked near the Kingdome.  She remembers his generosity to people on the street.  “Never look down upon someone who has fallen,” he would tell her.

She was nervous about the students getting the food out in time. She was “floored.” Fifteen students with minimal experience and 15 personalities shined.

She remembers one student in particular who did exceptionally well. She hired him after his graduation. She recalls, because it was such a gratifying personal experience.

She showed him how to present the plate. He asked if she would show him again. Then he remarked to her that the second time it was different. Orel replied that each plate you can make different designs.  He was so excited to have the chance to be creative he was almost overwhelmed.

Over 2,000 meals a day are prepared and served. FareStart has doubled the students in the last three years and has added a double shift.

A home and understanding make each day at FareStart a holiday.

Honor your friends and relatives this year by giving a gift that will transform a life. FareStart will host a special giving tree in the restaurant.  Purchase a FareStart ornament to place on the tree.  The money raised from the ornament will go directly to the student services fund, which is used to purchase items for the students such as work shoes, eyeglasses, coats and other essential items.

You can also pick up a wish list for a student or a graduate.  Gifts will be collected until Dec. 20.  For information call FareStart at (206) 443-1233, ext. 17

 

Fall brings a season of delicious harvests.  But who cares?  It is October!  I can feast on apples and pears any ol’day. But at the end of this month it is Snickers and Mars bars.  Bite size, king size, oh-h-h-h for a chocolateholic is there any better holiday than Halloween?

What other holiday do you send your child out to roam the streets in the dark to come home and deposit $100 worth of candy on the kitchen table.  There gleaming under the kitchen light: Butterfingers, M&M’s, Baby Ruths, Dots and Hershey bars.

You beg and cajole with your children to pleaaassse share that tiny Tootsie Roll, only to have their grubby (oh, I meant chubby) little hands grab it and yell, “NO!”

Halloween is such a wonderful time for children, full of spooky stories, costume parties, games and good things to eat.

With all that trick or treating children will be thirsty.  Have big pitchers of cold apple cider or have a large bowl of punch or grape juice, and tell the children they have to stir it well to make their spells jell!

Let’s face it.  Halloween is sugar, sugar, sugar!  Let’s get the kids (and Mom) started now!

Trick or Treat!

P.S.  It is October–the beginning of the frightful threes:  Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas.  Soon we will be plunged into heavy holiday eating.  But stop right there, because the fact is, like a lot of us, I need to regain my composure and admit there are only two months until Christmas!  We have got to paint the living room, sew drapes, hook a carpet, make matching outfits and bake! Help!  Share your favorite quick and easy recipe.  Keep those e-mails coming!

MONSTER MUNCH

1 cup chocolate pieces

1 cup shredded coconut

1/2 cup peanuts

1 cup corn Chex cereal

Melt chocolate pieces until all are smooth.  Mix remaining ingredients with the chocolate.  Shape into round balls, place on wax paper. Chill.

KEEN HALLOWEEN ICE CREAM

1 gallon of any flavor ice cream.  Width-wise slice one inch thick and place each slice on top of a graham cracker.  You have an ice cream sandwich!  Freeze on wax paper until serving time.

TRICK OR TREAT BASKETS

Cut firm oranges in half and scoop out the pulp.  Be careful not to break the skins.  Save the pulp and press through a strainer and use for juice at breakfast.  Fill the empty orange halves with canned or fresh fruit cocktail and before serving, top with scoops of vanilla and orange sherbet ice cream.

JACK O’LANTERN CAKE

Mix together: 1/2 cup sugar, 1/2 cup butter, 1 tsp. ginger (powdered) 1 tsp. cinnamon, 1/2 tsp. salt.  Set aside.  In a large bowl beat one egg until fluffy.  Add 3/4 cup milk and 3/4 cup dark molasses.  Sift 1 tsp. baking soda with 2 cups flour and add to above mixture.  Bake at 325 degree in ungreased round cake pan for about about 35 minutes.  Cool before icing.

ICING:  1 cup confectioner’s sugar, 1 Tbsp. butter, 2 Tbsp. milk, orange food coloring.  Mix the sugar and butter in a bowl with a fork.  Add the milk slowly.  Stir until creamy.  Add drops of food coloring, stir until you get a pumpkin color.  Spread icing on the cake

PUMPKIN FACE:  You will need gum drops, candy corn and red licorice.  Arrange some gumdrops in a triangle shape to make the eyes. Arrange the candy corn in a triangle shape to make the nose.  Use the licorice whole as as strip or in pieces to outline the shape of the pumpkin’s mouth. Presto! You have a Jack O’Lantern cake!

