Categories
Easy Baking Frozen Desserts Ice Cream No-Bake Recipes

Smile Like You Mean It. Preferably A La Mode.

YOU GUYS. I just discovered this crazy amazing band. They are known as The Killers. They are stupendous!

I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m not that out of touch. Relax, cool kids. But, I have become re-obsessed with these guys for reasons unknown, though I’m not complaining. They really are amazing. On a side note, does anyone have a bajillion dollars kicking around that you’d like to use to buy me tickets to see them live? Just kidding. Not really. No…no I’m not really kidding.

Anyway, originally I was going to post “When You Were Young” to go along with this post, but that song and video are both hella depressing (and hella fantastic), and I figured you were all as sick of me and my complaining by this point as I was. This song’s probably pretty sad, too, but I’m a little bit too tired and a little bit too focused on trying to stay positive to notice. So…you know…smile like you mean it and whatnot.

Really though. I have posts and posts worth of crap to complain over. I have more stuff to complain about than I do stuff to bake. But, then, so do we all, right? I’m starting to think that maybe the only way to turn it all around is to turn it all around myself. And to maybe laugh at random moments as well. Like, really random. It scares the beejeebus out of people, and that makes me happy.

Something else that makes me happy is ice cream. Ice cream makes me so #%$(@-ing happy (I curse a lot, especially when I am happy). In my last post, I mentioned a trip to Vermont. On said trip, my boyfriend and I encountered something called a Creemee. This, supposedly, is just a regional term for soft serve, though I kind of think that’s bunk since this is the stuff dreams are made of. I tell you, I have never had a frozen treat so rich and decadent and, well, creamy. Since our return to NYC, Boyfriend has not failed to mention it at least once a week, nostalgically reminiscing on the Creemee as if it were a long, lost friend whom he misses terribly. In fact, he is, as I type this, on his way to Vermont for another one. Okay, okay, he’s going for other reasons too, but he kind of made it seem like he had one goal, and one goal only, in mind. To be fair, I asked him to bring me back one, as well. This will obviously not work for several reasons, the primary reason being that he’ll eat mine, too. No matter. I’ve figured out how to almost fully replicate them all on my own! Without an ice cream maker, because I am boogie-down broke! MUAHAHA!

SONY DSC

Maple Creemee (makes a little less than a quart)

adapted from Tribeca Mommy

Inside of a quart-sized zipped plastic bag:

1 cup heavy cream

3/4 cup of milk (I used 1% because that’s all I ever have)

1/4 teaspoon of vanilla extract

1/3 cup of pure maple syrup (Grade A or B…B’s darker and stronger, which I heart)

Inside a gallon-sized bag:

1/2 pound of coarse salt

2 1/2 pounds of ice

Also, you’ll need a spotter and/or excellent upper-body strength. Hey, you gotta work for your Creemee around these parts.

This is super easy by the way, aside from all the exercise. Place all ingredients except salt and ice in your smaller bag, zip very very tightly (unless you want salty ice cream, gracias no) and shake around a bit. Then, carefully place half of your ice and salt in the gallon bag, carefully lay quart-sized bag on top, and cover with more ice, leaving enough room to comfortably zip the gallon bag, and zip it.

I call this "Han Solo In Carbonite." Wait...
I call this “Han Solo In Carbonite.” Wait…

Here’s where the spotter/stretching comes in. Wrap a small towel around the bag and shake for ten minutes. Some of you are laughing at me for making a big deal of shaking a bag of ice for ten minutes. You people are buggin’. This is, like, not easy.

You can stop once your mixture is thick and custard-like.

SONY DSC

Obviously you can’t see from the above, but, uhhh…that’s where we stopped.

SONY DSC

Now, this may not look pretty at all. Maybe it looks a little like white gazpacho, or hummus. Actually, it really does, doesn’t it? Well, it’s a creemee, I promise. And it’s all kinds of wonderful. Really. So wonderful, in fact, that my boyfriend secretly made two more batches of this stuff while I was away. Fortunately, he shared, but still. Two. Within days of this first batch. It’s that amazingly good. Also, if you have children, you can totally employ them encourage them to help you shake shake shake this stuff up. I am often, mentally, five years old and I really enjoyed making this. That should tell you everything.

