the Mighty Spud

Many of you read about my domestic backsliding from Friday's post. For the record, the scissors did make it off my floor and onto the table, but the bathrooms still have yet to be cleaned (ah...there's always tomorrow).

But since I started the conversation about trying just a little harder around home, I thought I would show you some shots from one of my favorite go-to meals when I'm really not in the mood to cook: the mighty spud.

Now, I rarely remember to actually put the potato in the oven when I'm supposed to, so I've developed a handy little procrastinator's trick to making a fluffy, crispy baked potato in a fraction of the time. Here's the trick:

:: take one or two potatoes (forked, of course, lest they explode) and put them in the microwave on high for at least 5 minutes. Conveniently my microwave has a "potato" setting so I just put the spuds in and hit Go.

As you might have learned, however, nuked potatoes are neither fluffy nor crinkled, so after the microwave is finished, I move on to step two: the toaster oven.

:: place the potatoes in the toaster oven on 400 degrees and bake (unfoiled) until the skins are wrinkled (about 10-15 minutes). They turn out just the way a baked potato should, minus all the waiting.

Then come the toppings. Judging by my photo above, you can see that I like cheese, carmelized onions (red is the best!), fresh chives and a little protein. I most frequently use chicken, but this time I sauteed up some deli ham (I was truthfully craving bacon but we didn't have any...).

Aren't they pretty all piled up like that?

For a final and NECESSARY touch I definitely don't forget the dollop of sour cream. I LOVE sour cream. A potato isn't a potato without it.

And yes, I do eat the skins.

Down to the last bite. Extra fiber, you know.

What are you eating this week?

Baby Steps for a Domestic Dropout

For someone with a blog about domestic pursuits, I have to confess that I have been a terrible role model lately. I barely cook. I rarely clean my house. I paid my mortgage payment 3 days late this month. I've gotten into the habit of tossing mail into a basket without even looking at it. I have no idea if we have enough toilet paper to get through the weekend.

In other words, I've been failing "home economics" with the flair of a dropout lately. So...when Monday rolled around earlier this week I decided that I needed to start trying harder. Take baby steps. Maybe reacquaint myself with the vacuum.

And so here is a story of my progress:

Monday: got up early, showered, and was ready for the day by 7:30. Made the bed (a small victory), paid bills, and designated one cleaning chore for the day: the floors.
Later: swept, mopped and vacuumed. Made baked potatoes for dinner (another small victory), and even had time to play frisbee AND do yoga.
Went to bed exhausted but happy.

Tuesday: got up a little later after hitting the snooze for 45 minutes. Still made the bed (hooray!) and picked another chore for the day: cleaning the kitchen.
Later, managed to plan a week's worth of healthy meals, go grocery shopping, clean kitchen AND make it to two evening events. Overall another good day.

Wednesday: husband has to literally drag me out of bed (seriously, he pulls my ankles off the bed), but manage to set a record by making bed again. I designate the bathrooms as my daily chore, and plan to make a healthy artichoke salad for dinner.
Later, accomplish salad but avoid bathrooms. Also, I did not work out or find the will to pick the scissors off my office floor (they'd been laying there since Monday).

Thursday: started day with similar scene involving me being pulled from my ankles out of bed. While making bed (4 days in a row!) I resolved to really clean the bathrooms this time, make another healthy dinner AND fit in a workout.
Later: substitute workout and bathroom cleaning for drinking beer and watching television, but still pull off a healthy dinner and even make leftovers. Scissors, however, are still laying precariously on floor.

Friday: try to pull the "it's Friday--I can sleep in" trick with husband to no avail. Make bed again! Make diligent plans to clean bathrooms before the weekend, spot clean the floors again, and serve a tasty buffalo chicken salad for dinner.
Later: it's too soon to tell, but it's not looking good for the bathrooms or those scissors on the floor...

Wishing you a happy (and domestic) weekend!
--steph

Ham & Cheese and cooking on the fly

I've been running around like a crazy person this week. Last night I managed to rush home from an all-day retreat, cram in some work, and then churn out sixteen handmade scones-from-scratch for a meeting later that night. And I did all of this in an hour-and-a-half.

Then, naturally, once I arrived I learned that I was not, in fact, scheduled to bring the evening snacks at all.

I really could have used that valuable tidbit of time-saving information about two hours earlier.

Yes--it's been that kind of week.
During weeks like this, I admit that I find it difficult to feed those I love, including myself. Which is why I'm so glad that last week I cooked. As in I actually cooked real dinners. I say it like this because it's been awhile. The truth is that for months now we've been following the FFYS ("Fend For YourSelf")food plan. Needless to say, dehydrated potatoes from a box have become a regular staple...
Breaking the mold, though, I did manage to throw together this little ham & cheese number from the most recent Everyday Food magazine (I'd give you the recipe but I can't seem to track it down at the moment...). It starts with some basics, like rice and spinach. And then adds one of my favorite punches of flavor: smoky, golden Gruyere cheese.
After the aforementioned ingredients are mixed, the ham and onions are sauteed together in white wine. We had leftover ham from Easter Sunday, and this seemed like a perfect way to use it up!
Above is the final, cheesy, scrumptious result. Affordable, hearty, and simple to prepare--this is the kind of dish I like.

