Step Ten: Family Traditions, DIY Gifts for When Your Finances Suck

My family is weird.

Now, I know we all think that of our families. We have these quirks that set every single family across the world apart, whether it's a tradition for Christmas that makes you roll your eyes and sigh when you're a teenager, or a weekly ritual featuring awful dance moves from your Dad, or a crazy Uncle story at every reunion. In my family, we sing. Not just Christmas carols, but showtunes in the summertime. We have a beautiful arrangement of prayers that my Dad set to music (three part harmony no less) that we sing before meals when we're together as a whole family. We have an UNO tournament every year. In my immediate family, we cut down our own tree each Christmas, and eat Cracker Barrel on the way home. We watch both the Patrick Stewart and the George C. Scott versions of A Christmas Carol. J. and I watch every Christmas episode of our favorite television shows over the course of the season. My mom collects nativities, and sets aside all of the little Baby Jesus-es and on Christmas morning, we put them back in thei respective mangers.

But I think the tradition which most sets apart my family from others is our Thanksgiving candy-making. My Mom has this to say on the subject: In 1932, Carolyn Morgan Guion attempted to make chocolate candies. She was less than impressed with the results. The chocolates were all gray and not really very tasty. Determined to figure it out, Carrie responded to an ad for a chocolate dipper so that she could learn how to do it properly. She told the owner of the Nut House (aptly named), that she didn't have any experience, but that she was a fast learner. This turned out to be very true! Not long after this, Carrie and her husband, Roy, and their eight year old son Robert, began to make great quantities of candy to sell to earn some extra money during the Great Depression. After the depression ended, Carrie and Roy (and most definitely Robert) swore off selling candy, and began to make it only to give away as gifts. Robert grew up and married Emily in 1947. In about 1958 they decided to start making candy, too (though the beginning was pretty rough!). Robert and Emily's five kids, including their youngest Judy, and her husband Eric and their children, Wesley (12), Emily (19) and Heather and her partner, J., have continued and built upon the traditions, so that we are now "Four Generations in Chocolate."

What this means for us as a family is that each Thanksgiving, much of the Guion Family packs into my Grandparent's house, and spends the week making what this year was 200+ pounds of homemade, hand dipped chocolates. If you combine our total with that of the two family units unable to make it for Thanksgiving, it would top 300 pounds. We make over 20 varieties of fudges, caramels, cremes, truffles, and toffees to share with our coworkers, friends, and in-laws.

You know how everyone talks about Black Friday? I can honestly say that I've never even so much as been out of the house on Black Friday, I spend it up to my elbows in melted chocolate. And I wouldn't have it any other way. And so today, I'm going to share with you one of our recipes, complete with dipping tutorial. If you, like me and so many other twenty-somethings, are strapped for cash this holiday season, this makes a lovely, heartfelt, personal gift.


Chocolate Fudge
2.5 Pound Batch


Equipment needed:
A good candy thermometer
A heavy bottomed saucepan
Something on which to work the fudge, preferably a marble slab (if dipping)
If using marble slab, something with which to contain the fudge before working (see pictures below)
A cookie sheet
Wax Paper


Ingredients
2 Pounds Sugar
5 Tablespoons Cocoa
5 Tablespoons Karo
3/4 Cups Milk (Do not use cream)
1/4 Pound Butter (plus a little)
1/2 Teaspoon Sucrovert (If dipping the candy)
2 Teaspoons Vanilla Extract


Stir all ingredients except butter together until well mixed, continue stirring until mixture begins to boil. STOP STIRRING. DO NOT TOUCH THAT SPOON TO THAT MIXTURE, NO SIR, DON'T DO IT. If  you do, it will get grainy, and no one wants to eat grainy fudge. Cook until the mixture hits 238 degrees. 

Pour onto marble slab spread with the 1/4 pound (plus a little) of butter, or pour into a shallow pan. 

Let it cool a bit, and add sucrovert (for dipped candy) and vanilla. Work it with a spatula (if on marble slab) or begin to beat it with a wooden spoon (if in shallow pan) until it stiffens, and begins to lose its gloss. At this time, it can be spread into a pan to be given away if you are not dipping it. If you are dipping it, roll it into bite sized pieces and place the balls on a tray covered with wax paper. 

Notes: 
Sucrovert is the ingredient which turns sugar from a solid into a liquid, making for beautifully creamy candy once dipped. It takes a few days to kick in, and doesn't affect the flavor of the fudge at all. 


Having an accurate candy thermometer is key. This year, in the Guion Clan Candy Kitchen, our thermometer went a little crazy, and in the course of one day went from being one degree off, to ten degrees off. This does not make fudge. This, if it is showing to be ten degrees higher than the actual temperature, makes ice cream topping. If it is claiming to be ten degrees lower than the actual temperature of the mixture, makes some odd not-quite-fudge-not-quite-taffy mixture which we have determined to be "Faffy" and is not entirely edible, and certainly not worth dipping. Please see illustrations below.