Categories
Cakes Classic Favorites Cookies

I’ve Been a Puppet, a Pauper, a Pirate, uh, an Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Pie

I picked this because asi es la vida! Subtitulos Espanol!

First, I really want to thank everyone for the messages of concern, the hugs and, yes, even the “WTF WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!?!” scoldings after my last post. I’m totally fine, albeit still just the tiniest bit annoyed/shaken up, but it was really surprising and touching to realize how many people were concerned for me. Thanks for caring, homies! I love you, too!

So I’ve tried to stop airing out all my drama and problems on social media, because I’m private and it’s boring and I’d much rather use Facebook to ask for book recommendations and post delightfully nerdy stuff like this. But I guess this is kind of social media too, right? In my mind, since I am both a grump and currently a hermit, this blog is more anti-social media. That sort of justifies, for me at least, all the whining I do on this thing. Feel me? Hope so, because I’m feeling complain-y!

A couple of weeks ago, I went to Vermont, ignored all my many health problems, and climbed a friggin’ mountain. Ok, we hiked  the thing, but it was still pretty damn scary, especially toward the cold, windy top, where I almost lost a precious Mets cap and my balance. Notice how I mention the hat first. Priorities, kids.

Yes, that's me beneath the oversized hoodie and mess of curly craziness.
Yes, that’s me beneath the oversized hoodie and mess of curly craziness.

Anyway, I think I’ve mentioned about a bajillion and one times that I have moderate-to-severe asthma, and I think I’ve also maybe mentioned that sometimes I try to pretend I don’t and hike mountains. That’s how things like chest pains, panic attacks and altitude sickness happen, methinks.

Ok, only the chest pains occurred right after descent. The other two came in the days after our trip to the Green Mountain State. My very, very wise decision to go straight up and straight down the highest point in Vermont, combined with my lack of proper hydration and general moronic tendencies have led to a couple of weeks of dizziness, loopy-ness (more than usual, yes, thank you for asking) and sadness. I’ve been trying to get a doctor’s appointment just to make sure something didn’t fly into my ear on a peak and that I don’t literally have rocks for brains now, but my appointments keep getting cancelled by the office. The service I book through, however, has offered me an Amazon gift card for my troubles. Free monies guys! Priorities!

All of this sickness has been helped along by a really, really difficult week that’s left me wondering what…well, what the hell. I hate to be all me, me, me on this thing (that’s an invitation for any good news from you, readers… I’d love to celebrate some happy stuff on the blog!), but, well, life’s been tough on me lately. I mean, you can do everything possible to try to make your life a positive, happy, fulfilling one, and then something completely out of your control can come along and make you want to give all that positivity the finger. That’s life, right Mr. Sinatra?

Anyway, baking because sad, comforting recipe,easy deliciousness, on and on, you know the drill, please let’s just do this.

Oatmeal Raisin Cookie Pie (makes one 9-inch round pie)

adapted from Serious Eats

For the pie

3/4 cup of all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon of salt

1/2 teaspoon of baking soda

1 1/2 cups of old-fashioned oats

1 stick of softened butter

1/2 cup of brown sugar

1/4 cup of granulated white sugar

1 egg

1 teaspoon of vanilla

1/2 cup of raisins

For the icing

1/3 cup of confectioners’ sugar

1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon of heavy cream

Preheat your oven to 350ºF and grease either a 9-inch springform pan or pie plate.

In a medium bowl, sift together flour, cinnamon, salt, baking soda and oats, and set aside. In the bowl of a stand mixer or using a hand mixer, cream together butter and sugars until smooth. Beat in egg and vanilla, then add in dry ingredients and mix just until combined. Gently fold in raisins.

SONY DSC

SONY DSC

Spread batter into pan and use a rubber spatula to flatten and even out the top as much as possible. Bake until the top is golden brown, about 20 to 25 minutes. Let pie cool in pan for 5 minutes before releasing. Let cool completely.

SONY DSC

Now, on to the super-easy icing. In a small bowl, stir together confectioners’ sugar and heavy cream until you reach the desired consistency. Drizzle atop the pie, in any fashion you’d like. I poured the icing into a small sandwich bag and snipped a corner off to drizzle, since I don’t trust the fashion I’d like.

