Oh My Muhammara!

HOME– So. Where were we? We were talking about Muhammara. You remember- the spicy Middle Eastern dip heavy on the roasted red peppers, garlic and olive oil; with a few toasted walnuts thrown in for nutty goodness.

Yep. And we were talking about how lip-licking tasty this stuff is. Were you there? Well, if you were or if you weren’t, you are now and that’s all that matters. I have been snacking on this stuff for the past two weeks, most of which time, I’ve been under the weather. When this happens, I have this unproven theory that spicy foods will kick me back into prime time. One day, I am sure it will work. In the meantime, the spice seems to suffice.

Anyway, it’s high time I share.

My good friend, culinary connoisseur, and, lest-I-mention one of THE MOST RIGHTEOUS home cooks I’ve ever known– Kelly Bragg, first shared this with me many years ago. I thought it was delish and I drove home from Kiawah Island and whipped up a batch for myself. For years, I couldn’t get enough of this dip with a funny name.

You know how it is… you fall in love with a taste and you just can’t get enough. And then slowly, over the years, you forget about your palate’s true love and life moseys along. I hope you make it and love it as much as I do. Don’t bother waiting until you’re feeling bad.

Muhammara

Makes about 1 3/4 cups

7-ounce jar Roasted Red Peppers, drained
2/3 cup fine Fresh Bread Crumbs
1/3 cup Walnuts, toasted lightly and chopped fine
2 to 4 Garlic cloves, minced and mashed to a paste with 1/2 teaspoon Salt
1 tablespoon fresh Lemon Juice, or to taste
1 teaspoon ground Cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried, hot Red Pepper Flakes
2 t Pomegranate Molasses

3/4 cup Extra-Virgin Olive Oil
toasted Pita triangles as an accompaniment

In a food processor blend together the peppers, the bread crumbs, the walnuts, the garlic (go easy on this unless your taste buds are willing to be catapulted), the lemon juice, the pomegranate molasses, the cumin, the red pepper flakes, and salt to taste until the mixture is smooth and, with the motor running, add the oil gradually. Transfer the muhammara to a bowl and serve it at room temperature with the pita triangles.

Mustard Greens Salad with Quinoa, Feta & Lemon Vinaigrette

Camden, South Carolina– Today is spectacular- one of those extraordinarily perfect days that make all the others jealous. Today is also a day for celebrating the unconventional. Today we took my mom and dad on a skeet shooting adventure.

Shooting orange clay pigeons out of the sky with a 12-gauge shotgun isn’t exactly what I’d envisioned in my future, let’s say, EVER. But, I have to admit I’ve fallen head over heels for the sport. No wolves are harmed and shooting a few rounds of shells from a high powered gun is exhilarating, despite the unwelcome comparisons.

I know. It is a stretch. But before I was too critical, I tried it. And I loved it. Part of my hesitation was no doubt the elephant-gun-sized stigma that guns have earned. And living in South Carolina has its share of cultural baggage–historically, we have been known to bear a few too many arms. And today, we still are a bit overzealous about our right to do that. It doesn’t exactly make me well with pride, but I do understand both sides of the issue.

So, what does this skeet shooting soiree have to do with a mustard greens salad? Well, earlier today, when the sun hung itself like a big slow moving skeet in the sky, I ate my first outdoor lunch of the year. And it, too, was exhilarating.

You see, swearing by this Issue’s subtitle, “Organically Smitten,” I’ve become somewhat of an organic groupie. I’ve been skulking around the locally-grown, organic fruits and vegetable aisle, bypassing the conventional, shipped-from-around-the-world fruit on the shelf and paying oh-so-dearly for my little health folly. I’ve also been expecting more. And I haven’t been disappointed.

This salad has a hot and spicy kickback like that big old shotgun. And I love it. If you can find baby mustard greens, it’s even better because of the softness in the leaves. I didn’t grow up eating uncooked mustard greens. At the very least, they were wilted. But, straight out of the Mother Earth, they burst inside your mouth like tiny whirring bottle rockets, curling and zipping all around your tongue.

I know this recipe may be a long shot for many of you, but I, for one, am smitten. If I owned a restaurant, this salad would be on my menu.

For your amusement, (and in no way my Mother’s amusement) I’ve added a special photo of my mom, Jackie, firing off her first shotgun shell. I love how her mind is always open to new things, like firing a shotgun for fun or eating a raw mustard green salad with quinoa.