GLOWING JACK O’LANTERN COOKIES:  Carve each pumpkin, then put in the “glow”

1/2 cup shortening

6 Tbsp. butter

3/4 cup sugar

Beat shortening and butter with an electric mixer in a large mixing bowl. About 30 seconds.  Add sugar and beat until mixture is fluffy.

1  egg

1 tsp. vanilla

1 Tbsp. milk

Add egg, vanilla and milk to shortening mixture.  Beat well.

2 cups flour

1/4 tsp. salt

1  1/2 Tbsp. baking powder

In a separate mixing bowl coming flour, salt, and baking powder.  Gradually add flour mixture to shortening mixture, beating well.  Cover and chill three hours.

Roll out half of the dough on a floured surface.  Cut into 4 to 5 inch circles.  With a sharp knife, cut pumpkin eyes, nose, and mouth out of each circle.  Fill holes with crushed hard orange sour candy.  Attach cut out stems.

Place cookies 2 inches apart in a foil covered cookie sheet.  Bake at 375 for 10 minutes until cookies are light brown.  Cool.  Makes great pumpkin-head cookies that you can see through.

 

 

 

“When I lived in Italy, it was like I was on the Planet Crypton,” Nick Stellino confides. “When I arrived in America (planet earth) I felt as if I could become Superman”.

Sicilian-born, Chef Nick Stellino, decided to follow his heart.  His hard work and long efforts have made him the star of PBS’ most popular cooking show, “Cucina Amore”.

A partnership with West 175 and KCTS/Channel 9, has created a nationally syndicated cooking show and three cookbooks: Cucina Amore, Nick Stellino’s Glorious Italian Cooking and his newest, Nick Stellino’s Mediterranean Flavors, published by G.P. Putnam’s Sons.

His graciousness showed under pressure at Woodinville’s Columbia Winery recent “Taste of Red” event.

Settling down on a couch in an upstairs room of the winery, he began to say how surprised he was by the power of television and how he marveled that people now stand up and listen to what he has to say.

“When I was a dishwasher no one said, “oh your eyes are so blue”, he laughed.  Dressed in a black turtle neck sweater, black pants and his black hair swept back in his now famous ponytail; Stellino seemed more philosopher than chef, his words spoken with his hands and his heart.

“Being a chef is a dream come true for me.  It has enabled me to incorporate all the things that are important to me into my daily life.”

Commutes from L.A.

Stellino’s daily life is spent living in Los Angeles with his wife Nanci. He spreads genuine warmth when he talks of her, and the passion of his childhood in Italy and the family stories which have become his trademark.

Each fall he arrives in Seattle to begin taping “Cucina Amore”. Twenty-six shows are taped a year at KTCS, sometimes up to three a day.  He is such a natural that there is no need for a rehearsal.  He writes his cookbooks at his favorite coffee shop in Los Angeles, or in his office at home.

Arriving in the United States as a teen-age exchange student, Stellino stayed and established a career as a stockbroker.  But, in 1991, after returning home to his uncle’s funeral in Sicily, he remembered his words, “that you should never die without having followed your dreams”.

He came home, quit, and landed a job as a dishwasher-but, the informal lessons he had learned from his family of passionate cooks helped him to rise from dishwasher to prep cook, to salad chef, to saucier-all the way to executive chef.

A local talent scout selected Stellino as the TV spokesperson for Ragu tomato sauces.  This national exposure led to his television cooking series.

As he enters the room to his attentive audience, he places a red-and-white checked kitchen towel around his waist.  He immediately charms them as he reiterates a question I had asked earlier, “What does it feel to be a success?”

Perceptions of success

He explains to the audience that success is a perception.  “It is not status quo-only perfect moments-are success.  People on TV seem so good, so special, but believe me I have burned a lot of recipes.  I can cuss very good in Italian”, he said.

His third book, “Nick Stellino’s Mediterranean Flavors,” is an all new collection of traditional Mediterranean cuisine recreated to make them simple enough for a novice or busy cooks.

I tried this recipe and found it very easy.  The gravy looked beautiful and the flavor was company quality.  After this success I tried many more recipes in this book.  I found them all to be peppered with Stellino’s enthusiasm and emotional connection making each dish memorable.

CHICKEN WITH GARLIC SAUCE

2 tablespoons flour

1-1/2 teaspoons sage

1-1/2 teaspoons rosemary

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

4 boneless chicken breasts, with skin on

3 tablespoons olive oil

20 garlic cloves!, cut in half length-wise

1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1/2 white onion, chopped

1/4 cup white wine

1-1/4 cup chicken stock

1 tablespoon soft butter mixed with 1 tablespoon flour

3 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Combine the flour, sage, rosemary, salt and pepper on a plate.  Dredge the chicken breasts in the flour mixture, shaking off the excess flour.  Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a large sauce pan set on medium high heat until sizzling, about 2 minutes.