SONY DSC

Pretty, right? It was also yum. AND I cut down the sugar quite a bit and it was STILL yum. I swear. I even got confirmation from two kids (who cannot tell a lie, I’ve been told). One exclaimed “I LOVE it” several times before going for extra helpings, and one announced “It’s bad,” in between large bites and before also going for a second helping. That’s life.

Categories
Classic Favorites Cookies

It’s Peanut Butter Cry Extensively Time.

Uh…a warning, friends and readers, readers and friends. The following few paragraphs are kind of sort of really depressing. Feel free to skip directly to the recipe if you’d like. I’ll still love you. ❤

So, awful things have happened in the last few days.

Last monsoon-disgusting Friday night, as I was walking home from the subway station, I noticed a disturbed man about fifty feet in front of me, screaming at no one in particular and thrashing about wildly. Guess what? The dude’s coat was the same color as mine, and since I happened to be walking in the same direction I guess I gave the impression that I was following him or mocking him or something, which did not endear me to him (not that I was looking for that but…whatever). And this one, rainy, horrible night, absolutely no one was around to help. There was not a soul walking or driving down the normally busy street in front of my apartment building. I was afraid that if I ran, he’d run after me. I was afraid if I screamed, he’d scream louder and drown me out. I was afraid if I pulled out my phone to call someone, he’d threaten to kill me. And guess what? The second a person did show up to help me and calm me down, the second I did pull out my phone to dial the cops, this man did threaten to kill me. He saw me with my phone from across the street, saw what I was doing, and threatened to kill me.  Every bad thing I’ve ever thought could ever happen to me was starting to happen, and I was paralyzed. I felt scared, defeated, stupid, embarrassed and angry all at once.

I saw him walk away, thought he had left, and made my way with helpful stranger in tow towards my building, where the man brushed right by me…and then disappeared around a corner. Just like that, it was all over, and I ran into my apartment shaking and crying and attempting to explain what had just happened in stutters and spurts to my boyfriend.

So now what I’m thinking is, I have this army-green coat that I never want to wear again, and maybe I don’t want to live in New York anymore, maybe I can’t live in New York anymore, maybe I’m too scared or too sensitive or too irritable or too something. And thinking all of that upsets me and breaks my heart a little bit.

photo(3)
A hilarious doodle by my friend Jeremy. This is meant to cheer those of you who who just read all that emo stuff up. Thanks, Jeremy!

Also, my landlord has decided to sell our apartment and has left us to deal with a rather snobby, pushy realtor who insists on inserting herself into our living space (and kicking us out) whenever she pleases in order to hold open houses or show nosy strangers around. So, there’s that.

I know I’m not usually so forthcoming. Actually, I’m typically kind of sketchy, no? I haven’t really told anyone but my boyfriend and my younger sister–and, uh, the cops–what happened, which makes it even stranger that I’d want to tell the world in a blog post. I also hope I don’t sound like I’m being dramatic at all. I know much worse happens every day and I know much worse could have happened that day. But I’m still kind of shaken up by it all, and I guess I consider myself a writer, and sometimes the only way to heal a wound is by doing something that you love. That means writing, and that means baking, specifically baking something comforting.

Believe it or not, even though peanut butter is my jam (ha…ha?), I have never made a peanut butter cookie. I have no idea how I have made it to this age without doing so, but now is the time to get cracking. Armed with a cookie book gifted to us by some awesome, awesome friends, I got to it. It’s peanut butter cookie time.

Peanut Butter Oatmeal Cookies (makes about 30 cookies)

adapted from a recipe in Carole Walter’s Great Cookies

1 cup of all-purpose flour

1/3 cup of quick-cooking or rolled oats

1/2 teaspoon of baking soda

1/2 teaspoon of baking powder

1/2 teaspoon of salt

1 cup natural peanut butter, crunchy or smooth (I used smooth because I was trying to get rid of a jar of it, but crunchy would likely rule your and my world if you let it)

1 stick of butter, softened

1 1/2 tablespoons of honey

1/3 cup of granulated sugar

1/3 cup of brown sugar

1 large egg

1 teaspoon of pure vanilla extract

SONY DSC

In a medium-sized bowl, sift together flour, oats, baking soda, baking powder and salt, and set aside. In the bowl of a stand mixer, or using a hand mixer, beat together peanut butter, butter, honey and sugars. When smooth, beat in egg until fully mixed. Stir in vanilla extract.

