Misshapen Homemade Pizza or the State of Texas? You Decide.

I got a hankering last weekend for some homemade pizza, so I whipped up some pizza dough likety split, grabbed some toppings and a jar of spaghetti sauce and lo...this!

While it started out generally rectangular, during the baking process it came to resemble a misshapen state of Texas outline. (Or at least that's what TLS and I thought. You be the judge.)

The actual state of Texas

P.S. Those are home grown tomato and eggplant slices as pizza toppings. Yum!

What Says Summer More Than Homemade Ice Cream? - EDITED TO INCLUDE PHOTO AND RECIPE

So the other day in this post, I told you about our exciting, oh-so-cosmopolitan life and the berry picking therein. I kept thinking that there must be another way to use those plump, juicy, beautiful blackberries and finally decided that I'd make a simple blackberry syrup (basically pureed blackberries and a little sugar strained through a sieve) and swirl it in a recipe for homemade peach ice cream (with peach chunks!) that I made for the first time last year. Well, actually, it is technically a frozen custard rather than ice cream, but you get the gist. I tried making it the weekend before last and I don't think that I simmered the custard base long enough since even after more than an hour in the ice cream maker, it never froze. Not to be daunted, I tried again last night and, finally, success. Of course, I must give credit where credit is due and say that even though I wasn't sure it was going to gel, TLS always believed and helped coach that custard base into gorgeous, creamy ice cream. I'm going to try and post a photo of it tonight along with the recipe.

Fresh Peach Ice Cream with Blackberry Swirl

For blackberry swirl:
1/2 cup fresh blackberries
sugar to taste

place blackberries in food processor and puree until almost smooth. Place puree in a sieve placed over a mixing cup and and strain, pressing with rubber spatula to extract as much pulp and juice as possible. Sweeten to taste.

For ice cream:
1 cup sugar
3 large egg yolks
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1 cup whole milk
2 1/2 cups mashed pitted very ripe unpeeled peaches
3 tablespoons light corn syrup

Whisk sugar and egg yolks in medium bowl. Bring cream and milk to simmer in large saucepan; gradually whisk into yolk mixture. Return to same pan. Stir over medium-low heat until custard thickens enough to leave path on back of spoon when finger is drawn across, about 6 minutes (do not boil). Pour into large bowl; mix in peaches and corn syrup. Chill uncovered until cold, at least 1 hour.

Process custard in ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions. Pour blackberry puree in at the very end of the freezing process. Transfer to container; cover. Freeze.

Dogs and Kabobs

We had some friends over for dinner last Saturday since it was a particularly spectacular spring day here in North Texas. The weather was a little bit like the story of the three bears--not too hot, not too cold. It was juuuust right. But I digress. Already. Which, I guess, doesn't really bode well for the cohesiveness of this post, but then again I suppose that people don't read my blog for its triumph of organization. (Query: I wonder why it is that people DO read my blog. Probable Answer: Mostly because they are related to me in some way.)

But to get back on subject, such that it is, I talked with my friend Janet about what we were having for dinner and at her suggestion of "something easy" we decided on hot dogs. We divvied up the buying the provisions, so I went to the store. In addition to the hot dogs and stuff to make my world-famous salsa and pico de gallo, I ended up getting the ingredients to make a couple of other dishes. When TLS was helping me get the groceries out of the car I asked him if he'd tell me whether I had created an odd combination. My potentially odd combo? Hot dogs and vegetable kabobs. TLS thought for a moment and then said, "Dogs and kabobs. I like it." And I have to admit that it has a certain flair for the rhyme even if it is a little schizophrenic in the nutritional area. I also got the stuff to make some yummy cheese bread (using Aloutte cheese spread and thinly sliced zucchini and red onion). When our friends stopped at the store, in addition to the picnic friendly potato salad and cole slaw, they were drawn to the shrimp in the seafood case. After a consultation with the lady manning the seafood counter, they decided to use some foil to cook them on the grilltop.

Let me say, ladies and gentlemen, that we started eating chips and hot sauce at about 6 p.m. and finished eating our strawberry shortcake desert at 10 p.m. Here was the extent of our multicourse meal:

Course One:
chips with homemade salsa and guacamole
Course Two:
cheese bread
Course Three:
shrimp
Course Four:
vegetable kabobs
Course Five:
hotdogs with homemade pico de gallo
Course Six:
strawberry shortcake

In the meantime, we sat around the picnic table in the driveway and enjoyed the evening, good friends and an adult beverage or two. Good times.

Chick-O-What?