Oh, and there’s also one of growing Mazy- already over forty pounds! From what I could tell, she’s a fan of skeet shooting, too.

Mustard Greens Salad with Quinoa, Feta and Lemon Vinaigrette

Serves two, easily doubled

1/2 cup uncooked Quinoa (cook like rice – in 1 cup of salted water)
1 cup cooked Garbanzo Beans
4 cups loosely packed Mustard Greens, torn into bite-sized pieces (baby mustard greens are a great find)
5-10 Kalamata olives
3 Pepperoncini, cut into slices
1 Scallion, chopped
Chunks of fresh Feta Cheese

In a large salad bowl, combine cooked quinoa, garbanzo beans and half of lemon vinaigrette. Add remaining ingredients and toss.

Lemon Vinaigrette
3 T Olive Oil
3 T White Balsamic Vinegar
Juice and grated peel of 1 Medium Lemon
1 t Honey
1/4 t Sea Salt (taste and add more, if preferred)
A few fresh grinds of Black Pepper

Combine all ingredients in a small jar and shake. Makes enough vinaigrette for two recipes.

Click more for photos… More »

Issue no. 10: Love & the Art of Household Maintenance

Issue no. 10: Yes, there should be commentary on these twenty eight days. But, there’s none to be had this morning. Perhaps later.

Until then, maybe these meager words will suffice. I know you’re wondering what a verbose girl like me is doing with a practically wordless post. I suppose the truth is, that sometimes in life you just have to throw in the towel on certain moments and declare, “I got nothin.”

The Yummest of Hummus

HOME– Walking down the grocery aisle, I find myself slipping another Sabra Hummus into my cart. I am a Sabra junkie. It’s the only packaged hummus that keeps me coming back for more. Open my refrigerator, on any random day, and you will find the red plastic tub on the middle shelf.

Unless we’ve eaten it all.

It comes in over a dozen different varieties. And every variety I’ve tried, I’ve loved. My favorites are the Supremely Spicy, the Jalapeno, and the Greek Olive. I have a spicy, salty tongue. And I buy way too many red plastic tubs.

And love Sabra as I may, I need fewer plastic tubs in my life.

So today, I am returning to my long lost recipe for homemade hummus.

I also want to remove as much of the citric acid, potassium sorbate and sodium benzoate, as is humanly possible when you live and buy food off of any urban corner in America.

As I type this, I realize I forgot the fresh jalapenos– altering the universe in one fell swoop can be tough.

Basic Hummus, spiked with Jalapenos

2 cups Garbanzo Beans, or Chick Peas (Dried, cooked-in-Kosher Salt beans are the BEST, but cans, drained, will do in a pinch)
1/3 cup Tahini Paste
1/3 cup Lemon Juice (1 medium lemon= 3 T juice, so approximately 2 to 3 lemons, depending on size, add the pulp)
1 large clove of Garlic, roughly chopped
1/2 t Kosher Salt
Good quality, Extra Virgin Olive Oil, for drizzling
1/4 cup Jalapenos, minced (here, I go for the jar, but fresh slices, soaked in vinegar, make this a health food junkie’s spread)

Combine all ingredients except Olive Oil and Jalapenos into a food processor. Whir until smooth. Remove to a bowl. Pour on the Olive Oil and jalapenos. Add some baked chips or toasted pita slices.

From Red Pepper Risotto with Love

HOME– Love comes in many forms over a lifetime. Lately, in our house, it’s coming in the form of healthy, fresh food, prepared with intention. We’ve grown rather fond of our new two cooks in the kitchen habit. Whoever seems to have the most energy or enthusiasm for cooking takes over the kitchen for the night, while the other hangs out and talks about the day or shares the latest news or funny video clip off of the Internet.

It’s like warming your hands over a burner– love at its toastiest.

If we were out somewhere, paying big bucks for a fancy meal, I’d probably be scanning the menu for risotto. Chefs have a way of stirring this plain white grain into luxurious and extravagant spoonfuls. They mix up delightful and beatific harmonies, such as butternut squash and smoked pork, red pear and Gorgonzola, or risotto with fennel and fresh peas. At home, I charge much less for my risotto dishes and, frankly, my pairings are just as curious, extravagant and delightful.