Fold in dry ingredients and mix just until combined, then send into your refrigerator for about an hour, or until the batter is completely chilled.

Scoop out tablespoon-sized balls onto your cookie sheets, about two inches apart. Then, with a fork, lightly flatten each ball, making a “crisscross” pattern.

SONY DSC
I know, I know, messy. Or as I like to call them, “rustic.”

Place cookie sheets in oven– one on top rack, one on bottom rack– for 11 to 13 minutes. To be honest, I would and did take them out around 11 minutes, since these especially tend to bake very quickly. Towards the end of baking, rotate the pans and switch racks to ensure even baking, and take out when the tops are very lightly browned.

SONY DSC

Let cool on pans for about a minute, then move to wire racks until completely cooled.

Verdict? Well, believe it or not, these actually made me feel so much better. Peanut butter is my comfort food. My boyfriend will tell you that I can often be seen hovering in front of the open fridge, with my back to him, obviously trying to hide the fact that I am sneaking spoonfuls of PB. I have problems.

These cookies are remarkable. I actually cut the sugar quite a bit, and went for all-natural peanut butter, which is unsweetened, so I was skeptical of how they’d ultimately taste. But they were peanut buttery amazeballs. Really. I even took it just a step further and did this:

SONY DSC

Peanut butter and jelly sandwich cookies, which may or may not be replacing my daily peanut butter and jelly sandwich lunch. Bread is for birds anyway, right? Don’t judge me. Please don’t judge me.

Categories
Chocolate Cheer No-Bake Recipes

What The Fudge Is Everyone’s Problem? Also, Fudge.

You GUYS. I am SO MAD! I’m not even kidding. I’m so… mad.

I wish I were kidding or talking about something kind of insignificant. Okay, yes, I am a bit disappointed in the latest season of Arrested Development. All the random cameos–especially of the people from Outsourced… brown peeps, don’t even play like you weren’t as happy as I was to see those guys–did kind of lessen the blow, but wow, it kind of isn’t that great, right? All jokes and television programs aside, though, I’m finding myself really disappointed in the level of toxicity around me.

BUT SHIBOW. YOU LIVE IN NEW YORK. YOUR WHOLE HOOD MUST BE LIKE THAT DIRTBAG FROM THE PEANUTS CARTOONS.

I made the joke for you. You’re all welcome. Har har.

enhanced-buzz-14845-1370020601-25
Inserted to break up the tension. It’s getting too serious, ya’ll, I know.

Sorry. I realize I sound pretty snippy and irritable. Those are two things that I presently am, though, and it ain’t because of the strange smells coming from the return of the New York City summer. It’s mostly because I’ve found myself in contact with some really foul moods lately, and I’m not a fan. I’m not interested in fighting or yelling or throwing fits or treating people badly, and I cannot comprehend it when others are. Seriously, I think in the last week I’ve had to deal with each of those things at least twice. Why treat someone poorly over nothing when you have no idea what the object of your wrath/annoyance/twisted amusement is possibly coping with? I’ll just never understand it.

There are a couple of things that kept me going this week. One was a pair of elephant shorts that my boyfriend randomly gifted to me earlier in the week. If you don’t know me, maybe this sounds small to you. If you do know me, you know why I lost my mind after having received them. He had to convince me not to wear them three days in a row. I love this man (Editor’s note: My friend Afshan brought to my attention that many readers may not know to what I am referring, and may think I mean elephant-shaped shorts. Her exact words were that she “pictured mc hammer pants with a frontal private cover.” These are the shorts I am speaking of. That’s my bad.)

Also, last weekend I kind of went on a baking rampage and churned out like seven different amazing goods, from rosemary rum cocktails to well, fudge. It sort of healed me in a weird way. And now I hope it heals you :).