Dipping Tutorial


There is no singular way to dip chocolates. Over time, each dipper in my family has established their own methods, their own ways of picking up the candy, covering it in chocolate, putting it down. We use different fingers to make the signs on top, place the completed candy in different places on the wax-covered sheets, and even make nests in our chocolate in a multitude of ways. So what I will outline below is just my method, you'll have to establish your own over time!


First, and this may sound weird, make sure the room in which you are dipping is no warmer than 70 degrees, and preferably no cooler than 65. The chocolate starts acting weird if you go outside of those parameters. Butter a cookie sheet, and have a tray with wax paper ready on which to place the completed candy. Ladle melted chocolate onto the sheet, and work the chocolate with your primary hand until it has cooled, not so much that it is beginning to harden, but enough that it doesn't feel warm to the touch any more. This is done in order to ensure that the chocolate doesn't speckle or bloom, because while it doesn't taste any different, grey, streaky chocolate doesn't look terribly appetizing. If you're not sure, streak the wax paper with a swipe of plain chocolate and see if it cools without turning any strange colors. 


When it is cooled, pick up a piece undipped fudge with the non-chocolate-working hand. Place it in the chocolate, and pick it up in your chocolate hand and roll it around in your fingers, making sure it is coated all the way around. Set it gently down on the wax paper sheet, taking care to keep extra chocolate in your hand and not on the piece, and if you are making a sign on top, do so. If not, try to take the excess chocolate and swing it around the piece so there are no globs, and it's as smooth as possible. 

If this is your first time dipping, it may not go perfectly. It may not even go well. The chocolate may leak, it may speckle, it may look absolutely weird. Keep at it! It takes a long time to perfect, and even in our family where we begin dipping from practically birth we have days where the chocolate just doesn't do what we want it to do. 


Allow to cool and harden. Consume and enjoy. 

Step Nine: Car repairs, Quick cheap meals, Quick impressive meals

There comes a point in many a twenty-something's life when he or she realizes that cars suck.

When we were 14 and just approaching the point of driving we imagined the freedom, the ability to go anywhere and to do anything. When we first got our licenses, and perhaps drove a vehicle belonging to someone else, therefore sharing costs, a sense of adulthood began to settle over us. While in college, cars may have represented long, late night adventures with friends, and shoving too many people in without seatbelts.

And then we moved away from home. Bought our own cars, paid for our own gas, had to keep up with oil changes sans reminders from a parent... and eventually, yes for all of us, eventually we had to deal with a breakdown. A tow. A replacement part. An expensive repair. Always, always at the worst possible moment. Never during an off week, or a time we can call in sick, always during our busiest moment.

It's like they know.

This past week was just that moment in the Pseudoadulthood home. J. was in the midst of production week and weekend, and his car decided it no longer wanted to start. A jump didn't work, switching out the battery with mine didn't work (and now mine makes a beeping noise when I turn it off...) and hitting the starter with tiny hammers (which is apparently a thing?) didn't work. After a week of driving J. into work in the morning, we were finally able to find enough time in our schedules to get his car towed, due at least in part to the kindness of his coworkers, generous enough to let us use their AAA, and it is now back, and working, parked snugly in our driveway.

Between paychecks and right as bills are due, of course.

During this debacle, we ate a lot of meals at the school, but as our bodies are not accustomed to eating at 5:30 in the afternoon, and are instead used to our ridiculous schedule of eating at around 8:00, we often resorted to second dinners. Because we're hobbits, apparently. And also, incidentally, is part of the reason I'm convinced I'll never get a decent picture of my cooking, as there is no daylight at 8:00 at night. Or even at 5:30, this time of year.

My absolute favorite, freakishly simple four ingredient pasta sauce is a lifesaver. Not only does it come together quickly, but it's amazingly delicious, meaty without any meat in the sauce, hearty but not overwhelming, and perfect paired with pasta or chicken or ravioli, our food of choice this week. We even used it as pizza sauce one night, and it worked just perfectly.

Four Ingredient Pasta Sauce
Slightly adapted from Smitten Kitchen

One large (28 ounce) can of crushed tomatoes
One onion, halved
5 tablespoons butter
2 cloves garlic, lightly smashed

Put all of the ingredients in a pot. Bring to a boil at medium heat, then turn heat to low. Simmer for 45 minutes. Eat with whatever sounds good.

If you're like me, and believe that onions are proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy, the onions, by the end of this process, are delicious on bread, or even just with a fork straight out of the pot. If, like J., you believe that onions are inedible (and don't ask me why, because I don't understand) they don't add any perceptible or strong "onion" taste to this sauce, and it's still delicious on it's own.


Sometimes, though, I crave foods that look nice. I, apparently, harbor a secret (or now not so secret) desire to cook like a chef, and to present food that is nice to look at, as well as to eat. More photogenic food. And as I used to joke that if I opened a restaurant it would have to be called "Uglifood" due to the fact that my meals seem to taste great, even while looking like slop on a plate. So when I saw this recipe, I knew I had to make an attempt.