Tonight’s my turn at the stove and I’m cooking a red pepper risotto, topped with delicate fried sage leaves. Frying the sage layers the risotto with a subtle, earthy aroma and adds a soft, crisp tease for your teeth.

This will be served up alongside Ina Garten’s Parmesan Chicken- my favorite recipe for boneless, skinless chicken. Haven’t tried it yet? Well, get thee to thy poultry aisle and don’t forget to grab some lemons and a wedge of the finest Parmesan you can swing. Oh, yeah. Ina’s Parmesan Chicken is one of the best modern classics you can memorize.

Red Pepper Risotto with Fried Sage Leaves

20-30 fresh Sage leaves

Olive Oil

1 Small Yellow Onion

1 clove Garlic (optional)

3-4 Celery Heart stalks and leaves, cut into a small chop

1 cup dry Risotto (Arborio Rice), rinsed until the water runs clear

2-3 cups good quality Chicken Stock (I recommend the left-over aspic from a slow-cooker whole chicken or chicken breasts)

1 Red Bell Pepper, chopped

Kosher Salt and Freshly Ground Black Pepper, to taste

In a large frying pan, fry the sage leaves in a light layer of olive oil, turning them once. Place on paper towels. In a medium saucepan, soften onion, garlic and celery on low heat. Sprinkle a small amount of salt. Add rice and saute for two more minutes. Add Red Bell Pepper and slowly add chicken stock, 1/4 to 1/2 cup at a time, until rice is thick and cooked, about 25 minutes. Taste, season, add sage leaves, and serve.

The Secret Dog Society

HOME– I would not make a good spy. And to use some of our choice new household language (developed just for Mazy), I might describe myself as “Bad spy. Bad spy girl.”

Prime example:  I never knew a secret subculture of society (yes, our red-blooded American brethren) exists and will only openly approach you if you are walking with a dog. YES! Walk by yourself or walk with a friend and you will walk for years without so much as a head nod from some of these very same people. Grab a leash, a plastic bag, and a happy-go-lucky puppy and you are a card-carrying member without so much as an interview.

Mazy, sitting pretty.

Honestly, I am not much for clubs or organizations, of any ilk. I try to avoid crowds and public shows of affiliation or doorways that lead to socially-respectable meetings following protocol such as Robert’s Rules of Order or obligatory ties for men.

However {pause for emphasis}, I am rethinking my anti-social leanings. This canine club has a powerful pull on me. They rarely gather- it seems to be more of a chance street encounter with the option of a secret pawshake, which ~thankfully~ Mazy seems to know. I’m becoming quite taken with this overt declaration of neighborliness and freewheeling profession of puppy love.

Are you in this society? You are a friendly bunch. You want to know all sorts of personal information about Mazy. You want to pet her and you laugh when she kisses you; you don’t seem to mind that she’s got a leaf hanging out of her mouth. I hope that’s a leaf.

You never seemed very interested in my cat. Which, by the way, is his preferable relationship with you, too, so it’s all good. In fact, for the life of him, he cannot understand what all the fuss is over this clumsy, barking, overly-friendly fur ball. He finds her intellectually stunted and socially unrefined.

Mazy, however, is craaaaazzy to meet you. Her tail is thumping at the very thought of it. Oh, the exhilaration –it’s too fantastic to even imagine!! Oh happy, happy day!! This is possibly the very best moment of her life, EVER.

Mazy’s got baby status. She’s not with me? I bring out the iPhone with her photos and you gush. Funny thing is, I want to ask you questions about your dog, too. I am genuinely interested. What kind? Boy or girl? How old? What color? Do you have a picture? “Oooh, what a doll baby!”

I do believe this is my kind of club. I am Kim Byer, Secret Dog Society member for 14 weeks and counting.

Hand Torn Pasta with a Fiery Tomato Tapenade

HOME–On a recent blustery afternoon, we made reservations for the evening at a new Italian restaurant.  In my mind’s eye, I conjured up a plate of thick, al dente, hand torn pasta. This is what I would order: chewy squares of semolina pasta drizzled in olive oil and sprinkled with fried capers or lemon peel or flakes of red peppers.

Checking out the restaurant’s site, I acquiesced my pasta dream dish wasn’t on the menu, but surely it would be a Nightly Special. Surely. Surely, steaming, thick squares of hand torn pasta is on everyone’s mind (including any Italian chef worth his sale) during these frigid months.