And best of all, I froze half of it for a later date. Like, say, perhaps a week when I dont' have time to make dinner because I'm churning out scones at the last minute to bring to a group a week before I'm actually supposed to bring them.

Not that that ever happens to me...

Sweet Tooth

I couldn't very well dedicate a week of posts to my favorite things without including a few treats. Because I confess that I do have a bit of a sweet tooth.
Alright...maybe more than a "bit."
My favorite of the treats are probably cupcakes, but it's hard to say for sure. They're so cute and scrumptious. And easy to make.

Then again, so are scones. And cobbler. And cookies.
Overall I'd have to say that I prefer baking to cooking. This probably isn't great for the future of my waistline, but I can't hide who I am. There's just something appealing about flour and sugar and eggs all mixed together. Something that I don't find when...say...mixing chicken with rice and veggies.
This fondness for baked sweets runs in my family. My sister is the one who cleverly told me how to make sure my cookies don't go flat (a problem I've been having) and who knows the secrets of making zucchini bread in the croc pot. And then there's my dad, who always did the baking in the family, from birthday cakes to chocolate candy at Christmas.
Sweet tooths--the whole lot of us.

Now, if you'll excuse me...I'm going to eat some chocolate chip cookies for breakfast.

Do you have a sweet tooth, or were you one of those lucky people born without one? Share by posting your comment below!

**Just one more weekday until my new series (commence loud cheering), Je Ne Sais Quoi! I can't wait!**

More Culinary Creations

My family has a little Irish in it on my mom's side. The fair skin, the light eyes, and a few "Fitzgeralds" somewhere in the lineage. But truth be told, we never spent much time observing Irish culture. And so every year when St. Patrick's Day rolls around, I've never given it much thought.

But when I received Martha Stewart's March issue and saw her recipe for Irish Cream Cupcakes, I knew that it was finally time to give some attention to my Irish roots.
The ingredients for these little cakes include the basics: flour, eggs, milk, sugar, etc. And butter. Another whole stick of butter.

Yes...that means I have gone through 3 sticks of butter in the past 5 days. Apparently I'm turning into Julia Child....

Additionally, to accomplish the "coffee" element, the cupcakes called for instant espresso to round out the flavor, and fortunately for me I always keep a little on hand specifically for baking purposes like this...
And then came my handy Kitchen-Aid mixer. It still pleases me to watch it mix so obediently while I keep myself otherwise occupied. Truly it won't be long before I'm caught saying things like, "I don't know how I ever managed without one," and "every woman needs this appliance."
Now here's where my baking enterprise admittedly gets a little obnoxious. You see, the only paper cups I had on hand were leftovers from Valentines Day. Which means that they have red hearts on the bottom and lots of pink stripes. Now everyone knows that you CAN'T put desserts themed for one holiday (in this case, St. Pats Day) into cups designed for another, and so I had a serious dilemma.

So here's the obnoxious part: rather than go to the store to just buy generic cups like a normal person, I decided to be an overachiever and make my own cups from parchment paper. And so I diligently measured each parchment square, and even used special craft scissors to cut a jagged edge on each one.

It was the kind of move that could get you harmed in some parts of the world. The parts that don't take kindly to overzealous displays of free time and unnecessary crafting.
Oh...I almost forgot to mention that these cupcakes also have whiskey in them. These snacks aren't for children, people.
And here, my friends, is the result. Some whipped cream frosting sprinkled with espresso powder and they truly do remind me of an irish cream coffee.

My favorite part about them is that they weren't very sweet. Only half-a-cup of sugar in the cakes and a spoonful in the frosting allowed the other flavors, like coffee and liquor, to come through.
And yes--to round it all out I did pair mine with a glass of Guinness, although I couldn't convince many of my friends to do the same.

There's still time to bake your own Irish Cream treats before St. Patty's Day! I'd give you the link to the recipe, but as usual I can't find it online. So snatch a copy of Martha's March issue and bake away!

These Things Can Literally Stop Your Heart.

note: the following post contains MANY gratuitous photos of ooey, gooey, cinnamon rolls. Consider yourself warned.
Hello and happy Friday to you all.
I don't mean to brag, but this is what I ate for breakfast.
I can still taste every so faintly the cinnamon. And sugar. And cream cheese.
For the record, I have decided to block all memories involving the butter and sugar affair mentioned yesterday, and have chosen to not even think about the number of calories I just consumed.
Trust me--it's better that way.
Did I mention that the recipe I used made 24 cinnamon rolls?

That's right--TWO DOZEN.
Two down...twenty to go.
Can someone please wake me from my food comma before lunch?

Thank you.