It was a good choice.

No, I mean it. It was a really, really good choice. As in, go buy these ingredients and make this chicken right now. Or at your earliest possible convenience, at least.

This is delicious. The marinade turns into this sort of glazy sauce, making the potatoes have this buttery mouthfeel with no butter in the recipe. The lemon is light and adds this huge punch of flavor without being overpowering, the combination of lemon with the amazing floral notes of rosemary and the hint of garlic is probably the greatest combination ever. By tomorrow I'll probably think that an exaggeration, but right now I'm still wandering into the kitchen every few minutes to grab a forkfull of potato and shallot out of the pan, and the taste is divine, and I can't imagine anything being better in the entire world. Except maybe the mushrooms, which melt in your mouth and take on a whole new dimension due to the aforementioned glaze-sauce-thing.

I did say to go get the ingredients now, right?

Rosemary Skillet Chicken
Lightly adapted from Minimally Invasive

3/4 pound small red-skinned potatoes, halved, or quartered if large

Kosher Salt
2 sprigs fresh rosemary, plus 1 1/2 tablespoons leaves
2 cloves garlic, smashed
Pinch of red pepper flakes
Juice of 2 lemons (squeezed halves reserved)
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 skin-on, bone-in chicken breasts 

10 ounces mushrooms, halved

One shallot, quartered

 

Preheat the oven to 450. Cover the potatoes with cold water in a saucepan and salt the water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat and cook until tender, about 8 minutes; drain and set aside.

Pile the rosemary leaves, garlic, 2 teaspoons salt and the red pepper flakes on a cutting board, then mince and mash into a paste using a large knife. I have no decent knives, so instead I did my best, and then ran the whole thing through a food processor. A mortar and pestle would probably also do the trick. Transfer the paste to a bowl. Stir in the juice of 1 lemon and the olive oil. Add the chicken and turn to coat.

Heat a large cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken, skin-side down, cover and cook until the skin browns, about 5 minutes. Remove chicken from pan; add the mushrooms, shallot, and potatoes to the skillet, place chicken on top, and drizzle with any marinade remaining in the bowl and the juice of the remaining lemon. I have a not terribly well seasoned skillet (it's making it's way back, I swear) and worried briefly about potatoes sticking, which I hate. It did not happen, so no worries folks, go ahead and just put them in.

Add the rosemary sprigs and the squeezed lemon halves to the skillet; transfer to the oven and roast, uncovered, until the chicken is cooked through and the skin is crisp, 20 to 25 minutes, or longer if the pieces are absolutely gigantic, as ours were tonight. 

This would probably work equally well with boneless skinless (and I intend to do that next time we have this meal) with a few adjustments. I would go ahead and marinade the chicken in the garlic/rosemary/red pepper/olive oil/lemon juice mixture for 15-20 minutes, brown only very briefly, and check the roasting after 15 minutes, depending on the size of the pieces.

My kitchen smells like rosemary and lemon, and it is glorious.

Step Eight: Cheap Dates and Comforting Desserts

J. and I have gotten the point in our relationship where date night typically consists of ordering in pizza or Chinese food, sitting on the sofa, drinking wine, and catching up on our Netflix instant cue. Romantic though this may be, every once and a great while we desire to do something that actually resembles a date. A real, live, leave the house wearing something nicer than sweatshirts, go somewhere where there are actually people, eat at something other than our coffee table in the living room date.

That being said, our budgets are understandably tight considering the recent travel, the setting up of our household, and the fact that I just started getting paychecks a few weeks ago. Dates, then, are either things we save for (like going to the Renaissance Festival) or need to be something inexpensive. In the last two weeks we've been fortunate enough to go on both kinds.

Our inexpensive date consisted of picking apples at a you-pick place nearby, and I have to say, this is one of my favorite things about fall. For $15, we picked a huge bag of apples in all sorts of varieties, some of which will become pies, some applesauce, some muffins and scones and cookies, and some will just get eaten, straight out of the bag, all crisp and sweet and tart and delicious. We also picked up a gallon of apple cider, which is always better from the local places. When I got home, I immediately poured it into my biggest stock pot and simmered it for an hour with my favorite blend of mulling spices. If you're going to make it a true cheap date, however, remembering the camera is probably a good idea. We didn't, and so you get to see the spoils, but not the picking itself.

Our other date was one we'd been anxiously anticipating since we moved to Rhode Island.

I've been going to the Ohio Renaissance Festival with my family for over a decade. To me, it is not fall unless I've consumed a turkey leg, watched the swordsmen, avoided dirt at the mudde show, and shopped the day away surrounded by friends and family, and so when we moved out East, it was my mission to find an acceptable substitute. The King Richard's Faire is the closest alternative, and so yesterday we set out for our grand date. While it was an enjoyable day, and certainly worth it this time, the decision has been made that next year, we will be trekking back to Ohio for a weekend in the fall, because it didn't measure up to the standard by which I hold all RenFests, our lovely site in little Harveysburg Ohio.