Lavender Chocolate Fudge (makes 64 tiny blocks of goodness), adapted from the Betty Crocker Cookbook

3 1/2 cups of sugar

1 1/3 cups of milk (I used 1%)

1/4 cup of light corn syrup

1/4 teaspoon of salt

4 ounces of unsweeted baking chocolate, chopped, or 2/3 cup of cocoa powder (I used cocoa)

1 1/2 teaspoons of dried lavender (skip this if you want the classic stuff)

1/4 cup of butter, cut into small pieces

2 teaspoons of vanilla

Grease the bottoms and sides of an 8-inch square baking pan with butter and set aside, and have a candy thermometer ready as well.

In a large saucepan over medium heat, combine sugar, milk, corn syrup, salt and cocoa, stirring constantly, until the sugar has dissolved and the cocoa as liquefied.

SONY DSC

SONY DSC

Stir in your lavender, if using, and cook until your thermometer reaches 234°F.

Keep watch over this thing; after the mixture reaches boiling, the temperature will increase rapidly. If you don’t have a thermometer, keep cooking until a small amount of the mixture forms a soft ball when dropped into a bowl of cold water. I’ve used this trick. This trick is what’s up.

Good trick courtesy of the internets: Lay a wooden spoon over a pot of boiling stuff to keep it from spilling over.
Good trick courtesy of the internets: Lay a wooden spoon over a pot of boiling goodness to keep it from spilling over.

Remove mixture from heat and stir in your butter. Cool to 120ºF, without stirring, which should take about an hour. Add vanilla, then beat the mixture vigorously with a wooden spoon– no stopping, so have a trusted adult nearby just in case– for 5 to 10 minutes or until the fudge is thick and doesn’t have a sheen to it. This took me about 6 minutes.

Spread evenly in pan and let stand until firm, about 1 hour.

SONY DSC

Cut into 1-inch squares once cooled, and store in airtight containers (if you can bring yourself to step away from these babies).

SONY DSC

So, it’s a little hard to cut these without getting little bits of fudge popping out all over the place. I found that eating those little pieces helps quite a bit, though. Food for thought…and for your belly.

SONY DSC

Unbelievable. Insane. Insane. Since I’d also made marshmallows when I made these, we decided to try s’mores made with this fudge instead of a chocolate bar. Holy…holy holy. I can’t even tell you. I just can’t. I can still, one week later, taste that miracle in my mouth. Just… do this.

Categories
Cakes Fancy Pantsy

It’s A Marshmallow World. A Lemony, Lovely, Marshmallow Bleepin’ World.

Um, guys? It’s, like, the end of May right? Because… I wore a hat yesterday. And I wasn’t trying to be chic and awesome, I was trying to be warm. This is getting kind of ridiculous, so I’d very much like for someone to pass my displeasure on to whomever might be in charge of the weather. Thanks very much.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about things. I feel like, uh, things have just been moving nonstop for the past few months. I seriously cannot recall the last time I felt like it was okay to just take a breath, lounge around in my ridiculous shipwreck-type attire (my pajama pants ripped like a million months ago but I am too attached to them and too lazy to buy a new pair) and do absolutely nothing. Does anyone else feel like it’s been a particularly busy season? And it’s not even like I’m suddenly really popular or anything, because I think I remain in the “pretty likeable except when she’s hungry” category. I haven’t miraculously skyrocketed to “amazingly perfect and I need to constantly hang out with her” status, nor do I ever want to, to be honest. I think I’d hate that lady.

Truth be told, most of the happenings that have kept me from lazing about like the sloth I wish I were are good happenings.

This post is dedicated to the person represented by the above photo. That's a fancy way of saying my boyfriend prefers to keep his face a secret/animated for this blog.
This post is dedicated to the person represented by the above photo. That’s a fancy way of saying my boyfriend prefers to keep his face a secret/animated for this blog.

The most recent of those good happenings happened to be my boyfriend’s 35th birthday. Now, I almost always hate getting mushy on this blog, but, well, you know… I talk about the dude a lot. Seriously, in addition to being the person who (sometimes begrudgingly) puts up with flour-covered counters and maple-syrup-sticky floors, he’s the handsomest, most talented, best big buddy I have. J, I couldn’t ask for a better roommate–thanks for continuing to let me interrupt you while you’re leisurely reading, keeping you from ever finishing a book in one sitting. I hope to continue this terrible, rude tradition with you for many years to come.

