Dinomite’s Fluffy Bites – this recipe was created by my teammate for our GishWhes team, Brave Little Ants last week. The flag in the cupcake is our symbol, designed by another teammate.
The ingredients include kale which is the (un)official food stuff of GishWhes.
A pie shared is a pie devoured.
Dutch Apple and Delicious
My Dad used to eat peanuts all the time. He’d get this big bag of peanuts still in their shells. He’d crack them open and go through that bag in one or two days. He’d toss the shells in a paper garbage bag next to his chair, but on occasion he’d miss. Some days before he cleaned it up it looked like the floor of a country bar or a Ground Round in the “old” days of my childhood. I still flashback to my Dad sitting in his blue recliner in our den when I see those big bags of peanuts in the shells.
I used to love Nutter Butter cookies because of him also. And Vienna Fingers. It’s amazing what pops into your head from childhood, especially where food is related.
Imperial Dragon Pearls
Remembering my friend today with a link to photos of tea rituals around the world.
Originally posted on the CondeNast Tumblr and Website.
Happy National Pie Day (I thought that was March 14th.) I can’t remember the first time I had pecan pie. My parents didn’t eat it so it must have been from a friend or my mother in law.
I think my favorite would be apple pie, but even more so Dutch Apple pie. Yum.
Pecan pie is an American dessert that is native to the southern states (USA). The history of the pecan pie is not very clear, though pecan pie took off in popularity in the early 20th century. The pie has its place as a dessert at most American dinner tables.
Pecan pie has a sweet, nutty flavor and a custard texture that no other pie can claim. Pecan pie is one of the most frequently eaten pies in the country, next to Apple pie.
The pecan tree is indigenous to North America and grows throughout much of the southern United States. With such wide spread growth of the pecan trees , the early French settlers in the then known Louisiana territory had invented the pecan pie.
Today the southern states harvest over 250 million pounds of pecans each year, with Texas and Georgia pecan groves claiming the majority of…
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Just a quick word of advice and one that I don’t always think of.
I spent this morning helping to fill Christmas food baskets with my church’s St. Vincent de Paul Society. I am one of the people who benefits directly from this group, and I wanted to give back something.
I was in charge of cake mixes and corn bread.
I almost never check expiration dates. Not at the grocery store, not in my own pantry. I assume it’s good, and if it’s slightly outdated it’s still not bad. I mean, I tell my husband all the time that you could use the cans fro WWII. He does not agree. However, if something expired nine months ago, it’s fine.
It really is.
However….
when you’re donating food to a food pantry or church, clearing out your unwanteds is a win-win for everyone, but please, please check the expiration dates.
A group like this can’t give out expired food.
For one thing, many people receiving the basket from the food pantry probably won’t check the dates. (I wouldn’t.)
I threw out about ten or so boxes of food because of the dates. Most had expired in 2012/2013, but I had two older than that – one from 2008 and one from 2004.
There are many ways to donate. One is buy a couple of extra boxes/cans on sale when you’re doing your regular grocery shopping. Another is donating money. Most of us can’t afford to give away a lot, but every dollar adds up, and if you put it in an envelope and mark it for the food pantry, it really is appreciated. (In our case, families with children get three $15 gift cards to the local supermarket chain. Some families this year received a coupon for a free 14 pound turkey from another chain.
Our group had 125 families from three churches receiving food and Christmas gifts. They made three extra food baskets for surprise walk-ins. Any leftover food goes down to the city’s food pantry. Then they start collecting again.
More and more this is a need that people request all throughout the year, not just at the holidays, so it’s never too early or too late to donate as long as the expiration dates are far enough in the future.
Before we started, we are reminded of why we’re there: as Christians, we are called to act as Christ would, and helping the poor is at the top of that list. We then start our morning off with the Lord’s Prayer
Tea has been a part of my life since I was a child. My family used to go to a Chinese restaurant on Horace Harding Blvd. in Queens, NY. They always gave everyone a glass of water and in the middle of the table was a bowl of crunchy noodles, a metal tea pot, duck sauce and hot mustard. My parents mixed the hot mustard with the duck sauce, which we kids didn’t like. We always drank the tea in those little tea cups that had no handles. I poured in way more sugar than it probably needed. I don’t think I liked tea as much then as I do now, but tea was part of the Chinese restaurant ritual. The owner knew us by name; I think we must have gone there weekly.
That tea was always too hot, steam rising as it was poured out into the small white cups. It sat for a bit, steam rising, too hot to pick up, but when it was lukewarm it was perfect, at least to my elementary school self it was. Chinese tea had a very distinctive taste, and it wasn’t until last year that I discovered that taste again.
I know I’ve talked about the teas that I tried and wrote about in memory of a friend, a victim of domestic violence, and after those were completed, my friend had sent me a variety of loose teas that he enjoyed and wanted to share with me. My favorites were Lady Londonderry and Moroccan Mint. His Moroccan Mint was a black leaf variety; I had only been able to find a green tea, which I did not like as well.