Or surely not, Crazy Lady.

Undeterred, I continued to envision the rustic torn pasta. I’d first fallen in love with this type of pasta on our trip to the Amalfi Coast a couple of years ago. So, last night, like any sorceress worth her salt, I conjured it up myself.

We’ve actually been making a similar sauce for weeks. In fact, while I was knee deep in fatigue, Rich commandeered the kitchen and the shopping. {gasp!} After six years of dating and six more of marriage, letting Rich take control of my domain was a sure sign something was amiss. Not that he can’t cook. He’s actually a very good cook. He’s the guy who follows a recipe precisely and turns out perfect plate after perfect plate. If you know Rich, you know that he is the Rule Follower in this family. I am the refrigerator scrounging, five pots for a one-pot meal, interpretive, expressionistic, flour-in-my-hair, who-needs-a-measuring-cup, wonder-what-a-pinch-of-this-will-do, black sheep member.

My biggest request was for his fresh Sea Bass with Tomato, Olives, and Capers by Ellie Krieger. Her hearty tomato sauce almost overwhelms the fish. And being the reluctant fish eater that I am, I am cool with that. As expected, I’ve altered Ellie’s recipe and created my very own fiery tomato tapenade sauce. And although I assure you this dish doesn’t need a protein, it would go brilliantly with chicken, veal, pork, beef, or obviously, sea bass.

Hand Torn Pasta with a Fiery Tomato Tapenade


Dough

3/4 cups of Semolina Flour
3/4 cups of Unbleached White Flour mixed with 1/2 t Kosher Salt
2 Eggs, beaten
2 T Water
2 T Olive Oil (optionally substitute Chili Oil)
2 T chopped Parsley (for topping only!)

Knead the dough for 10 minutes until it’s pliable and smooth. If you have a stand up mixer with a dough hook, knead on medium speed for ten minutes. Large humming appliances tend to make the dough much smoother and our lives much easier, but honestly, the cooked result will not be noticeably different. And personally, I think kneading dough is one of life’s greatest pleasures. The semolina is a textured flour. Be sure the texture has been smoothed when the heel of your hand flattens it.

Next, rest the dough beneath a dish towel for 20 minutes while you make your sauce and heat your pasta water. When ready, roll the dough into a large, pizza-sized round. The dough will thicken as it cooks, so roll it out thinner than you want it to cook up. If you use a pasta roller with six depth notches, pass it through until you reach three or four. I prefer my dough a bit thick for this recipe.

Tear the round into approximately 2 x 2 squares or 2 x 3 rectangles. Don’t worry about being uniform. Cook squares in salted, oiled and boiling water until al dente. Cool and top with parsley and additional olive oil.

Tomato Tapenade Sauce

2 T Olive Oil (optionally substitute Chili Oil)
1 small Yellow Onion, diced
2 cloves of Garlic (optional)
1/2 cup Chardonnay
28 oz. can of Tomatoes (e.g. Muir Glen Fire Roasted Crushed Tomatoes)
1/2 cup pitted, Spicy Green and Black Olives
2 T Capers, drained
2 Anchovies, minced (optional)
1/4 t Red Pepper Flakes
Kosher Salt and Freshly Ground Pepper to taste

In a large skillet, heat the olive oil and saute the yellow onion until tender. Add the garlic and saute another minute. Add the wine and cook until it’s reduced by half. Add remaining ingredients and cook for fifteen or so minutes. Season with Kosher Salt and Pepper.

A handful of Pine Nuts, lightly toasted
Parmesan for shaving (e.g. Parmigiano-Reggiano)
Extra Virgin Olive Oil

In low pasta bowls, layer your pasta and sauce. Drizzle extra virgin olive oil over the top. Top with toasted pine nuts and Parmesan shavings.

Issue No. 9: Peace on Hearth

HOME– If Paper Apron were a real business, I’d be announcing All Sales Are Final.

Five posts in eight weeks and I’m still scratching my head at where the time went. Sure, there were Christmas and New Year’s, puppy training and my wedding anniversary and that whole depression thing and the buzz-killing cold winter weather advisories. But, still…five posts?!! Issue No. 9 is inexcusable. Ah, well.