Ohioans, take advantage of what you have, for it is great.

That being said, the jousting tournament was wicked fun.

We made it through the faire in record time, and decided to head up to Plymouth while we were in the area. After a walk along the coast, we checked out Plymouth Rock, took a few pictures of the Mayflower II, bought saltwater taffy, and had dinner at a cute little Italian place.

It was a memorable date day, and an excellent way to spend a Sunday.

I have to admit, I think my very favorite thing about living in New England is the proximity to all of these touristy spots and great cities and towns. In just a quick (relatively) drive we can be in Cape Cod or Salem or Hartford or anywhere in between, and all of the history of the beginnings of our country is brought to life as we visit the landmarks where it all took place.

You should come and visit. We'll make it worth your while.

In the midst of all of this excitement, however, has been challenge. Trying to balance job(s) and home and personal time has been difficult, and I'm still getting used to everything out here, and I constantly feel that I'm falling behind. Worse, my grandfather fell and broke his hip, and not being able to just drive home to be there has been agonizing.

And so with that, I've sought comforting desserts. And while cakes, pies, and cookies are incredible ways to brighten a day, they take time and energy to bake. The simplest, most delicious, hearty, comforting dessert I could think of was rice pudding. This particular recipe is made with ingredients I almost always have on hand, and comes together with very little work, partially because you can use leftover rice. The night I made this, I just made a little more rice than needed for our dinner of fajitas. It's also easily made vegan, and would be incredible with almond milk. While it's great on its own, I will say it needs berries, something tart and bright to balance out the almost overly sweet pudding, and the almonds add a nice bit of texture.

Coconut Rice Pudding
From America's Test Kitchen: Cooking for Two

Any type of milk, or even half-and-half, will work in this recipe.

1 Cup Water
1/2 cup rice
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 cup unsweetened coconut milk
1 1/2 cups milk
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Bring the water to a boil in a small saucepan. Sit in the rice and salt, cover, and simmer over low heat, stirring occasionally, until the water is almost fully absorbed, 10-15 minutes.

Stir in the coconut milk, milk, sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon and continue to simmer, stirring frequently, until a spoon is able to stand up in the pudding, 45 to 55 minutes. Serve warm or chilled, with berries and toasted almonds, or extra coconut.

Step Seven: So many Weddings, so much Stroganoff.

There comes a time in many a 20-something's life when he or she realizes that an absurdly high number of his or her friends are getting married/engaged/having children. J and I recently added up the number of these friends and came up with no less than 35 couples we are acquainted with who have either gotten married in the last six months, or are getting married in the next year or so. And the number simply keeps rising.

You would think, then, that weddings would somehow lose their sparkle. That at a certain point we'd simply lose interest, stop being excited, groan when we receive "Save the Date" cards or roll our eyes when Facebook alerts us of another engagement. Perhaps we will, but that point has not yet arrived. Although the number of friends and acquaintances tying the knot is approaching astronomical numbers, it doesn't take much to make me squeal with glee when a friend calls with the happy news. I cannot speak for J., but I still get weepy during the vows, happily accept Bridesmaidsdom, and thoroughly enjoy wedding cake. And I still feel sad when we are unable to attend.

This weekend was the wedding of two of our very good friends, one of whom was my roommate in college (and always my roommate in my heart). It was one of the most beautiful ceremonies in which I have had the honor and privilege to take part. The bride was glowing, the groom clearly ecstatic, the wedding party supportive and thrilled to be there. As with any wedding there were mishaps and challenges -- a missing wedding ring, uncooperative (and cold!) weather, miscommunication resulting in friends being locked out of homes in the rain -- but at the end of the day, as the bride reminded all of us, none of it mattered because they walked away from the ceremony as husband and wife, as partners, and married.

We miss our friends in the midwest so very, very much. It was an amazing opportunity to see everyone, and honest to goodness, I will never, ever forget this wedding. AND I got to spend time with two of the most wonderful women I have ever met, my ever-roomies and my best friends.

There's another friend getting married this weekend, another acquaintance the weekend after that, and still another close couple the first weekend in November. We will be unable to make any of these weddings, and for that we grieve, knowing that we will be missing out on the ceremony that begins something magical and wonderful and challenging and hopeful and incredible and everything else you know a marriage will be.

When I got home, I craved foods that were my mother's specialties. She was the officiant at the wedding, and so while I had gotten to spend time with her, I had been unable to go and snatch food straight from the pan in our kitchen at home. Beef stroganoff is one of those foods that I begin to crave the minute it starts smelling like fall outside, and since it was 50 degrees when I left Ohio, I decided we could pull out the trusty crock pot and make a batch.