Add the chicken breasts to the pan, skin-side down, and cook for 4 minutes on each side.  Transfer to a baking dish, skin-side up, and cook for 10-15 minutes in the preheated oven.

While the chicken is baking, add the remaining olive oil to the saute pan used for browning the chicken and heat over medium-high heat until sizzling, about 1 minute.  Add the garlic, red pepper flakes and onion and cook until the onion softens and the garlic begins to brown, about 3 minutes.

Stir the wine into the pan, scraping up any brown bits from the bottom. Boil the wine until reduced by half, about 2-3 minutes.  Add the chicken stock and boil until reduced by half, about 7-8 minutes.  Remove the pan from the heat and whisk in the butter-flour mixture, stirring until it has melted completely.  Return the pan to the heat and boil for a minute, until the sauce thickens.  Keep warm until ready to serve.

To serve, place the chicken breasts on serving plates, top with the sauce and a sprinkle of the chopped parsley.  Enjoy with a class of Cabernet Franc.

 

 

 

 

At exactly 3:05 p.m. on a recent afternoon, for no good reason, I found a pen beside the phone.

“What is this!” I shouted.  Looking at it in disbelief, I dropped everything and ran into the living room to express my excitement to the family.  Nothing much happened, a shrugged shoulder, a yawn, “When’s dinner?” was heard.  They just didn’t get it.

The plain and simple truth is that I have spent years taking phone messages and knocks at the front door for payment to the paper boy, Girl Scout cookies, the school drive wrapping paper fund, with only the writing utensils found in the house: crayons, pencils with no lead, yellow highlighters, chalk, eyebrow pencils, scented felt pens with collapsed tips, but never a pen.

Come to think of it, I can’t remember when I ever had a pen when I needed it…

“Your order please.”

“Yes. We will have a Happy Hamburger and…What? What do you mean it has to have ketchup and pickles only,” I lamented to my preschooler in the back seat of our mini-van.  “Last time you liked cheese.”

“I hate cheese,” she bellowed.  “Ketchup and pickles only!  Ketchup and pickles only!” chanted her three other friends in the car.  Now thumping their feet to the beat.

“Your order pleassse.”

“OK. OK. OK. We will have…”

“That will be $13.76. Please pay at the next window.”

I never have cash.  Not even pennies in my pocket.  Two reasons. Number one: If the kids I haul around hear that jingle they beg unmercifully.  If they see change in the ashtray they become animals and if they get their hands on it prying them away from gum, toy, and pop machines becomes well, you don’t want to know.  Number two: I write a check for everything and of course you need a pen.  I’m just thankful I have carbon checks.

We were inching our way closer to the window as I desperately searched for a pen in the car.  The car my husband specifically said, when it was new, we would never eat in.  I buried my hand in between the seats coming up with juice straws, sunflower seed shells, an overdue library book, but…no pen.

Anticipating the rolled eyes I would get from the cashier at the window when I asked for a pen, I braked and ordered everyone to put their heads down and look.

As I glanced under the car seat at the spilled coffee stains and candy wrappers, I thought of my husband who had recently rolled the van (I can’t eat in it, but he can dent it!)  He said that the accident was not bad, the really scary part was all the barreling lunchboxes and the stretched out arms and legs of Barbie dolls flying at him like scud missiles.

In the back seat squeezed in between the children was the dry-cleaning bag, the used clothes for the consignment shop (that had sat in the car so long it had its own permanent seat), the milk bottles, the post office parcel, and everything else for our day in the car errands.  Each stop would need a pen.

After taking the silent abuse from the cashier, I assertively explained to her my plight.  “Could I be as bold as to ask you for your pen?”  She just looked deep into my eyes and let me know that there was a speed car racer pen in the Happybox. “You flip the headlights back and write,” she growled, then threw back her head and laughed.  Relieved, I went to our next stop only to have the pen run out of ink.

I had had it with my family.  I left the living room to go look at the pen beside the phone.  Naturally, it was gone.  I didn’t even flinch.

Now write this information down (with whatever you’ve got) because here are a few excellent food tips to better your day:

*Cornstarch is a tried-and-true “secret ingredient” that’s right in your cupboard.  It makes glossy gravies, satiny sauces and delicately firm cream-pie fillings and puddings. This easy-to-use thickening agent is made from corn, and is an economical substitute for flour.

*Use celery tops as a basting brush.  Eliminates brush washing.  Nature’s baster.

*Serve tea with an orange wedge instead of lemon.  Orange adds a tangy natural sweetness.