Inducting the Kitchen Aid: cream cheese frosting (part 3)

I promise that this is the last cinnamon roll post for today (note: I only said today. Be prepared for more gratuitous photos of gooey buns tomorrow!). I realize that maybe you are tired of hearing about cinnamon rolls, but when I got home from my lunch and errands, the wonderful smell of cinnamon and fresh bread filled the air, and I couldn't resist the urge to finish the process and frost some buns.

(note: a small, juvenile part of me just smiled at the phrase "frost some buns." Apparently the later in the day it gets, the more I resemble a 12-year-old-boy...)
Now, the recipe I was consulting for the rolls included a Caramel Glaze to pour over the top, but I knew that just wouldn't do. Because if I was going to put TWO sticks of butter and TWO cups of sugar into these babies, you can be sure that I wasn't going to cut corners with some lame "glaze."

Oh no--I was going out with a bang. What I mean is that these rolls needed Cream Cheese Frosting and nothing less. And so I set about concocting my own recipe. I did select, as you will note below, a few lower-fat options, probably to assuage my aforementioned butter/sugar guilt, but the result was just what I wanted.
Which is to say that I wanted a light, slightly tangy frosting. I realize that some of you readers out there might prefer to load a thick, buttery pile of ultra-sugary frosting on top of your bun, but I frankly can't handle all that sweetness. So I toned down the sugar (way down). You, of course, can add more if you want. After TWO sticks of butter, I hardly have room to judge.

And the final result? More on that tomorrow...

Inducting the Kitchen Aid: anatomy of a cinnamon roll (part 2)

First of all, my husband would like you all to know that some of these photos were taken by him. Normally I wouldn't indulge him in making this announcement, but since I had to rush out to lunch, leaving him to the task of watching the rolls rise and baking them, I figured I owed him.

Besides, normally his hands are so shaky that his photos turn out blurry, and he was very proud that these turned out sharp. I can only imagine how hard he was concentrating while shooting these...
Now onto part 2 of the rolls themselves. After my chemistry experiments with warm ingredients and yeast, the dough did actually rise as intended. I say this because often my breads have difficulty rising, so when they perform like they're supposed to, I feel rather elated.

This dough, as you can see above, actually rose right out of the bowl, pushing up the lid. What a little overachiever!
Next comes the guts. In case you're counting, there are 2--that's right, TWO--sticks of butter in these rolls. I was mentioning to my friends at lunch that everyone should be forced to bake these type of treats from scratch at least once because it makes you oh-so-keenly aware of how terribly bad they are for your arteries. Which is a fact you ignore when you just buy the roll at the bakery.

Buying them, after all, doesn't involve the process of actually unwrapping the two sticks of butter by hand and dumping them into the bowl. Along with 2 cups of sugar.

You get my point.
Of course none of that stopped me from carrying on with my baking. From this point it was time to roll the dough--a very hearty and satisfying exercise if you ask me personally. Kinda makes up for the butter & sugar guilt. A little.
Then comes the rolling part of the rolls. Yes, you have to get your hands dirty. Cinammon rolls aren't for the dainty.
Finally the rolls are ready to be sliced and set into their baking dishes so that they can rise yet again for another hour before they hit the oven.

But more on that last part later...

Inducting the Kitchen Aid: a tale of cinnamon rolls (part 1)

note: this tale will continue throughout the day in various parts...
The Kitchen Aid--helper of domestic divas for ages--was a contentious item among me and my husband during our engagement. You see, I wanted one. I recall distinctly standing in the aisles of a department store, registry gun in hand, ready and willing to zap the tag of a cherry red mixer on the shelf. And then the fight began.

He thought they were too expensive. I thought every young bride needed one. And I lost the battle. Thus no Kitchen Aid for me.

That is, until my recent 30th birthday when I guess everyone in my family was tired of me telling my sad Kitchen-Aid-registry story and just decided to all chip in and buy me one.

And so I have decided that today is the day to induct my new appliance into the family. And Cinnamon Rolls are the object of choice.
Now, I was planning on waking up around 6:00am to start these lovely rolls--because bakers rise early, you know. Alas, I knew even before I hit the pillow last night that no matter how delectable the gooey rolls may be, they didn't stand a chance of rousing me from bed that early.

And so it was later--much, much later--that I started to melt the butter and sugar in milk, and warm the eggs in a bowl.
While the ingredients were coming up to room temperature (apparently a prerequisite for tasty rolls), I was laying out the various appendages that come with a standard Kitchen Aid. Is it just me, or do they slightly resemble a collection of medieval torture devices?

Torture aside, the spiral dough hook is the one I needed, so I fastened it to the mixer and then tried to decipher the yeast-dissolving instructions from my recipe book. Using my meat thermometer (seriously--I really should get an appropriate temperature gauge) I tried to get the yeast-water mixture just right, all the while feeling very glad that I didn't attempt this chemistry with bleary eyes at 6AM.
And after some measuring and mixing, I gleefully watched as the dough gradually came together in my shiny new machine.

Now it is resting and rising in a sunny corner on my counter, waiting for the next step.

To be continued...