This particular recipe is excellent for many reasons. First, I'm gravitating toward crock pot meals at the moment due to a busy work schedule. It's great to be able to put something in while I'm home in the early afternoon and come home to dinner after a particularly exhausting Kindergarten class, without needing to come up with the energy to create something just then. Second, the flavors in this dish are incredible. Egg noodles give the dish a beautiful base, something heartier and homier than regular pasta. The sour cream makes the dish smooth and rich and a little tangy, with beef so tender it falls apart on your fork, perfectly cooked mushrooms, and an incredible depth from the red wine. Third, the measurements are all fairly loose and are really suggestions. This is a Mom recipe, so she was remembering approximately what she usually puts in, and it's easy to increase ingredients you love, decrease the ones you don't, and add whatever comes to mind. Fourth, the leftovers reheat really well. Finally, it comes together quickly and easily, and is (thank goodness) a one pot meal.

1 lb Top Steak
1 Onion
2 Large Cloves of Garlic
1 Tablespoon Worcestershire Sauce
1 1/2 Cups Beef Broth
1 Tablespoon Ketchup
2 Tablespoons Dry Wine
1/4 lb Mushrooms
1/4 Cup Flour
Water
Sour Cream (to taste -- I usually put in about 3/4 cup to start and then taste to see if it's enough)
Egg Noodles

Cut one pound of top steak into chunks. Salt and pepper the pieces. Add one onion, diced. Mix the minced garlic, Worcestershire sauce, beef broth, and ketchup. Pour over meat and onions. Add wine and mushrooms. Cook on low heat for 6-8 hours. Turn off crock pot. Mix 1/4 cup of flour with some water, stir into mixture a bit at a time, continue stirring until thick. I didn't need the full amount in order for this to thicken to the desired consistency. Add sour cream to taste. Serve over egg noodles.

See how easy that one is?

I'm going to go grab a bowl of leftovers right now...

Step Six: Busy Work, and First Baking

My first post-college job has officially begun. It has been quite a transition, going from running my own program to learning all of the rules and procedures in a new one, not to mention the theatre games and warm-ups in the children's theatre community in Rhode Island. I'm enjoying being back in the classroom, I feel most comfortable and at home when creating performances with students. I'm currently directing one full production with 2nd through 5th graders, and one book adaptation with Kindergarteners and 1st graders. It's been a long time since I've worked consistently with the latter age group, I feel as though I'm stretching a muscle I've not used in years, and it is exhausting. I'm certain I'll settle into the routine and rhythm of teaching that class soon, and with both classes, and with work in the office in general, I'm learning a lot.

I'm also developing two adaptations of my favorite children's book, Old Turtle and the Broken Truth. One of them will be for the Stage Sprouts program (the aforementioned K/1st grade class) which will be mostly reading the book as narration, with the students doing some of the lines and using puppets. The other, however, I'm working on developing as a movement based theatrical piece for young adults as theatre for youth. My biggest goal with the project is to somehow translate the incredible beauty of Jon J. Muth's illustrations into the piece.

If you don't own this book, get one. It's really the most beautiful children's book in the entire world.


There really aren't very many other "life" updates. It's been a lot of getting settled into work, and being lazy at home. I do, however, have for you my favorite banana bread recipe.



Banana bread is the first thing I can remember baking as a child, and I've baked a lot of it. I remember walking up to my Mom the first time I made it and asking what "soda" was (because it was a Mom recipe and she didn't need to put "baking" in front of it). And I remember submitting a banana bread recipe to a church cookbook and I think writing that it needed to be baked at 100 degrees because I was very young and that sounded like a lot. Banana bread came to friends houses, church and school bake sales, and family gatherings.

Bananas had a tendency to rather often go to mush in our house growing up, but this was never a problem. As a matter of fact, I've often wondered if we intentionally ignored them in favor of the prospect of this bread. This is a heavy bread, and I wouldn't have it any other way. It's dense, chewy, and full of banana flavor just the way it should be. I sometimes add some cinnamon to the recipe, or to sprinkle on top, but truly it doesn't need it. It just needs to be eaten warm, straight from the oven (because of the aforementioned impatience) with a good sized schmear of cream cheese. Were I in my parent's house, this loaf wouldn't have lasted the day, but because J. doesn't eat anything banana, I guess there's more for me.


I won't tell you how many slices I've had since yesterday. Or about how it came out of the oven as I was running out of the house because I was late for work because I never time things well never ever. And how I still stopped to chop of a very substantial slice and quickly slather on some cream cheese.

I still got to the classroom before my students did, it turned out okay.

And it was delicious.

JudyMom's Banana Bread


3 very ripe bananas
¾ cup sugar
pinch of salt
1 egg
¼ cup butter, melted
1 tsp baking soda
1 tbsp water
2 cups of flour

Mash bananas with a fork or pastry blender. Blend in sugar, salt, and beaten egg. Add melted butter. Dissolve baking soda in water and add with sifted flour. Mix, but do not overstir. Bake in a loaf pan for 45 minutes (to an hour -- mine always seems to take longer than expected) in a 350 degree oven.


Easy, comforting, and delicious. Tastes like home.