*In its original container, butter can be kept in the freezer.

*Instead of adding milk when mashing potatoes, add the hot cooking liquid the potatoes were cooked in and save calories.

*For uniformly sliced mushrooms use an egg slicer instead of a knive.

*For soft biscuits, bake close.  Firm biscuits, bake inches apart

(Shanna enjoys sharing her stories and recipe ideas with readers. Her column appears the first and third weeks of each month.)

 

Experts agree that the correct way to get into the holiday spirit is to relax and not allow yourself to become overwhelmed.

For example, the other day someone told me that it was the end of June.

“WHAT?!”

Helpful strangers standing yards away, shouted.  “Three days until Fourth of July!”

“How could it be?” I queried the clerk as I scratched out “May” on my check for groceries.  Then my faithful friend, Margo arrived on the scene and without a second’s hesitation reminded me I am to bring the main course for the annual Fourth of July picnic.  What was I bringing?

By now I am considering making a break from the grocery line but I had other items on my busy agenda, with number one being remembering how to breathe.

I remembered to rely on the techniques for living a well-balance life that I had just read as I waited in line to check out my groceries.

So here was the procedure:

Visualize what you want to accomplish (I cannot believe I signed up for MAIN COURSE!)

Try to see as an opportunity for growth and learning (The worst part is you have not a clue what to make and you are at the end of your monthly budget.)

Do things that bring joy and fulfillment into your life (And don’t think for a moment that you are going to get out of it, because you aren’t.)

I came out of my unconscious state mumbling, “Hot Dogs.”

“HOT DOGS!” Margo yelled over her shoulder.

I look down the crowded aisle of shoppers and they look at me with the bright polite smiles of people who do not have a clue what had just been said.

“Whoa! Now, Margo lets not be hostile.  I mean I’m not going to serve them with Cheez Whiz,” I explained.

‘To the best of my recollection, Cheez Whiz on a hot dog is mighty good,” said the customer second to the left in line.

I smile weakly.

Not feeling exceptionally energetic after purchasing $107.82 worth of groceries I knew as a food columnist I had to give that weenie a gourmet twist.

“Did I say Hot Dogs?  No, no, no I meant Frankfurters,” I said.  I felt a quiet giddiness and relief until I realized–condiments.

I pondered on this on the drive home.  As I breathe deeply (so as not to become overwhelmed) I thought there has to be more than one way to butter a hot dog bun.  Never doubt it, it only takes a rise in blood pressure to stagger the imagination to make a pretty dull weenie into…FOURTH OF JULY FRANKFURTERS

Score frankfurters about 1/4 inch deep.  Brush with a sweet-sour BBQ, or zesty tomato sauce.  Grill 6 inches from heat, turning and brushing once or twice with more sauce.  Grill for 10 minutes or until hot dogs are puffed and richly glazed.  Now take your pick of homemade condiments:

-Top grilled hot dogs with mashed avocado, sliced ripe olives and crushed cornchips.

-Line toasted hot dog buns with sautéed red and green peppers seasoned with chili sauce.

-Serve with grilled (canned or fresh) pineapple spears, chopped macadamia nuts and diced green peppers.

-Insert tiny pieces of white American Cheese into scored hot dogs before grilling; spread mustard on hot dogs buns  and arrange slices of red and green pickled cherry peppers around hot dog.

-Spread toasted hot dog buns with canned deviled ham, place grilled hot dogs over and top with chopped Bermuda onion or Walla Walla sweets.

-Wrap lean bacon around hot dogs before grilling and top with hot dog relish in toasted buns.

-Fill toasted hot dog buns with rice salad and place grilled hot dog over top with dairy sour cream seasoned with mustard.

-Top grilled hot dogs in toasted buns with orange sections and sweet onion slices.

#

 

 

 

 

It was Kathie Lee-or maybe it was Sara Lee-who once said, “Taking the highway to thindom has invariable been a bumpy road with a stop sign at the turn to dessert.”

Ever since I can remember any delectable morsel, that had the tag dessert, immediately registered: guilt and shame…following each bite.  Feeling deprived if not eaten, I had a continuous daydream, well more like a haunting novel, that some day, there would be a knock on my door…

My hero…with his palm gripping my doorknob, his heart throbbing in his ear, his free hand reaching for the sword that hung at his hip and his billowy white long-sleeved shirt, stuck to his perspiring chest, would kick the door in with his foot, sword thrust forward, and instead of grabbing me this modern day pirate sword turned into a plate of cookies!

