Nutty Granola and Oatmeal Cookies: Similar Ingredients...Completely Different Results

"Yeah, yeah...I know...I've heard this speech before," my daughter said to me in a tone dripping with teenager attitude. Frustrated I fired back at her, "And that's exactly the kind of attitude that won't help out your cause." She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. I left the room and headed toward the stairs.


Passing by the living room, I caught a glimpse of the 5-year-old standing erect with his arms at his side, hands clenched. His older brother was sitting nearby with a glimmer in his eye and a smirk on his face. A Zhu Zhu Babies commercial was playing on the television. This didn't look good. At the top of his lungs the 5-year-old screamed at his brother, "Just stop it! Just stop it you stupid-head!" stuck out his tongue and then pushed past me to run up the stairs. The 11-year-old couldn't help but break into a full smile at that point. With feigned innocence he turned to me and said, "What?"


I gave him "the look" and continued up the stairs. Tired. Out of "parenting" ideas. And wondering "Who are these children?"

I plopped down on my bed and went through the actions I'd taken over the past few months to try to guide my children into better, more respectful, more responsible behavior. The reminder signs. The consequences. The reasoning. But really...nothing seemed to be working all that great.


Reluctantly, I reached over and pulled the book off my nightstand. I didn't want to do it. Hadn't I already read enough parenting books? But, I admitted to myself, I needed some fresh thoughts on the matter.

As I flipped through the pages, little nuggets of wisdom seemed to call out to me.


"They are growing up but they are not grown-up."


"Don't take your child's behavior personally."


"Be curious enough to try to understand your child's point of view."


"You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts."


And then I came across a sentence. A simple sentence but one that made me slam the book shut. To sigh and shake my head. To realize that a bit of the truth was staring me right in the face.


"Sometimes you get the best results by forgetting about the behavior and focusing on the relationship."

Wasn't it true that I'd been spending an inordinate amount of time on my stuff? My writing. My photographs. My appointments. My projects around the house. My incessant need to cook...stuff.


Oh, yeah, I had been putting up my responsibility reminder lists, making sure they got their hour of weeding in on the weekends, their homework done, their beds made, dishes done...but had I really been spending any time with them? Focused time?


I'd even caught myself recently thinking, "I really should take my little guy to the playground." But I didn't.

Knowing that the kiddos were out of school on Monday, I made a promise to myself. I would take them to do something fun. Something they would really like. And I would just enjoy each one of them. Their company. I would put aside all thoughts of "To Dos" and "Goals."


So, I put all of my chickens in the car and we headed downtown for a movie. And not just any movie. But the "Justin Bieber: Never Say Never" movie in 3D. (Let it be known that this was not the first choice of the 11-year-old. But he was a very good sport.) As I looked down the row at my three chickens with their glasses on, the 5-year-old munching away on his popcorn and everyone smiling, I couldn't help but smile myself. Later, we putzed around. Chatted. No real agenda except to be back in time for dinner.

That evening I learned that the 5-year-old had changed his name to Justin after discovering that he could "swish" his hair like his namesake. This is the type of situation that would normally set-off a litany of taunting and teasing by his older brother. But not this time. Instead, I found him kindly combing his little brother's hair into the proper swish, helping him put on a "Justin Bieber outfit" and then, leading him downstairs to pound away on our old, beat-up drum set.

And that night, instead of giving my daughter the rushed, "Good night," I laid down on her bed. With her. And we talked. She talked. Late into the evening. She covered all manner of subjects. Homework. Friends. All those stresses of middle school. And when I finally got up to go, she said to me, "Mom....?"


"Yes?"


"Thanks for today."


"You are so welcome."

So this morning, as snowflakes gently fall out my window, I mix up my oats, my cinnamon, my almonds. Individual ingredients that will eventually make-up a whole finished product. A batch of homemade granola. Or perhaps oatmeal cookies. Similar ingredients that produce uniquely different results. And I think to myself, "It's hard, isn't it? This delicate balancing act. Trying to figure out when to focus on teaching responsibility and respect and an entire encyclopedia of other attributes to our children and when...to let go of all of that and simply enjoy them. As people."


(Sigh....)