Step Five: Mall Pretzels, Employment, and Allergies

I am, generally speaking, excellent at avoiding the "cheap, unhealthy, pre-fab" food that you find at the average American mall. I can walk quickly past Chinese food samples, bourbon chicken samples, Ben and Jerry's, and even the wafting sweet cinnamon-y deliciousness that is Cinnabon. I can ignore the call of Haagen Dazs, resist the urge to drink a lemonade the size of my head, and put my fingers in my ears and whistle as I walk past an Orange Julius.

What I cannot resist, however, are mall pretzels. This is exacerbated by J's love of the same. The crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside, salty and sweet and covered in a glaze of fatty delicious butter dripping on fingers while sogging the wrapper twists of bread are from heaven. There is no resisting, and almost every time I set foot into a mall I wonder when I'll run into the pretzel stand, and if I have enough change to grab two.

So when I stumbled upon a recipe promising the deliciousness of mall pretzels at home, I jumped on it. These did not disappoint -- they're remarkably easy to make, worth the wait for them to rise, and hold up to the standard against which I hold all soft pretzels these days, they're at least as good as the ones in the mall if not better. I made ten pretzels, and nine were gone in the next hour. I won't tell you how many I ate.

Tutorial on twisting pretzels:

Divide the dough evenly. The original recipe divided into 6 parts, I divided into 10. In retrospect, 6 would probably have made slightly thicker, puffier pretzels, which would also have been nice.

Roll your dough into one long, even rope.

Make a U shape with your dough

Fold the ends over one another

Twist once

Pinch ends in with curve of dough, turn upside down

Mall Pretzels:

¾ cup warm water
1 ¼ tsp of active dry yeast
1 tbsp brown sugar
½ tsp salt
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup warm water
2 tbsp baking soda (for soaking)
½ tbsp butter, melted
coarse kosher salt

Pour ¾ cup warm water into bowl of a stand mixer, or into a mixing bowl. Dissolve yeast, brown sugar, and salt into the water. Add in flour, mix on medium speed until dough comes away from sides of the bowl and is smooth. If kneading by hand, when ingredients come together, dump onto a floured surface and knead dough about 8 minutes, until smooth. Pour a few drops of olive oil into mixing bowl; place dough in and turn to coat surface. Cover and let rise for 1 hour.

When dough is ready, cut into 6 pieces. Roll each into ½ inch thick ropes. Shape pretzels by forming a U, then twisting ends and flipping over, gently pressing dough to seal. Let rise 15 minutes.

Fill a bowl with 1 cup warm water. Add baking soda and stir to dissolve. Soak each pretzel for 30 seconds, flipping over halfway through if not fully submerged. Place on parchment-lined baking sheet. Brush with melted butter and sprinkle coarse salt over top. (If you prefer sweet pretzels, use cinnamon sugar instead of salt. I would have done this, but we were out of cinnamon. I guess I'll have to make them again. Darn.) Bake at 450°F for 10-15 minutes, until golden brown. For an extra buttery flavor, brush on a little more melted butter when the pretzels come out of the oven. And seriously, why would you not?

In personal updates, I have at last found employment in our fine city of Providence. I will be a teaching artist for the Traveling Theatre through the Center for Dynamic Learning. It's looking to be an exciting opportunity, I'll have the chance to work with students as well as to do some development in terms of program and curriculum, I'll be able to do some grant work, and most importantly I'll be able to find a community of fellow theatre educators here in Rhode Island. One of the first things I've noticed thus far is that, where in Ohio I had separate contacts in Toledo, Columbus, and Cleveland, here the entire state is a connected theatre network. J has coworkers connected to the Trinity Repertory Theatre, the Rhode Island Youth Theatre, the Traveling Theatre, and so many more -- those three are just the ones I happen to have contacted in the few short weeks we've been here. I interviewed with women who were friends with, and colleagues to folks at J's school, and with artistic educators all across the state. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, you can drive from the Northernmost point of Rhode Island to the Southernmost in about an Hour and 15 minutes. It has come to our attention that Rhode Islander's hate long drives, most everything one could need on a regular basis is less than 15 minutes away, and so when I've told employers that I'm more than willing to drive 40 minutes for work they've all been surprised, even more so when I've told them that's been my commute to and from Scott for the last several years. In addition to my work at the Traveling Theatre, I have a meeting this week with the Artistic Director of the Rhode Island Youth Theatre, which may lead to additional employment, something which is vital considering the fact that my job with the Traveling Theatre, while incredibly desirable in many areas, pays about what you'd expect (or less) from an Americorps position, with a comparable amount of work and dedication required.

Regardless of financial woes, J and I are excited to be settling in and beginning work. He begins teaching on Wednesday, and has been working hard on developing curriculum, syllabus's, lesson plans, and stimulating projects for his students. Our semester at the Traveling Theatre centers around The Things They Carried, so I've been reading up, and mentally preparing myself for a new beginning in a new company.

The only downside to living in Rhode Island thus far? Other than the extreme distance to all of our friends and family, which is a given, I appear to be allergic. No kidding -- all the allergy symptoms that were mere background in Ohio, with only occasional flare-ups, seem to have reduced me to a sneezy, coughy, itchy, gross mess here. Popsicles seem to be helping, so I'll be stocking up on those while I wait to see an allergist.