Naturally, they would be low in salt, cholesterol and fat, high in fiber, several important minerals thrown in, and best of all–wouldn’t taste like a cereal box.  Guilt-free flavors of chocolate chip, brownie, macaroon and…

Pinch me.  Am I awake?  This is not fiction this is a fact!  Their is a super hero, Dr. Cookie-a.k.a., Dr. Marvin Wayne and Dr. Stephen Yarnall.

These medical professionals who believe wholeheartedly in a healthful lifestyle which includes desserts have written The New Dr. Cookie Cookbook.

“I believe that we can save more people with cookies and humor that we will with cardiology,” Yarnall stated when I talked with him recently at his cardiology clinic.

Dr. Yarnall”, a gregarious man with an impish grin, was sitting among walls lined with shelves of books and bright green magazine holders brimming with papers.

“What is this?” I asked, spreading my arms out to make a wide circle. Pointing to the papers, he looked at me, and explained that it was his library of research for Dr. Cookie and his other passions, writing and travel.

“Robin Leach, on his new TV food cable network, (via telephone) first question was about our Hippie Cookies,” Dr. Yarnall remembered, as he reached for a cloth covered bowl and handed me a chocolate chip cookie. (It was very chewy and very chocolate!)

Inching closer, I whispered, “Robin Leach? What other celebrities do you know?”

“Well,” Dr. Yarnall said proudly, “Julia Child and I were on CNN, and she complimented me for being a doctor who felt butter and eggs were not to  be thrown out of our lives.”

This…a cardiologist-a man who knows about clogging arteries-promoting cookies.  Since the only conversations I have had with doctors is flat on my back wearing a hospital gown, I was feeling a bit emancipated, and vertical. I pluckily asked, “Doctor!  You are going to offer me inner peace, by saying, it is OK to eat dessert?”

“What the consumer need think about butter, cheese, and eggs,” Dr. Yarnall explained, in his opinion, “is not to eliminate.  But the key to good nutrition, which is directly linked to good health, is moderation.  We believe in enjoying life to the fullest.  And for us, that means eating desserts.  Eat your basic food groups, exercise faithfully, and enjoy dessert.”

“Desserts are sweet and filling.  They satisfy your appetite as no raw veggie can.  They are warm and comforting.  They are fun and celebratory.  Each recipe is carefully, lovingly, created for enjoyment, without the explosion of fats and calories,” he assured me.

Thumbing through his book, I asked what was his favorite recipe.  He said it was “Dr. Cookie’s World Famous Cheesecake.”  The recipe: One slice of your absolute favorite cheesecake.  One very special friend.  Two forks. Combine the ingredients. Savor every bite.  Talk about how wonderful it is to enjoy great food with even greater friends. Smile a lot.  And don’t feel guilty.

I liked Dr. Yarnall.

He is also known for “Doc Talk,” a monthly question and answer column he writes for Hope Health Letter.  He and his wife, Lynn (a 100-mile ultra marathon runner)enjoy giving lectures on Royal Cruise Line tours in his philosophy of dessert-ing your way to health.  They have fun by using magic tricks and optimism; they naturally share.

I hate to tell myself this, but there is no more excuse for daydreaming.  This book supports those of us that have had an unhealthy fear of eating desserts and can actually say, “It is the doctors orders.”

DR. COOKIE’S DIVINE ALMOND MACAROONS

1 large egg white (at room temperature)

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 tablespoons sliced almonds

1/2 cup old-fashioned rolled oats

Preheat oven to 350F. Coat baking sheet with non-stick cooking spray.

Beat egg white with an electric mixer set at high until foamy. Add the cream of tartar and continue beating. Gradually add the sugar and beat until stiff peaks form.  Add the almond and vanilla extracts and beat at medium speed just until blended.  Fold the almonds and oats into the meringue.

Drop the batter by rounded teaspoonful’s onto the baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes or until the cookies are lightly browned

 

 

 

 

 

I made a mental note to myself, that I would not let another year go by, without apologizing.  You see it started way back at the beginning of the very first school year; when I received your first parent handout…on the last day of school.

When I originally suggested, that as parents we would appreciate some sort of weekly correspondence, to the other moms, they all turned and looked at me like they had never heard a simple suggestion before.  As years went by I grew suspicious when I found out there was a… weekly handout.

But I considered that small potatoes when my children came home in their pre-school years and could finally tell that a nickel was not more money, just because it was bigger, than a dime.

I was pleased to see the few notes that did come my way.  If you’re keeping track I have given notice as a volunteer.  How was I do know that the entire homeroom phone tree collapsed because I did not get my weekly notice?  The request seemed reasonable.  Call parents in case of an emergency.  Unfortunately, they sent my list of parent’s names, home with the weekly notice.  As for poor, Barb Shertzer, homeroom parent, I apologize.

