A change of breakfast pace.

You are tired, sick to death of cereal, sausage and biscuits, even your beloved yogurt and granola and fresh fruit. You don’t want to bake a dozen muffins, and all your muffin recipes are for a dozen (you really don’t want a half a dozen). You don’t want to go out to the local diner for breakfast, never mind they make a fine one, because you don’t want to have to get out of your PJs and brush your hair.

You want something different.

You want a Dutch baby.

It’s easy, even easier if you possess a blender and a countertop oven. It’s relatively quick; you’ve got breakfast in less than 30 minutes. It’s tasty. It can go sweet or savory, as you please. It’s different.

All the boxes appear to be checked.

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Like Mama used to make

February 10, 2018

Ready for the meringue topping. Skimpy custard and all.

At least as well as I can remember. Since Mama, God rest her soul, has been gone for almost 25 years, and I don’t remember when she first baked a banana pudding prior to that.

My mama could make a KILLER banana pudding. She’d make the boiled custard, layer the vanilla wafers, whack me with a wooden spoon when I’d snatch too many of them, slice up the bananas and layer those, and pour the custard over it all. Then she’d whip the egg whites with a little sugar, mound the meringue up in pretty little peaks on top of the pudding, and slide it in the oven for a few, just to brown it.

Simple — the essence of simplicity. So simple you forget about making it. Just really, really good, that comfort food, make-your-tummy-happy, cure-whatever-ails-you good. Will feed a crowd (this is a good pot-luck dessert).

A friend at church brought one to a pot luck a couple of years ago. I scarfed a dish of it. I hunted her down, gave her a big hug, and told her, “My Mama’s been gone more than 20 years, but this makes me feel like she’s still here.”

Not too long after that, I broke my leg. They announced it at church. She called me and said, “Can I do anything for you?” And I said, “Yes. You can make me a banana pudding.”

It helped. I swear it’s why my leg healed so fast.

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Uhhhh….hello?

February 9, 2018

In a testament to procrastination, here’s Christmas dinner.

Can I come back in? Are y’all still speaking to me?

Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa, for my protracted absence. I can plead illness and busy-as-hell since Christmas. After fighting the sinus infection from hell before the holiday, it crashed in on me with a vengeance after New Year’s, sending me to the doctor for a Z-pack, to the couch for a few days, and NOT to the kitchen much at all, as it had slaughtered my senses of taste and smell, and who cares about eating? I ate a lot of toast, and granola, and cheese and crackers.

And then it was catch-up time. Work catchup, that is. On the road a good bit, and chained to my desk a good bit more. I cooked, and there were a couple of exceptional things I’ll detail in coming days, but on the whole, nothing special.

So, anyway. That’s Christmas dinner, above. Pretty standard. Ham, roast beef, asparagus, brussels sprouts, mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes (carbs-r-us!) rolls, cranberry salad. The fam was satiated. The kids washed dishes. It was a good day.

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It begins!

November 19, 2017

Pumpkin cheesecake, top center, flanked by plain ones.

Well, if we don’t have anything else for Thanksgiving, we’ll have appetizers and dessert, because those are made.

(Note to self: Need to take turkey out of the freezer tomorrow. Don’t forget that.)

I got up with the urge to get in the kitchen Saturday, and get in the kitchen I did. Included in the day’s production were three cheesecakes, two cheese balls, and two small baguettes’ worth of crostini.

In truth, it would have been just two cheesecakes, but for the fact my nine-inch springform pan has taken feet and walked away. I was planning on a cheesecake in it for pot-luck at church tomorrow, but it wound up being two cheesecake pies, instead. I need to top them with…something, yet to be determined what. It may be a pecan topping I found a recipe for (that I was going to use, because it’s for a pecan pie cheesecake, with a layer of pecan pie, a layer of cheesecake, and then the topping, and who wouldn’t love THAT?

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eggbites, plate

Ready to be bagged up for breakfast.

Well, some of it, anyway.

I have bulghur oatmeal bread on its first rise, egg bites in the Instant Pot (and leftovers in the CSO), granola in the oven, and trout filets brining in the fridge. The sirloin tip will move to the freezer to wait his turn, and the bottom round will go in the cure to be corned, since it has to sit for two weeks, anyway.

The trout likely will not get smoked until tomorrow. It may be the bottom round won’t go in the brine until tomorrow. We shall see. Given how I felt yesterday, I’m fairly well amazed I got as much done as I did.

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Famous, for good reason

September 8, 2017

Rhoda's 0907

Famous? Damn straight.

“Road Food,” of course, was made famous by Jane and Michael Stern on public radio, but we’ve all been out on business or pleasure travel and happened up on marvelous food in the most unlikely of places. Here’s a report from my last couple of days on the road.

I had been on a business trip that took me to LA — that would be Lower Arkansas — and spent last night in Monticello, in the southeastern quadrant of the state. I commend to you, by the way, the Trotter House BnB there, where they fed me breakfast that would have sufficed for me and a friend.

Yogurt, fruit, fried ham and French toast with whipped butter and copious quantities of syrup. I would have done a truck driver proud.

I set out after breakfast with a couple of stops planned, but no real schedule, and decided on a whim I wanted tamales to bring home. So I betook myself east and south to Lake Village, in the far southeastern corner of the state, to Rhoda’s Famous Hot Tamales and Pies.

And they are, in fact. Famous, that is. At least in the Mid-South, where people might grant you could get good tamales across the Mississippi River in Greenville, MS, but if you want pie, you need to cross the bridge and go to Rhoda’s.

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The bounty of summer, all jarred up for winter.

Also, fighting the continuing gnat war.

Confession: I am REAL good at letting my ambition get away with me when it comes to buying produce.

Confession No. 2: I am not as good about using it all as I ought to be, and it sometimes gets away from me and I wind up have to throw something out, which makes me sad.

Confession No. 3: I have a distressing habit of leaving it on the counter, where it sometimes gets away from me and I wind up having to throw it out….but before I do, I develop a gnat problem.

Confession No. 4: The problem above is because my refrigerator is so damn full I don’t have room to put everything that ought to go in there. Yes, I’m a food hoarder. I need to go through and do a wholesale cleanout.

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