Many of you know that I no longer eat chocolate, which is a pity, I know. Believe me, no one would love to eat it more than I do, but it would be BAD NEWS of the very, very bad variety if I did, so I don't. Why? You very understandably ask. Well, that's an exceedingly long story that I usually boil down to the simple phrase, "I have a chronic pain condition that I keep under control with diet." Most of the time, people (read: men) infer that the mysterious condition of which I speak is of the dreaded female variety and ... voila! end. of. story. It has been over ten years since my last taste of chocolate and actually, if I were forced to confess, it hasn't been too bad. Granted, I do sometimes ask TLS if I can smell (really! just smell!) the fantastically chocolatey thing he's eating. And, come to think of it, I did have dreams right after I went on zero chocolate lock-down where I was cramming an entire slice of chocolate cake into my mouth. That being said, though, probably the hardest thing has been to find candy or dessert options that don't have chocolate in them. (This is hardly a a tragedy of epic proportions, I realize. Just trying to give a little background. Really.)

One of the non-chocolate candies that I have recently re-discovered is the humble Chick-O-Stick. It's made in (relatively) nearby Lufkin, Texas -- a fact I didn't realize until I went looking for a link for this post -- and it warms the little Texan cockles of my heart to know that I'm supporting a local business. For those of you who don't follow the link above, a Chick-O-Stick is basically a cylindrical Butterfinger ... only better. I hadn't had one in years (literally years since I think it was during that far-off land of junior high the last time I ate one) and bought one on a whim several months ago. "Ooh!" I thought to myself, "I really like this candy," and mentioned it to TLS. Flash forward to a month or so ago when he was headed to the local convenience store/gas station/local old geezer hang-out. He asked if I wanted anything and I was non-committal so he promised to bring me back a surprise (or a "sussie" if you live at our house). You guessed it, he came back with a handful of Chick-O-Stick (There will be no judging; they are only about half an inch in diameter and about three inches long so it wasn't like I was eating four or five of those king sized candy bars.) and an addiction was born. When I get more than one I swear that I'm only going to eat one and save the rest for later--make them last--and then dang if I don't eat them all within the first 30 minutes. I cannot tell a lie; I am truly weak.

Earlier this week after stopping at the convenience store/gas station/local old geezer hang-out, TLS came out with another handful and as I munched my way through them before we could even get home, I had this brilliant thought, "I bet TLS buys me the world's largest Chick-O-Stick for my 40th birthday." (A birthday that is still eleven months off, I must remind everyone. I am but a mere spring chicken.) I turned and shared this momentous idea with him and watched his eyes almost bug out of his head. Apparently, he had been having the exact same thought. Freaky, I know. I think it is official. We are now sharing a single warped brain. Go figure.

Songs and Surprises

So yesterday was my 39th birthday. (Insert sounds of shock and astonishment here.) I know. I know. It's impossible that I'm in my (extremely) late thirties.

I had a really great day, which actually started on Tuesday night when TLS gave me my birthday present...the iPod Touch. It seriously rocks. Love. It. Already. I could give you the whole run-down on the uber coolness of it, but I'm sure it would sound like "blah, blah, blah. iPod blah, blah."

I came to work yesterday and received birthday greetings from many friends and co-workers. I even had some really random people wishing me a happy birthday and was starting to think that some kind of email notification had gone out. I suppose the how or why really doesn't matter since it was just nice to realize that people were thinking of me. (I guess I had a real Sally Field moment. They like me. They really like me.) I went and read to the preschool kids at lunch and while I knew that I'd be smiling the rest of the day, I didn't realize that I'd get some great kid-isms in the bargain.

After finishing my reading (and by the way, I had completely forgotten the real story of the three little pigs, the first two of which get eaten (eaten!) by the wolf and then the wolf tries to trick the third pig out of the house and finally tries to climb down the chimney, falls into the pot of boiling water the pig has placed there and gets eaten (eaten!) by the pig for dinner), here was the conversation.
Me: Do you all know what today is?
Kid #1: Wednesday
Me: (laughing) Yes, but in addition to being Wednesday, it's my birthday.
Kid #2: My mom can make some cupcakes!
Me: (laughing) I don't think that'll be necessary.
Teacher: Let's sing to her.
All kids: (A lovely, if off-key, rendition of Happy Birthday guaranteed to make your heart melt)

About a week ago, TLS asked if I wanted to go to my favorite restaurant, Hibiscus, on the night of my birthday. I, of course, heartily agreed and he told me that he'd take care of getting the reservation. After he called them, he told me that our reservation was for 7:30. I thought this was a little late (since once he picked me up from work at 5:30ish it would only take about 10 minutes to get to the restaurant), but he told me that they were packed because of spring break and that was the only time he could get. (This is why I am the easiest person in the world to plan a surprise for, because I will apparently believe any old bill of goods that you hand me.) To kill some time, we ended up going to Best Buy to find a case for my new iPod Touch. (Have I mentioned my new Touch?!) We got to the restaurant at 7:30 and were shown to our table. As we walked behind the hostess, I kept thinking that we were passing all kinds of open tables in the front but was also excited because I'd never before sat in the more private back room. I had my eye on the small table for two next to the wall but glanced over to see my friend Dorina sitting at another table. I swear to God that my thought was, "Oh! Dorina is eating here tonight, too. What a coincidence." I'm such a dork, because she along with her boyfriend Michael, and my friends Cathy and Kim were there to help us celebrate. We had a fabulous meal. I forced myself to save a couple of my lamb chops to enjoy for dinner tonight and finished it all off with their lavender ice cream. (It sounds revolting, I know. But it is delish! Take my word for it.)