It never occurred to me that you may not realize the true reason why I am writing you today.  It is–well–it’s embarrassing.  I mean I wouldn’t bring it up, but yes–that was–my signature on all those excuses and notices that did make it home.  You–did get them, right?

I know what you’re thinking how could anyone have such bad handwriting.  Well, let me tell you it wasn’t easy.  I was never in a relaxed upright position, with glasses on, cup of coffee next to me, sitting in my easy chair.  Oh…no.

I don’t think that there is anything that can make my moment like hearing a hysterical 11-year-old brooding over the urgency of a school note that must be signed NOW!  There was no doubt in my mind that she was talking directly to me even though I could not see her; as I had an armful of laundry, newspaper in my teeth, just hit my crazy bone while going down the stairs.  I had to sign my John Henry with my toes.

Or the time I was on my hands and knees, hoisting the mattress on my back trying to flip it over, when junior who I had just seen kiss the dog on the lips, kisses me goodbye.  Leaving for school, tears welling in his eyes, he explains the crumpled paper in his hand, is the note to allow him on today’s field trip.  I used my teeth to glide the pencil across on that note.

Let’s see there was the time in the car I had to use the steering wheel to write my name; while being kicked from the back seat from the neighbor’s kid…What the heck.  This is like yesterday’s leftovers.  Old news.  I promise that next year will be different.  There I feel better.

Sincerely,

A Parent

P.S.  I have never found it a sound practice to compare myself to other people, (up until a few days ago) so I would like to share with you this great recipe.  I know you might get a lit–tle bored this summer without your students and cooking is a practical hobby.  “Aw, c’mon forgive me please…”

TROUT FOR TEACHER

4 Large Trout

1 Tablespoon olive oil

Sauce: 2 Tablespoons Dijon Mustard, 2 Teaspoons wine vinegar, 2 egg yolks, salt and pepper, 6 Tablespoons unsalted softened butter, 2 Tablespoons chopped fresh chives, ½ cucumber sliced thin.

Wash and clean the trout.  Cut off the heads and dry the fish.  Wrap each trout in a piece of oiled aluminum foil and put them in a baking dish.  Bake in the center of a preheated oven at 425 degrees for 15-18 minutes.

Remove the dish from the oven and open the foil packages to allow the trout to cook slightly.  Slice each fish among the underside and with appointed knife carefully loosen the backbone. Ease the backbone out gently so that most of the small bones come away with it.  Set the trout aside to cool.

To make the sauce:  Beat the mustard, egg yolks, and vinegar together until well blended; season to taste with salt and pepper.  Gradually add butter to egg mixture, beating all the time, until the sauce has the consistency of thick cream.  Stir in the finely chopped herbs.

Before serving, peel the skin from the cold trout.  Cut each into 2 fillets.  Arrange on a serving dish.  Pour the sauce over the fillets.   Lay thin slices of cucumber on top of trout.

I stopped on the top step of the Marriott Hotel entryway and sucked in as much fresh San Francisco air as I could.  In my hand I held a check made out to me, Shanna, for $1 million.

Winning the Pillsbury million dollar bake-off was as nerve-racking as a teenager out past curfew, as painful as a root canal, and as difficult as preparing your taxes.

I ought to know, I can now afford to chuckle, but up until this minute, I vowed never to be so humiliated again.

You might think a cooking aficionado, such as myself, would be thrilled and honored to participate in such a wonderful time-honored event. But cooking is not without its dark side.

This is what happened to me.  This is my story.

Last December, 100 Bake-Off entrants were notified that their recipes had been selected for the contest finals, which were held last month.  For me, this meant an expense-paid trip to the competition finals in San Francisco, the opportunity to win $1 million and most importantly national recognition.

If only my Aunt Maddie had lived to see this-she had won every blue ribbon at every state fair for the last 60 years of her life for her famous apple pie.  If she had found out I put her recipe in the Pillsbury Million Dollar Contest she would have throttled me.  She was a mean old bat.

Only on her death bed, when all the relatives were lined up around the bed, did Aunt Maddie point her crippled, arthritic, 90-year-old finger at me.

At a whisper Aunt Maddie said, ‘Tell the family the jokes on them (sickly cough.) The secret in my famous apple pie, (a very long silent pause) I never used apples, (weak laugh). It was pears!” I tore out of that room and immediately sent the recipe in.

Me and a zillion others were flown straight to an oven, where the immense pressure began.  Immediately, when I saw the new crust-free, stainless oven, I became confused and disoriented.  There was no messy kitchen attached to it.  There were no toddlers hanging on my ankles, nor teenagers yelling that they refused to eat that slop another night.

I announced to the group that I could not cook under these sterile circumstances and I threw down my apron ready to walk home a beaten women.