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Nutty Granola and Oatmeal Cookies: Similar Ingredients...Completely Different Results


Okay, this week, you're getting two recipes....you lucky people you. The first is a batch of homemade granola. I tossed in a little of this and a little of that...which is the beauty of granola...and "Voila!" delicious. So, if you don't have all of the ingredients, no biggie. Use what you have. Then, I got crazy and took that homemade granola and put it into oatmeal cookies. (Don't tell the Rooster though. He recently asked me for a batch of oatmeal cookies but said, "Nothing crazy. No crazy ingredients. Just a plain oatmeal cookie." I can't help myself.) Both are the perfect antidote for a pensive, snowy day.






A Nutty Homemade Granola


Delicious plain, on yogurt, with milk, sprinkled over ice cream. And as a side note, I tend to have a lot of different nuts around. (I mean the ingredient, not my children.) I buy them in bulk and store them in the freezer where they keep beautifully for months and months.


Ingredients:


3 c old-fashioned rolled oats (not quick cooking)
1 c raisins
1/2 c unsweetened, shredded coconut
1/2 c pecan pieces
1/2 c walnut pieces
1/2 c almonds, chopped or not, your choice
2 tbsp golden flax seed
1 tbsp wheat germ

1 tbsp brown sugar

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 c pure maple syrup
2 tbsp olive oil


Directions:


Preheat your oven to 300 degrees. Either grease a cookie sheet or line it with parchment paper and set aside.


In a large bowl, mix together your dry ingredients: oats, raisins, coconut, pecans, walnuts, almonds, flax seed, wheat germ, brown sugar, cinnamon and salt. Then add in your maple syrup and olive oil. Stir until mixture is evenly coated with syrup and oil.


Pour out onto cookie sheet and spread evenly. Bake in oven for 30 minutes, stirring once halfway through baking time. Allow to cook a bit and then, start snacking. Once cooled completely, store in an air-tight container. Enjoy.....


Yield: 5 cups or so






Crunchy Granola Oatmeal Cookies
Inspired by Mrs. King's Irresistibles in Rose's Christmas Cookies


Obviously, I used the homemade granola I had made at home but you can use store-bought granola. Just make sure it's unsweetened or lightly-sweetened or it will be too sugary. If your granola does not have any nuts in it, you might want to consider decreasing the granola amount to 1 1/2  cups and adding in 1 cup of your favorite toasted nuts...walnuts, pecans, almonds.




Ingredients:


2 c homemade granola *see note above
1 c old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 c semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 2/3 c all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 c brown sugar, firmly packed
3/4 c granulated sugar
1 c unsalted butter, softened
2 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract




Directions:


Preheat oven to 375 degrees.


Into a small bowl, pour in your flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Whisk together well. Set aside.


In a mixing bowl, beat your sugars until well blended. Add in your butter and beat until smooth and creamy. Scraping down the sides. Beat in your eggs and vanilla until well incorporated. At low speed, add your flour mixture and mix just until combined. With a wooden spoon or spatula, gently fold in your granola, oats and chocolate chips just until evenly distributed in the dough.


Drop the dough by large, rounded tablespoons onto ungreased cookie sheets, 1-2 inches apart. Bake for 12-15 minutes or just until the tops are turning light brown. (Better to underbake than overbake.)


Cool for a few minutes on the cookie sheet, then, transfer the cookies to wire racks to cool completely.


Can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for a few weeks or in the freezer for several months.


Enjoy.....


Yield: About 3 dozen








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Thank you, thank you, my dear friends!


I can hardly believe it but this post marks my 99th. Holy Catfish, is all I can say!! Holy Catfish and thank you! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for reading my musings (especially when I get a little long-winded.) For trying out my recipes. For kindly viewing my photographs. For buying my calendars. For thoughtfully letting me know when something I wrote made you laugh or cry. When you thought a photograph was "extra-purdy." Or a recipe extra-scrumptious.


I must do something extra-special for the 100th post. You deserve it. I deserve it. But what?


xoxo
Carrie






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A Quick Note


Just in case you were curious...my all time favorite parenting books are from the Positive Discipline series. A dear friend of mine who is a teacher turned me on to them when my eldest was still a baby. Of course, as with any type of advice book, I don't necessarily agree with everything the author has to say...but definitely with most of it. I just recently bought the Positive Discipline for Teenagers. So telling....eh?  The author uses the word "discipline" in its true sense and that is, "to teach." And really, as parents, that's what we are...teachers. Right? Well, sometimes I'm a pack mule too, but that's a different story.






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AM Northwest


Stopped by AM Northwest last week to mix up a pot of Hearty Lentil Soup with Helen and Dave. Was a hoot, as always.







If a video screen does not appear above this line, click here to be taken directly to the site.
