Let’s heat up these winter doldrums with a new issue and a little Love and the Art of Household Maintenance. We’ll give this issue a twenty-eight day lifespan, mainly because I’m not sure I can handle the Mary Kay pink-a-boo masthead for much longer than that.

What will Love & the Art of Household Maintenance be about? Well, we’re all still in the mood to organize and reconstruct our lives. We’ve swept up the holiday glitter and packed away the twinkling lights. But, looking around, it seems dull without the shiny baubles. We need to rethink our decor; fluff up our nest.

As we reevaluate surroundings, we’re also reevaluating ourselves. We know we need to eat healthier, but we’re willing to splurge in the name of romance. Before the month’s end, I know I’ll order a large slice of Death by Chocolate cake and slurp down a ceramic mug of creamy hot chocolate. And in between popping a few truffles into my mouth, I’ll focus on healthy versions of comforting foods. February is a contradictory time lapse of good habits versus naughty moments. February is a test.

And what’s Love got to do with it? Love is the drug. Love is the most important ingredient in every dish we make. Without love, a meal may as well be eaten in a fast food parking lot, by yourself.

~~And a note to all of you who kept coming to visit, despite the half-empty reception, Bless You. My staycation is over. My head is back in the blog. It’s time once again, to share the love.

(( Did I Forget to Mention There’s an Intermission? ))

I, uh… I’ve been taking a mini vacay.

I, uh. I should’ve said something. I know. I didn’t set out to be inconsiderate. I guess those things just happen.

{ Wince }

I actually didn’t know I was going to be gone so long. However, my imagination seemed to wander off, too, and for the life of me, I couldn’t think of anything that I was doing that you’d be interested in.

So, tonight I made an ~avatar~ if you will, of my (younger) self and what I’ve been sitting around doing, with apologies to Satchel Paige.

Yes. I am on vacation this week and last- in between projects at work. But, I’m actually just hanging out at my house. I’m on one of those trendy, oh-so-not-glamorous staycations.

In truth, I have nothing much to do, nowhere in particular to go. I am staying up late and waking up late. I am lounging through entire episodes of the Today Show. I am praying for the Haitians. I am mad at Congress. I am reading, but not recommending, Cleaving. I am hanging out on Facebook, looking at strangers’ photos. I am frying eggs over easy for breakfast and rolling out homemade cinnamon bread and drinking entire pots of French pressed coffee. I am ironing napkins. I am watering houseplants. I am playing fetch with Mazy and hanging out down by the river with Rich. I am considering things.

It is the very essence of nothing.

I should flaunt my leisurely, unoccupied self by skipping around the neighborhood at ten o’clock in the morning. If it weren’t so cold, I’d prance around the block in my fluffy yellow slippers. Oh, yes I would.

What am I actually doing? Pretty much this: I have uncovered my inner housewife. And she is the bomb.

More on this to come on this fascinating revelation…and no, it won’t be two weeks this time.

Winter Citrus Salad with Toasted Almond Goat Cheese Rounds

HOME–Brrrr, it’s cold. So. Very. C-c-cold. We’re not used to shivering; we’re used to sunshine. Thank goodness today brought a little bit of both.

Because today, my aunt and uncle drove up from Florida hauling boxes of sunshine in the form of sweet, homegrown grapefruits, big-as-your-fist Meyer lemons, and juice-filled Florida oranges. These cannonballs of citrus sunshine will heat up the coldest kitchen and transport you back to the healthy eating days of summer. And after a month-long binge of sugary treats, healthy is exactly how our minds need to think.

This sunny salad is a textural symphony. The fennel and celery provide the bass crunch. The garam masala in the dressing will kick up a cancan on your tongue. And the citrus sings like a sultry siren from some exotic far-away island.

Plus, it’s pretty and cheerful. Which, reminds me:  I have been smiling for days now. In fact, I am smiling in my head before I even get out of bed in the morning. I now clearly recognize this as my old, normal state of mind! Very similar to putting on teeny tiny pound a week– you don’t realize you’re full blown fat until your belly is full on fighting your zippers and buttons for the heavy weight title. Depression, much like fat cells, is insidious.

I am declaring myself officially cured. Whew, right?