Such things, they call for cake, no?

Now, I’d obviously asked the boy what kind of cake he wanted and gave him very fancy choices until he basically told me I needed to cool my Air India jets and K.I.S.S. (except he did not utter the last “S” since he knows homegirl don’t play that). So, we kept it simple…sweetheart. Lemon cake. Marshmallow frosting. Lots of love and kisses. Let’s do this.

Actually before we do this, I have to share this picture. I live with a neat freak and have no idea how he puts up with me and this hot, hot mess. Um...happy birthday, love?
Actually before we do this, I have to share this picture. I live with a neat freak and have no idea how he puts up with me and this hot, hot mess. Um…happy birthday, love?

Lemon Layer Cake with Marshmallow Frosting (adapted from here and here)

For the cake

2 cups of all-purpose flour, spooned and leveled

1 teaspoon of baking powder

1/2 teaspoon of baking soda

1/2 teaspoon of salt

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

1/2 cup of butter, softened

3 large eggs

1 cup of nonfat buttermilk, or 1 teaspoon of vinegar mixed with close to a cup of skim milk (let sit for 5 minutes if using this)

2 tablespoons finely grated lemon zest

2 tablespoons freshly-squeezed lemon juice

For the frosting

4 egg whites

1 cup of granulated sugar

1/2 cup of light corn syrup

1 tablespoon of vanilla extract

Pinch of salt

Preheat your oven to 350°F, and grease and flour two 8-inch round cake pans, then line the bottoms of pans with parchment paper. Coat paper with butter and set aside.

In a medium-sized bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt, and set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer or using a hand mixer, beat together butter and sugar at medium speed until fluffy, about 5 minutes. Beat in eggs, one at a time, then alternately mix in a portion of flour mixture and buttermilk, beginning and ending with the flour mixture.

SONY DSC

Lastly, beat in lemon zest and juice until all ingredients are fully combined.

Divide the batter evenly between two cake pans, then bake on the middle rack for approximately 32 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of a cake comes out clean.

Cool cake in pans for 10 minutes, then remove to wire racks to cool completely.

Now, let’s move on to this frosting. Please note, and this is IMPORTANT, you need to have a cool cake for this. Not, like, awesome, because, duh… it already is. But cool as in recently removed from the refrigerator. Since marshmallow frosting is pretty delicate, it needs a cool surface to rest on, so cool these cakes out.

Now, place a large (and I do mean large, since the frosting will double in size once you start mixing) metal or glass bowl atop a large saucepan filled with barely simmering water. Place all ingredients in bowl, and beat on high speed using a hand mixer.

SONY DSC

Beat until the mixture is thick and fluffy. This will take about 7 minutes so…have a spotter? Remove from heat, and continue to mix until the frosting has cooled slightly. SONY DSC

Using a flat spatula, generously frost the top of one cake, then top with the other cake. Lovingly plop down lots and lots of frosting and start spreading. Really, just go crazy. If you’re lucky, you’ll have tons of frosting leftover to do unspeakable things with. Sorry.

SONY DSC

Isn’t she pretty, balanced precariously on that counter top? Fortunately, I was able to keep it from being a bit too simple thanks to some fun cookie cutters I received as a Christmas present (thanks, Sylvapotamus!):

SONY DSC

Oh…I hope it’s obvious that my boyfriend’s name is Jim. I feel like I’ve never mentioned that before, but I guess it would be awkward and rude if another man’s name topped my boyfriend’s cake. But it’s Jim, and that’s a heart. And that’s because I love Jim.

I wish I had taken a picture of the inside of the cake, but, um, we were at a bar with a bunch of his friends and I was inebriated. Sorry. I feel like I have to be honest with you guys because I love you all. But I’m really relieved to say the cake turned out amazingly well. I even caught my boyfriend stealing a couple more pieces and had the waitress try a piece and give it a thumbs-up. I also enjoyed it but don’t expect you to believe me because… drunk.