I know, Popsicles. Man, I've got it rough.

Keep an eye out, I've got killer recipes for a lower-fat version of Vodka Cream sauce and a great crock-pot recipe for Beer Pork Chops with gravy.

Step Four: Comfort Food

Food Network is a problem.

For the past year, I have been living without cable, and for the two years before that, I was hardly home enough to watch anything at all, much less several hours of Food TV per day. Unfortunately, with unemployment comes mind numbing boredom, that I have chosen to fill with cooking shows and baking. This channel seems to have an abundance of comfort food -- Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives frequently features barbeque and Southern cooking, Paula Deen buries everything tablespoons deep in lard and butter, even "the Best Thing I Ever Ate" is constantly dripping with homestyle goodness.

In response, I've made biscuits. The kind with no shortening in them, and lots of butter. The kind that flake apart and taste delicious when smothered in, yes, I'll say it, more butter. And honey.

I'm such a Southern Belle. If by Southern Belle we mean a liberal feminist hippie who rarely shaves her legs and always votes Democrat.

I may not be the best Southern girl, but I will say these biscuits were generally a success. They were light and fluffy and flaky, with that slight crisp and crunch that gives the biscuit texture and weight. The secret in this case is the grated butter (which yes, I saw on Food Network). The reason biscuits, and pie crust for that matter, gets that amazing delicate flaky texture is that cold butter is not completely integrated into the batter, but is instead left in pieces throughout to leave pockets of airy, buttery goodness during the baking process.

(Lightly adapted from joyofbaking.com)

2 1/2 cups (325 grams) all-purpose flour

2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 tablespoon (14 grams) granulated white sugar (optional)

1/2 cup (113 grams) cold unsalted butter, frozen and grated

3/4 cup milk (180 ml) 

1 large egg, lightly beaten

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large mixing bowl, sift or mix together the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar. Add in the frozen, grated butter. To do this, I left a stick of butter in the freezer, and then ran it along my cheese grater. On top of giving you a great texture, this will be quicker than using a pastry blender or knives. Stir mixture together, taking care not to over mix. Add the milk and slightly beaten egg just to combine.

Place mixture on a lightly floured surface. Knead gently until the dough becomes smooth.

Roll or press dough until it is even throughout, and approximately half an inch thick. Cut out biscuits with slightly floured round cookie cutter. Or, if like me, you don't HAVE a cookie cutter, use a glass, or anything else you may have in your kitchen that is approximately the right size and is round. Like perhaps the lid to a small mason jar.

Place the biscuits on the prepared baking sheet and brush with butter. Bake for 10-15 minutes, brushing with butter again in the last few minutes of baking.

I never said this was healthy, did I?

Serve warm with butter and honey, or butter and jam. Or just butter. Again, not a healthy one, but a delicious one.

Not my finest photography, but my kitchen doesn't really get much light that time of evening, and also, sticky gooey honey deliciousness on flaky biscuits is meant to be eaten immediately. I believe I may have previously mentioned my lack of patience...

Today was an adventure day, but was also a bit of a failed adventure day. J and I recently discovered the wonder and majesty that is Ikea. This, like the Food Network, is a bit of a problem. We have come to the conclusion that all of our furniture is likely to come from there, and while we don't take issue with that, we do have to drive 45 minutes to get there, and if we're driving 45 minutes, we're not likely to walk in, get our item, and walk out. That would be cheating ourselves of the experience of it all. Well today, our beloved Ikea failed us. Our mission was to purchase the small white bookshelf that will hold all of my cherished cookbooks in order that I can have the shelf in the butcher block cart back for cooking utensils and cereal. It is beyond my imagining that Ikea could ever be out of something, in their zeppelin-sized warehouse, with shelves going up into the stratosphere, and their airplane propeller sized ceiling fans, and so we didn't think to call ahead. When we finally wandered down into the area intended for purchasing furniture, we looked up our item, walked over to row 1, bin 17, and found ourselves without the lovely, ridiculously cheap but sturdy white bookshelf that we needed.

Alas, we'll have to venture once again into the land of inexpensive-recent-college-graduate-do-it-yourself furniture. In the meantime, because it is apparently impossible to go to Ikea without buying at least something, we now have a new wine rack, and new potholders, as well as (finally) mousepads.

Tomorrow I have a second interview with the Traveling Theatre company. Think about me at 10 am.

Til next time,

Step Three: Hurricane Preparedness and Backlog Recipes

We're hunkering down in Rhode Island this weekend, as Irene threatens to bring damage and general mayhem.