All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

Simple Little Ginger Crisps

If you'd like, cue up, Christmas Time is Here.....

I watched her walk toward me through the snow. Snow at least 2 feet deep. Deep by Portland standards. A steaming mug of tea precariously balanced in each hand. A few tense minutes later she successfully arrived at my front porch and handed me one of the mugs. We sat down in the weathered adirondack chairs. We chatted. My neighbor and I. We watched our children build their snowmen and engineer their sledding jumps. We enjoyed these cups of black tea with a pinch of cardamon and a smidge of milk. Something so seemingly simple and yet, she was sharing with me, the way her Persian mother makes tea for her. I was touched.

"Carrie," she said to me tapping me on my hip. "Are we going to have those drinks again?" I must have looked puzzled so my 6-year old neighbor continued. "Remember, the ones in the Santa cup? The ones with the sprinkles on top? Those drinks we had last year." "Oh...the egg nog." Every Christmas growing up, my Granny served her grandchildren egg nog in Santa cups, complete with a dash of nutmeg on top. Those mugs were eventually passed down to me. I continue the tradition. Nothing fancy. Egg nog bought from a store. A pinch of nutmeg. But always in the Santa cup. Last year, I had set out a round of egg nog for the neighbor kids as they decorated cookies. Such a simple thing. But, remembered.

With the hustle and bustle of getting ready for the holidays upon me, I struggled with what to feed my boys who were apparently "famished" from the long day at school. It had to be quick. It had to be mess-free. I grabbed the corn chips, a can of black beans, some grated sharp cheddar cheese. I quickly assembled some nachos, popped them in the microwave for 45 seconds and set them down for the boys with a scoop of salsa. A few hours later as I unpacked another box of Christmas decorations, my Kindergartner skips up to me and says, "Mom. I really like those nachos you make. I'm not just sayin' that. It's for real. I love 'em. Really. I'm not just sayin' that. I love beans. Really. This is for true. I'm not just sayin' it." And off he skippped.

We curled up on the couch. The winter sun was beaming through the window warming us. We each held a cup of peppermint tea. A plate of ginger crisps rested on the ottoman next to us. And she, my dear friend, talked. She, who just needed someone to listen. And somehow, that pretty little plate of cookies, took a sad moment and helped bring a little cheer. Nothing fancy. No elaborate frosting. No sprinkles or silver balls. Just a simple little cookie. But it was enough.

Sometimes, when I find myself at the height of holiday madness, embarking on yet another crazy project, I have to stop and ask, "Carrie, what are the bits and pieces of the holidays that people actually remember?"

Simple Little Ginger Crisps
Adapted from Cookie Cutter Ginger Crisps by Susan Branch

These really are so easy to make and they don't need any extra adornment. They are perfectly sweet as is. My favorite part about them is that they freeze really well. So, you could have a friend or two drop by unannounced over the holidays and before you panic as to what to set out for them to nibble on, you remember that you have Ginger Crisps in the freezer. By the time you've pulled some cookies out of the freezer, made everyone a cup of tea (or coffee would be good too) and set it all down in front of your guests, they are defrosted and ready to nibble. They are also nice alongside a little scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Ingredients:
1 c softened butter
1/2 c brown sugar, firmly packed
1/2 c sugar
1/3 c molasses
2/3 c light corn syrup
4 1/2 c flour (sifted if you have the time)
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 1/2 tsp ginger
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp ground cloves

Directions:
Begin by creaming your butter and sugars until light. 3-4 minutes. Then, add your molasses and corn syrup and mix well. Next, mix in your cinnamon, ginger, salt, baking soda and cloves and combine well.  Finally, add your flour, little bits at a time, ensuring that it is all incorporated into your mix. When it is finished being mixed, the dough should have a smooth appearance.

Wrap your dough in parchment paper or plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator to chill for at least an hour.

When you are ready to bake, preheat your over to 350 degrees. Roll your dough out on a lightly floured surface to less than 1/8 inch thick. Cut with floured cutters. I personally like to choose just one shape - little gingerbread men, scalloped edges, snowflakes. There is something pleasing about the repetition of a single design. Bake on greased cookie sheet, or one lined with silpat, for 8 min. Cool and store in an airtight container or freeze them. Enjoy.

Yield: 3 dozen or so depending on the size of your cookie cutter

Calendar Update:

The calendars are IN!!

And, I have to say they look quite lovely. A huge thank you to all of you who have already placed orders. I'm so touched. Truly.