What a full day: good friends, good food, kids singing and surprises. How can you beat that?!

Belated New Year's Day (With Recipe!)

Although it was a few days late, I did manage to complete my New Year's Day rituals last Saturday. I made my black eyed peas and put up the new crop of Christmas photos on the fridge. Here's the evidence:

Spicy Black Eyed Peas:

3 Tbl. olive oil

1 cup chopped onion

1 large clove garlic, minced

1 tsp. cumin

1 tsp. dry mustard

1 tsp. chili powder

1/2 cup dried black eyed peas, cooked

2 10-oz. cans Rotel tomatoes and chilies

1 cup cooked shredded pork (optional)

1 tsp. white vinegar

salt and pepper to taste

Boil the dried black eyed peas with plenty of water for 45 minutes to 1.5 hours, or until soft, then drain. In a separate pan, saute onion, garlic and spices in olive oil until the onions are soft. Add the peas, tomatoes and shredded pork. Simmer 20 minutes. Add the vinegar, salt and pepper. Best when served with warm corn bread. These peas are very spicy. If you like more mild food, adjust the amount chili powder to 1/2 tsp in the beginning and add more with the salt, pepper and vinegar, if necessary. I use shredded smoked pork roast, but diced ham would be good as well.

Happy Thanksgiving Greetings

So here's what's on my agenda today:

Working from home, which I thought would mean a nice quiet day to leisurely get through the few things that people would need, but has turned into everyone freaking out because of the four day weekend.

Starting on the Thanksgiving cooking. I'm about to go start on my Carmel Pudding Tart with Almond Shortbread Crust. I love this dessert and it is quite a show-stopper, but I also like to call it my Two-Day Dessert. I need to make the crust today and freeze it overnight before baking it tomorrow morning (or maybe, now that I think about it, late tonight since the oven is going to be full of turkey come tomorrow morning).

This is about when all my entertaining anxiety starts to reach a fevered pitch. I need to start chanting to myself, "Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine."

A happy Thanksgiving to everyone! I hope you all eat to your heart's content and then watch the Cowboys beat the Jets tomorrow afternoon. (Hey, I can't help it. I'm a fan!)

Thanksgiving As Brought To You By An Insane Person

I just got back from the grocery store where I finished the majority of my shopping for Thanksgiving dinner. My mom and brother are joining us at our house for my first ever turkey. Yikes! Here's the thing. I really do like to cook and have people over, but I have become a real cooking purist. Not sure how it happened but there you have it. When entertaining, I make my own salsa, salad dressing, bake my bread from scratch and generally make things as difficult as possible for myself. It's a pain in the patootie, but somehow it seems like cheating to do it any other way. (I by no means want to imply that I hold anyone else to this standard--hell, I'm always thrilled if anyone else cooks for me. Whatever it is. Really.)

I think this comes from being a perfectionist. (Being a perfectionist and motivationally challenged is not a good combination. Trust me on this one.) It's as if I'm competing against myself to create the most lavish, delicious, spectacular feast of all time. As one of our friends said to me during a dinner at his home where I brought a salad (complete with homemade vinaigrette and almonds I toasted) and 7-grain bread baked fresh that afternoon, "Take a pill, Over-achiever!" Sigh.

The Thanksgiving Menu at Chez Inertia
Honey-brined Turkey with gravy
Green Beans with Caramelized Shallots
Green Salad with Cranberry Vinaigrette
Gouda Mashed Potato Casserole
Sweet Potatoes with Prailine Topping
Parkerhouse Rolls
Caramel Pudding Tart with Almond Shortbread Crust

It also isn't me entertaining unless there is some inkling of an impending preparation melt-down. So many questions flying through my brain for hours on end. Is it all going to come together? Will everything taste okay? Did I neglect to buy some vitally important ingredient that is now unavailable because it is Thanksgiving Day? Generally, though, everything always works out--except for The Pork Loin Incident, which I still maintain had to do with our oven starting its inevitable decline into decrepitude and not my cooking skills.

I'm also hoping to avoid The Sweet Potato Casserole Debacle from several years ago. Picture Thanksgiving Dinner at my mom's house. Everything is done and we're getting the last of the sides out of the oven and are getting ready to dish out the food and sit down to eat. I'm pulling the sweet potato casserole out of the oven. I only have to take the Pyrex casserole dish out of the oven, pivot and put it on the kitchen island directly behind me. I didn't even have to take a step. With my trusty oven mitts on, I pick up the dish and turn. It slips out of my hands, hits the floor and shatters, flinging molten sweet potatoes all over the kitchen and my shoes. Thank goodness I wasn't barefoot. Needless to say, those yams weren't on the table after we finished wiping up vegetable puree and sweeping up slivers of glass. Ah, there's nothing like the holidays!

I'll try and post pictures of the food next Friday.