Winter Citrus Salad with Toasted Almond Goat Cheese Rounds

Serves 2 to 4 persons
Goat Cheese, 2 1″ rounds per person, sliced from cheese log
Sliced Almonds, 1 T per goat cheese round
1/2 bulb of Fennel, shaved thin
2 stalks of Celery, sliced thin
2 Grapefruits, sectioned
2 Oranges, sectioned
Baby Lettuce Greens, 1 large handful per person
Fennel fronds (garnish)
Cilantro leaves (garnish)
Dried Black Olives (optional)
—-
Marinade/Dressing
Juice of 1/2 Orange + 1/2 Meyer Lemon ( or enough citrus juice to equal 1/2 cup)
2 T Honey
1/4 cup light salad oil such as Safflower
1/4 t Garam Masala
Kosher Salt (2 generous pinches) and Freshly Ground Pepper to taste

Freezing temps haven't stopped our lettuce crop, yet.

First, assemble goat cheese rounds by rolling in sliced almonds. Place in refrigerator while mixing the dressing and assembling the remaining salad. If you intend to thoroughly warm/melt cheese, then refrigerate for at least one hour.
Combine Dressing ingredients in a covered glass jar. Shake vigorously. Optionally, the marinade can be heated. Marinate fennel, citrus segments, and celery in dressing. Gently wash and dry greens and place in bowls. Spoon generous helpings of marinated citrus, etc. onto lettuce greens. Heat cheese rounds until almonds brown and cheese is melting. Place atop greens. Top with snipped fennel fronds and cilantro. Serve immediately.

Open Mouth, Insert Smile : ) + Somber Reflections on a Remarkable Year

WARNING– This post is not a pick-me-up, warm and fuzzy, let’s-start-the-year-off-soaring kind of post. Rather, it’s the antithesis of the typical Paper Apron post– a real downer, and quite possibly TMI. So, if you stop reading now, you just may go on about your day, as happy-go-lucky as you were when you started reading this fair warning. No worries. And please, do check back in a few days, when all is back to normal in Paperapronland.

I’ve been on hiatus. Sure, I’ve been crazy-busy over the holidays, (just like you) meeting up with old friends, hosting family gatherings, shopping, wrapping presents, baking biscotti, popping handfuls of rum balls and rearing our new puppy (with whom, I am completely smitten, BTW).

However, I haven’t posted lately, for another reason:  Zero desire. {yikes!} But, it’s not like it sounds! I can explain…

You see, I haven’t recently desired much of anything, except a long winter’s nap on the couch.

This little tale starts a few months ago:

Just before Halloween, I notice that my body is gearing down and my heart is overwhelmed with sadness. I am having surges of unwelcome, unreasonable, unrelenting unhappiness, served with a too generous portion of fatigue. Although it’s alarming, I am pretty sure it’s an anomaly. Depression is somewhat of a foreign concept to me; I am a happy, smiling, positively upbeat kid. I may not be young, but I’m very young-at-heart.

I quietly (okay, perhaps not so quietly, Rebeca) blame the whole emotional lapse on my latest contract, which, as you may remember, has landed me once again, inside a gray cubicle, on a gray floor, which is slid like a cafeteria tray into a hermetically sealed larger gray box of a building, humming with piped-in white noise, and the glaring florescence of unreal, artificial daylight. I mean, seriously, that could depress anyone, right?

Turns out, it wasn’t my cubicle’s fault.

When November arrived, in a desperate attempt to snap out of it, I did the NaBloPoMo, 30 Posts in 30 Days thingy, stretching myself thin in an effort to ward off the happiness thieves trying to break in through my head and duct tape my heart.

Alas. All of November’s daily posting mania couldn’t pull me out of my slumbering dirge. I was in trouble. Rich heard it loud and clear. This isn’t like me. Something is wrong with me. I’m not like this, am I?

Woooohhooooo. My first depression!!! It zings with all of the merriment of getting your first period, your first college loan due date, your first gray hair, your first wrinkle…. Oh help me, oh help me, oh help me, oh help me.

And although I’d never had one, (as if depression is a singular entity that arrives in a mini casket, draped with a black bow) my family, and extended family, is no stranger to depression.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve urged loved ones to just get out and go take a walk. As if they could shrug the depression off, if they would only make an effort.

Now I get it. You can’t wish depression away. And you can’t kiss it away. All the puppy kisses in the world didn’t cure me.