Let me say this about the last week: If you're a student, stay in school. I don't just mean don't drop out, I mean stay in as long as possible. Pick up a second major. Get a masters degree. Stay for a doctorate. Maybe by the time you're done the economy will have recovered a tisch and you'll be able to find a job with your English/Theatre/Film Studies/Liberal Arts degrees. In the meantime, I'll be out here crossing my fingers and toes and eyes and whatever else you can cross in hopes that an opportunity will arise soon in the Non-Rhode-Island-Licensed educational theatre world that will allow me to live at least without concern for where rent and utilities payments are coming from, and will save me from asking the dreaded "Do you want fries with that?"

A few contacts have popped up. A friend of mine sent me a list of several theatres in the area and two of them resulted in interviews, one of which may be a way into several other contacts as well. Sometimes providence smiles. Heh.

In the meantime, we've been getting our home settled in. I finally finished the bedroom and we finished the living room and kitchen together. We only have one box left in the kitchen, and it's books, which we unfortunately don't have space for at the moment. We need at least two more bookshelves, if not three in order to comfortably fit all of our favorite friends and leave room for the growth that is sure to come. The Red Room, however, has become a source of great frustration as we literally cannot unpack it at the moment. It is dependent on the aforementioned bookshelves, as well as the shift from library/cat room/music room to office space, and so for the moment, it is the magical boxland in which all of our stuff seems to disappear. We're still missing a few things vital to the settling in process and while I know they're in there, I'm loath to spend any real time due to the daunting nature of that space.

It'll happen eventually.

I also had somehow missed the boat on craftgawker, which is where I've spent the last few days, bookmarking links into a few folder for crafts, gathering ideas on how to spruce up some bare walls, turn the multitude of extra mason jars we have lying around into something beautiful and useable, and how to spend my unemployed hours utilizing items already in the house, since I clearly can't spend any money. Current plans for book-based shelves, mason jar soap dispensers, and repurposed wine bottles will be posed as they come, and I would welcome any craft ideas you all might have!

For the moment, however, I've been baking. Still on the trend of "let's use what we already have in the house" but with some great results. Roasted chickpeas you can eat like potato chips, gooey delicious chocolate chip cookies, pasta with pecorino romano cheese and freshly ground black pepper, and unfortunately, a flop of peach scones.

Roasted chickpeas are a great, quick snack, perfect for putting out in a bowl at a party, or hunkering down for a weekend of hurricane Irene. Also, they're ridiculously easy to make.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Drain and rinse a can (or two) of chickpeas. Pour onto a baking sheet lined with paper towel and dry with another paper towel, taking care to remove skins as they come off. Which they will, as you wipe them dry.

Pour chickpeas into a bowl and coat with one to two tablespoons olive oil. Spread evenly across baking sheet (I lined mine with parchment because it's a bit messed up. Seriously, we need new bakeware!)

Toss it in the oven for 30-40 minutes. And when I say toss, I mean place. Don't want chickpeas lining the underside of your oven. Mine took on the higher end of the time frame to get super crunchy, which I determined by skewering one with a sharp knife, waiting for it to cool, and then eating to check for texture. And  by waiting for it to cool I mean sticking it in the freezer for I am impatient and despise waiting. I was met with chewy on my first one, so they went in for another 10 minutes.

When the little suckers are crispy, crunchy, and delicious, pour them into a bowl and toss with whatever spices you like. I used salt, cumin, a little granulated garlic, and curry powder, the last of which surprises no one who knows me as I have been known to put curry powder in my mac and cheese and am currently searching for a way to mix it into chocolate, I love it that much.

Eat, crunch, and be merry folks.

Unfortunately, in the midst of all of this delectable snacking, a flop sneaked in.

It should be mentioned that I love scones. I think they're the perfect breakfast, hearty without being heavy, perfect when savory and equally perfect when sweet, easy to make for any occasion, made to the taste of the creator, and just all around delightful. And so when my Mom and I talked about creating peach scones I was excited. I imagined a perfect balance of cinnamon, whole wheat, ricotta, peaches, and brown sugar. I imagined moist but still chewy and with a little heft. I imagined little pockets of peachy goodness and delicious flavor.

I did not, however, imagine whatever it was I made. Because scones they were not. I used the wrong peaches (white flesh peaches, while delicious, do not give enough flavor, as it turns out, regardless of the fact that they were local, organic, and a perfect stand-alone snack) and didn't balance my fruit to grain ratio in such a way that they were at all substantial.

Even if the peaches were delicious.

In other words, that recipe to come. As I re-do it. Completely. If you're hungry for the homey-goodness that is the perfect scone, however, head on over to Smitten Kitchen and check out her raspberry ricotta scone recipe, for it is divine. And easy. Seriously, what more could you want?

Keep us in your thoughts this weekend as we hunker down. We have our hurricane preparedness kit -- J. owns about two dozen flashlights, so we're good on batteries and light, we have candles, we have books, we have gallons of water, we have snacks that require neither refrigeration nor cooking, we have chocolate, we have granola bars, we have bananagrams, we have fruit and veggies, and we have hard cider and wine.

Yep. I said it. Our hurricane preparedness kit includes hard cider and a nice red wine.

See you on the other end of this folks. My computer turns off when the 45 mph winds start...