Out of the 200 we had printed up, I have about 16 left so if you were hoping to get one, email me or get your order placed on Etsy soon. They are $15.00 a piece.

If this is the first time you're "hearing" about these calendars, below is the link to the original blog post explaining the calendars as well as the link to my Etsy "store."

http://www.lapommedeportland.com/2010/12/2011-la-pomme-de-portland-calendar.html

http://www.etsy.com/listing/63516254/2011-food-photography-calendar

All orders leaving the Portland area have been shipped. East Coast and Mid-West orders were mailed Friday, 12/10. All Southwest and West coast orders were mailed Saturday, 12/11, as well as a few Portland area orders. Everyone else, I will contact you on Monday or Tuesday for the "pick-up" schedule.

One last note, after the original 50 I had listed on Etsy sold, I've only been able to list 3 at a time. And being the Etsy rookie I am, I can't figure out how to change that. So, if by chance you want more than 3 calendars, email me and we will work it out so you don't get charged twice for shipping.
Email: carrieminns (at) me (dot) com



All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

A Marinara Sauce to Lighten a Heavy Mind

I sent my 10-year old off for Outdoor School this morning in the pouring down rain and deafening hail with a few tears and a little bundle of cookies. His apprehension was breaking my heart. My ever-so-cool and sporty guy is always very reserved about showing his true feelings. I could tell he was a little concerned about the whole trip since he appeared downstairs at 6:30 am, dressed with his coat on and a most concentrated and serious look painted on his face. Do you think he could sense, even in his sleep, that I had awoken at 4:30 am to the sound of rain pounding on my roof and spent the next hour and a half visualizing him sitting around a campfire, shivering like a wet dog, because he refused to put on the rain coat that we'd packed? This is what we mothers do to torture ourselves. And I know he was up at 6:30 am since I had finally hauled my bleary-eyed self out of bed at 6:00 am to make the aforementioned cookies I had promised to pack in his sack lunch. Why would I promise that? I don't even like to bake!

When I used to drop his older sister off at preschool, as soon as it was time for me to leave she would melodramatically burst into tears as if she would never see me again. The first few times this scene pulled at my heartstrings but quickly, it became just too over-dramatic. I would find myself fighting back the urge to call out, "Oh, for crying out loud. Pull yourself together, girl and get in there. I'm outta here." With the 10-year old, he was always more subtle. When I would turn to go, he would look at me with those deep, crystal clear brown eyes and say quietly, but with all the seriousness a 4-year old could muster, "So, are you leaving me here now?"

I know I've said this before and yes, I stole this line from my dear friend, Mara, but it bears repeating, "I should have been born Catholic I have so much guilt."

When I feel overwhelmed by maternal guilt, I can barely focus. Everything I had planned that day tends to go by the wayside as I let myself be consumed by thoughts of the forlorn child I left behind. Even knowing full well that he has most likely moved on and doesn't even remember his own mother's face let alone that he has reduced her day to guilt ridden amblings. Between squalls, downpours and hailstorms, I set out to check for damage in my yard...the first of many amblings. Branches and leaves littered the lawn. The beds that had been "weed free" thanks to a Mother's Day gift from my chickens and my sweetie were once again bearing a 5 o'clock green shadow. And then, out of the corner of my eye, my chive plants caught my eye. They were filling in again. There were even tiny little buds at their tips. And there, behind them, the first little blossoms on my climbing rose bush. So pink. So tiny. And further on, my herb boxes were starting to fill out. The oregano was almost spilling over the side. It was at that moment, trying to decide what I could make for dinner that would use up some oregano, when I put my worries about my sweet boy out of my mind and focused on something else.

While humming about to Summertime (wishful thinking) and stirring my marinara sauce, the phone rang. I picked it up and heard my out-of-breath boy say, "Hi Mom. How are you doing?" (Do you see how I've trained him to always, always ask me how I am before saying anything else? I mean, what could be more important than finding out how your mother is doing?) "I'm good. How are you doing? Are you having fun?" And then in a tone of pure, genuine joy he says to me all at once, "Oh, Mom, it's so fun. We just had dinner and we got to make our own hamburgers and we had rice crispy treats and Lay's. And we get to have cabin time and we named our cabin. And now we get to do singing and have a campfire. It's so fun. And the weather's been perfect. Cold but clear. I can even see blue sky now. It's so much fun, Mom." As he's speaking to me I find myself trying to swallow the lump in my throat so relieved I am that he's having a fabulous time. Do you see what motherhood does to us? One minute we're crying with them because they're sad. The next minute we're crying because they're happy. I know that somewhere along the way I'd been warned that the process of letting them go wouldn't be easy.