I discovered a local tea shop and started trying new teas and sharing them with friends. The one that my friend really enjoyed is Mexican Chocolate. This is lovely with milk and a tiny bit of sugar if any, and I found it especially wonderful to drink during Christmas time.
It was during these experimentations and tastings that I found Pai Mu Tan. This was the one that when I tried and tasted it I was transported back to the end of the Chinese dinners of my childhood.
British comedies sent me on a path of no return of putting milk in my tea. It was usually Lipton’s or Tetley or very occasionally Red Rose. My regular go-to tea now is none of those; it is a black leaf tea with ginger. It was a chance visit to a Job Lots where I discovered Stash’s Ginger Black Breakfast Tea; the first ginger tea that I had found that was a black tea and not a tisane. This became my daily drink with milk and sugar. When that one box ran out, I ordered a case. Even sharing it still took quite awhile to run out.
While I visiting friends in Denver a few years ago, I was treated to proper British tea. PG Tips with milk and sugar made by an authentic Brit. There was nothing quite like waking up to a beautiful, hot, blissful cup of tea. It was perfect. Every time.
I also went through a Star Trek phase and only drank Earl Grey, hot.
I’m not a fan of green tea, but last Lent when I gave up Diet Coke, it was recommended that I drink green tea with jasmine. This tea tasted good and it would counter the negative effects of always drinking soda. This was my daily drink during Lent with sugar, no milk. It made me feel good. I don’t know if that was the tea itself or if it was its relation to the spirituality of my Lenten habit.
My current favorite is from Twining’s: Honeybush, Mandarin and Orange. I add a bit of sugar, although I think honey would work as well. There is the warm soothing taste and the citrusy kick as it slides across my tongue. Since I’ve been so sick, I also pretend that it has enough vitamin C to keep me healthy.
When I go to therapy, I am asked if I want coffee, tea or water. I don’t drink coffee, so I always say water, although most days I’d rather have the tea. Unfortunately, my personality won’t ask for tea because it’s too much bother and for an hour long session, it would be too hot to drink immediately and then once I started talking, it would be too cold to enjoy. My anxieties are a complicated lot.
Tea, however, is not complicated at all. Tea is comfort. It is that cozy friend who sits in your lap and holds your hand. It’s medicinal. Tea makes all things better. It listens to the beat of your soul. Tea understands even when you don’t.
I have this wonderful childhood memory of Jiffy Pop. I know that it wasn’t my kitchen, but I can’t remember which friend it belonged to. I think the stove was aqua and it was next to the back door which was left open. It was a comfortable day. The sun was shining but it was not too hot. I think it was in fact, cool.
The kitchen was a very small square room. Not that my kitchen at home was any bigger, but mine was long like a galley, narrow enough that I could put one hand on the counter and one on the stove and swing like a gymnast. I think that cost me a ride to the emergency room and five stitches in my head.
But back to the popcorn.
I still picture the metal foil rising into a balloon and the loud crackling and popping until the popcorn couldn’t fit anymore. It was wondrous. There was no such thing as microwaves at least not in our homes and so certainly no microwave popcorn. This was easy. It was fast. Jiffy, in fact. It was buttery delicious and perfect. At least, that’s how I remembered it.
Two weeks ago, my favorite show (Supernatural) had a reunion of sorts and in the promo pictures next to the rescued man watching a reel-to-reel film was a Jiffy Pop package that he was eating popcorn out of. He took them and ate them one at a time. I noticed because who takes them one at a time?
Before the show I ran to the supermarket and bought myself some Jiffy Pop. I would eat it with the characters because fandom is weird like that. I couldn’t wait to get into my kitchen and make a memory come alive.
I read the directions carefully.
Hmm, I don’t remember shaking the pan when I was a kid. I don’t remember moving it in circles against the element. No flames on this electric stove, but the directions said it was fine. I didn’t remember the smoke I think was caused from the friction of rubbing the bottom of the Jiffy Pop package on the range top. Constant smoke rising; I had to turn the fan on. It smelled awful and it was taking forever. I hadn’t even heard popping yet. How long had I been standing over this stove? An hour? Two? More likely less than five minutes, maybe six.
It was taking forever!
Finally, the popping began. Still I shook the pan and made the circles and listened to the pop pop popping. The foil made a balloon and eventually, maybe five minutes more I gave up.
I cleared the smoke.
I tore open the foil with a fork and ate a piece.
Hmm, not very good. Not at all like I remembered.
I’ll wait for the show to start and try it again.
It didn’t get much better. I ate about half and then was grateful when my teenager asked for a handful.
“Take the rest,” I said sadly.
Some things should be left as memories.
Griffins and Ginger Snaps 