If it wasn’t for Pills, the Pillsbury Doughboy, I–I don’t even want to think about it.   He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes.  Still, even as a crusty old man, he was a roll model for millions.  He persuaded me to stay.  I rolled up my sleeves and began to dirty up that oven.  I threw flour in all directions. I greased the burners and started a smoke fire.  Finally, I was comfortable enough to cook.

Panic ensued anyway.  Even a cool-headed cook such as myself began to succumb to a culinary meltdown.  Unfortunately, I set my finished creation, Aunt Maddie’s Apple Pie, onto the chair to cool, then absent-mindedly sat on it after hearing this doozy from a co-contestant:

My personal new best friend, Veteran Pillsbury spokesman.  The Pillsbury Doughboy, had died of a severe yeast infection and complications from repeated poking to the belly.  He was only 71.

My co-contestant explained to me (she is from Jersey) “Hey, get over it! You’re not his only friend, ya know. I hear Mrs. Butterworth, The California Raisins, Hungry Jack, Betty Crocker, The Hostess Twinkies, Captain Crunch, and many others gonna be thar to help deliver the eulogy.”

Lucky for me, and so typical of Pills good nature, one of the rules he created was to allow for making the recipe three times. I figured, good enough.  That is when I baked a new pie for the judges…it was the winner.

But naturally I knew this would happen because a dessert always wins. One top winner will be chosen in each of the four recipe categories: Yada, yada, yada. BUT first place is always the fourth category: desserts and treats.

What judge is going to remember that simple shrimp taco when dessert is coming around the corner?  I know I’m not alone here because what it boils down to is what does everyone remember about a meal–DESSERT!  What tastes best in a meal–DESSERT.  Why do you eat a meal–DESSERT.

I returned home to an ungrateful family. “Shanna, don’t you think you’re crying over split milk,” my husband said. “I can handle it!” I would holler. “Without Pills do you think I would have won? Huh? Huh?

I’m feeling stressed again.  Having money is nothing but work.  This is my last column. OVERDONE and UNDERCOOKED is POOPED and EXHAUSTED.

Besides, I don’t need the money.

 

 

Something strange happens to me when I spend a day without my list.

Whassamatter?  You think I mean a grocery list?  Oh, no, I’m talking about THE list.  You know, the one and only, ‘What-You -Have-To-Do-Today,” list.

Let me run you through a short lesson on list assembly, OK, let’s take today for instance.  Today is Wednesday, so Wednesday would be written in large, bold, block print (all capitals) at the top of the paper.

Then below that, write “1.” followed by the most important thing you need to do that day.  Continue adding items, with each being a little less important than the previous one.

Well there you go. OK. So the list is very important because without it I’m lost all day.  I have no direction. My friend, Margo, finds it ridiculous that I use a list.

“For crying out loud, that’s why you have a brain,’ she’ll holler.  “Just remember what you got to do.”

This from a friend who begs me to help her find her car keys… over the phone.

What can I tell you? Lists to me are like pet peeves to others.

You know how they collect them and then share them with you, over and over.

My friend, Margo, I’m sure has broken the world’s record for the longest sustained continuous sentence of pet peeve gripes.

Here let me go get my list and read it off to you.  Margo’s biggest pet peeves:

Hot jean zippers grabbed right out of the dryer, lipstick on your teeth, the grocery card with wobbly wheels…I mean the list just goes on and on.

Ah, but I digress.

I am absolutely awestruck by this sheer power of those folks who never write a list.  Margo, can call it a hokey ritual, but without my list I could not remind her to try this recipe.  It is as yummy as a box of chocolates, but it is also a low-fat treat.  Enjoy.

PEPPERMINT CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM CAKE ROLLS

Be prepared to fix this healthy recipe with a light cake mix,  low-fat ice cream and a fat-free topping. This recipe makes 3 cake rolls, about 5 servings each. 

Confectioner’s sugar

1 package light devil’s food cake mix.

1 – 1/3 cups water

3 eggs

1/2 gallon low-fat vanilla ice cream, softened

1/3 cup crushed peppermint candy

Light (fat-free) hot fudge topping

 

Spray 11 x 17  1-1/2 inch glass baking dish with nonstick cooking spray. Line bottom with waxed paper and spray again.

Generously sprinkle three clean kitchen towels with confectioner’s sugar. Set aside.

Prepare cake mix batter according to package directions using the water and eggs.

Spread 1/3 of the batter (about 1-3/4 cups) in the prepared dish. Microwave at medium (50 percent) for nine minutes, rotating dish a half turn after our minutes.  Microwave at High (100 percent) for 1-1/2 minutes.