And so, we fast forward the story to a doctor’s visit and a test result of hypothyroidism. {Insert quick prayer of thanks for modern medicine here.} It seems that somewhere in the past few months, I’d signed up for a new club. Indeed, a wildly popular club of lifers.

And sure, I watch Oprah. And no, I didn’t take notes on the hypothyroid episode. I just thought, oh you know…that will never affect moi. This thought actually occurred, even though my father had thyroid cancer, which was as frightening as it reads. Did you have this it’ll never happen to me thought, too, or are you one of the many members signed up for the hypothyroidism-for-life club?

Anyway, all is getting better. I had a pretty normal day today. No sleeping all day. Not a whiff of sadness. Perhaps my little white pills are starting to work. After all, I actually found myself wanting to post tonight! Yes, Paper Apron, there is a Santa Claus!

{gush} I missed you guys!!!!

Topic #2: Somber Reflections on a Remarkable Year

When I wrote the title, “Somber…” this morning, well, I was somber. But, tonight, I’m feeling pretty good and I’m thrilled to report that I was able to underline the vast majority of my 2009 goals this year (see chalkboards). I didn’t make a mole sauce, but I was triumphant with my soufflé! And although I never made it to Brussels, I did get to live in Paris and pretend like I was a Parisian over the summer. That was my absolute highlight. My puppy, Mazy, may be highlight number two. And “Get a Dog” was on last year’s list, so I’m doing something right with this continued list of dreams.

I’ve erased my boards and will be collecting my dreams and wishes for my 2010 chalkboards. I usually give myself a few weeks in January to ramp up my top sixty or so wishes and goals. Depression blip aside, economic slip aside, I am visualizing another truly wonderful year. I hope you are, too. Any ideas you want to share?

Puppy Love

HOME– This is Miss Mazy Grace, my Christmas present. It was puppy love at first sight. Now you see why I had to draw her in this issue’s masthead. What a baby doll!

Divinity, My Forbidden Confection -or- How to Torture Children with Holiday Candy

HOME– Divinity was the forbidden confection of my childhood. It taunted me through the holidays. It would be made in secret batches (Aunt Donna was the usual suspect responsible for the most delectable morsels) and kept under tight security in special Tupperware containers, passed around furtively to card-carrying, Adults Only.

Children were never offered divinity. And if we begged, we got one piece per batch, never more; it was out of the question.

I always assumed this was because divinity was made from expensive ingredients that underwent a laborious candy-coating process of the utmost delicacy and focused intensity. One piece took hours to create– a tiny frosted treasure to behold in your cupped hands. It glowed like a glossy white nougat. It smelled like ice cream. It tasted très taboo.

But, Nah. Divinity is actually quite easy to make. And the most expensive ingredient is the tablespoon of good vanilla. You see, I know this because I crossed that knowing threshold today. I made my first batch of divinity and it was easy. Easy as PIE. And kids can have piece of pie. Pie is hardly elusive or unattainable.

Discovery: Divinity is nothing more than pure, unadulterated sugar melted with pure, adulterated corn syrup, which is whirred together into liquid candy, then whipped into a buttery, frothy, peaked frenzy.

Aha moment:  Children should be kept very, very far away from these intense sugary blobs of carbohydrate finery or they will quickly ruin a perfectly calm evening.

There are no kids here tonight for me to torture with my Adults Only divinity. So, I will eat all of the divinity I want, bounce around like a madwoman for fifteen minutes, and go to bed early with a mysterious tummy ache. Ah, the joys of adulthood.

Divinity

4 cups Granulated Sugar

1 cup Corn Syrup

3/4 cup Water

3 Egg Whites (at room temperature)

1 T good quality Vanilla

2 cups chopped Pecans

Melt sugar, corn syrup and water together in a large, heavy bottomed pan. After the sugar melts, stop stirring, but continue to heat until a candy thermometer shows 260* degrees. While the sugar is heating, whip egg whites in a mixer until peaks are stiff. When sugar reaches the hard ball candy stage, slowly pour into egg whites. Add vanilla. Whip/beat at high speed while pouring liquids. In 10-15 minutes, the mixture will be sufficiently thickened. Stir in chopped pecans. Drop by spoonfuls onto parchment/wax paper. Allow to cool completely.

Note: You’ll want to make divinity when the humidity is low. When forming your nougats, add drops of hot water to the mixture if it thickens.

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