Let stand five minutes.  Loosen edges and invert onto towel that is laid out flat.  Carefully remove waxed paper. Generously sprinkle cake with confectioner’s sugar.  Starting with shorter end of cake, roll up into the kitchen towel.  Set aside.  Let cool completely.

For each cake roll, carefully unroll cooled cake.  Quickly spread it with 1/3 of the ice cream. (Soften ice cream on low in the microwave for one minute)

Sprinkle with 1/3 of the crushed candy.  Roll up and wrap securely in foil. Freeze until firm.

Serve a slice on a beautiful plate and top it with hot fudge sauce!

My curiosity, such as it is, was piqued the other day as I glanced at a flyer in the Sunday paper.  Our own local Darigold was on a quest for a new ice cream flavor.  If you want to see a flagrant and spectacular violation of the known laws of physics, watch how fast a half-gallon of ice cream can disappear when I am near.

So being the ice cream hound that I am, I immediately sat down and sent them 23 flavors.  I thought I had been clever with fun names and whimsical ingredients:  Maui Waui, Shanna Banana, Seattle Grunge, and was counting the days until September 20 when the finalist would be notified.  But as the count-down continued, the complacency gave way to the grim, clear-eyed reality that I lost.

Whipped into an emotional frenzy, I had almost succeeded in driving the thought of doing two of my favorite things–eating and eating ice cream good-bye, when I received this letter:

“Dear Darigold Concoction Contest Entrant: Congratulations!  While your ‘flavor’ was not one of the winning entries your letter convinced us that you deserve a seat on Darigold’s Feature Flavors Selection Panel as a VIP guest taster.  You will be sampling 48 different flavors of ice cream to help us select the flavors that will be included in next year’s Darigold Feature Flavors program.”

I naturally was delighted, yet became delirious when Jan Roberts, consumer scientist for Darigold, informed me there were over 10,000 entries!

“They had all been very clever,” she explained.  “Some went as far as sending ingredients with their recipe.  Out of all the entries there seem to be a trend towards coconut, pretzel, lemon, and mint flavors.”  And she continued chuckling as it was quite a challenge to narrow 10,000 entries down to four flavors; one for each category of fruit, nut, chocolate and candy.

How long did it take to compose one of the four winning flavors?  Four weeks.  The flavor was sent to the manufacturer who took about a week with special instructions from Darigold.  A quart would then return to the consumer science lab where the staff would taste and approve the flavor. When approved, the design for the box would start and ample ice cream would be made for the VIP taste testers who would choose the winners.

First we started with fruit and used the two-spoon method.  I was ready for the big one spoon method but rules are rules.  We had 20 minutes to take ice cream from a big metal spoon and put a scoop of ice cream on a little pink plastic spoon.  Savor the flavor (as many times as we wanted) then rate it on a scale of 1-5 for the overall reaction to the flavor, name and carton design.

I will not here or anywhere describe what I remember of eating 48 flavors of ice cream in 2-1/2 hours, which is almost everything.  Enough to say that having not eaten 48 flavors of ice cream in one sitting  before, I was surprised that by the time we had reached the fourth category (candy) I wanted to shout, “Enough already! My teeth are getting fuzzy!”  But I did not because the four finalist and the 17 invited guests would have turned on me, and my lifeless body would have been found later in a butter vat, covered with tiny plastic spoons.

I was incredibly full.  Me–an ice cream addict who in a million years would never have thought ice cream could be filling.  But each taste was better than the last, every bite burst with creamy rich flavor; with wonderful ingredients and surprising names such as, Mud Puddle, Cloudy With a Chance of Cookies, Chocolate Freckles, Muddy Snowshoes and Cluster’s Last Stand.

The winning flavors for the four categories were: Mad About Chew (chocolate category) with chunks of brownies, mini candy coated chocolates, ribbons of peanut butter, and chocolate flavored ice cream; Red Hot Java (candy category) with cinnamon red hot candies, and cinnamon-coffee-flavored ice cream; Internut (nut category)with roasted almonds, white chocolate chunks, webs of chocolate fudge, and pistachio-flavored ice cream; and English Lemon Meringue Custard (fruit category) with lemon meringue swirl, pie pieces, and lemon-custard flavored ice cream.

They were all delicious.  My favorite, even though I am a chocolaholic, was the English Lemon Meringue Custard.  It was delightfully different.

As a parting gift, Darigold each gave us a talking  Ice Cream Man scoop.  It yells, “Ice Cream” and then you hear bells ringing from an old fashioned ice cream truck.  Unfortunately we ice cream addicts don’t like a lot of noise when we are sneaking the last bites out of the box, so I think I will keep that hidden in the drawer.