I'm so grateful that my guy spends his school days under the caring attention of an extraordinarily gifted educator. One who also happens to be my friend. And one who, in her infinite wisdom, knew I needed that phone call.


A Marinara Sauce to Lighten a Heavy Mind
Adapted from Marinara Sauce, Pasta and Co. By Request

I've been making this marinara sauce for years. The recipe comes from Seattle's original take-out foodshop, Pasta and Co. I really haven't made any changes to it other than using fresh herbs when I have them and sometimes I'll cut the wine in half and use chicken broth for the other half. Just cuz. This is a perfect sauce to make on a weeknight. It's super quick and you can use it so many ways. This particular night I served it over spinach raviolis but you could put it over straight pasta or saute up some chicken and spoon the sauce over that. Truth be told, my kids weren't thrilled with the ravioli choice but they scooped up the sauce and ate it like soup....it's that good. Also, one last note, this sauce should have a bright, almost tangy flavor. It's not meant to taste like a slow cooked one but feel free to add a pinch of sugar if it's a little too tangy. PS: This sauce freezes beautifully so feel free to double it and stick some away. I rarely do but maybe you're more organized than me.

Ingredients:
3 tbsp olive oil
3/4 tsp dried basil or 1 1/2 tbsp fresh
3/4 tsp dried oregano or 1 1/2 tbsp fresh
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 cups dry white wine (or 1 cup white wine and 1 cup chicken broth)
1 28-oz can crushed tomatoes (sometimes I use diced if that's what I have on hand)
1/2 tsp salt or to taste
optional: 1/2 tsp sugar

In a large, heavy saucepan, over medium heat, saute basil, oregano, red pepper flakes and garlic in olive oil for 1 to 2 minutes. Be careful not to brown the garlic.

Add wine (and chicken broth, if using) and simmer for 10-12 minutes until all the alcohol has evaporated.

Add tomatoes. Cover partially. Simmer over low heat for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Taste the sauce. Add salt to taste. Decide if you need to add a bit of sugar to mellow the acidity of the tomatoes and round out the sauce. If you do add the sugar, stir it in and simmer 1 to 2 minutes longer.

Enjoy.

Yield: 4 cups

PS: If you're looking for the cookie recipe, click here.

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies with Pecans and Dried Cherries (aka My Own "Bottle Cap")

All right, so last Monday morning wasn't exactly my proudest parenting moment. But you can't really blame me. No. It's not my fault how I was raised. You see, when I was young and my siblings and I would scrape a knee, cut a finger, crack our heads open or break an arm, my father would simply say to us, "Ah, come on. Put a bottle cap on it and let's go." Sometimes he'd have an actual bottle cap and sometimes it was just enough to say it. We never knew exactly what the bottle cap did but we were under the impression that it must hold some mystical healing powers since he said it so often.

Now, I can't say I use the actual bottle cap phrase on my own children (although he does) but having it said so much to me as a child has rendered me fairly impatient with situations involving injury or ailments. Oh sure, I'm good for the first 24 hours or so. Warm wash clothes on foreheads. The stroking of the hair. The head cocked sympathetically, as each ailment is communicated. The proper, "Oh, sweetie. I'm sorry you don't feel well." Deliveries of tea, ginger ale, toast and applesauce. But once the 24 hours is up, I've been known to say to an ailing child wanting my help, "Why don't you just go get a "bucket"?" or "You know where the band-aids and neosporin are." or "I don't know what to tell you. There's ginger ale in the fridge." Clearly, I'd never have made a good doctor or nurse. My sweetie has the better bedside manner and patience for matters such as these.

And so it was that my dear daughter contracted some version of a stomach virus that just went on and on and on. Week after week. Over 3 weeks to be exact. Of course, I felt for her. What could be worse but what about me? I could get absolutely nothing done. Especially with the false alarms where she'd think she felt well enough to go to school so I'd drive her there only to arrive at her school to find her pale as a ghost, flush and reaching for the bucket (even though this particular stomach virus never actually required the use of said "bucket.") So, back home we'd go. Practically an hour round trip. Then, being the trooper that she is, she'd want to try again at lunch time, bless her heart. I finally put an end to that. "If you don't go in the morning, we're not trying again later." I was spending my whole day in the car. My patience was waning and to top it off, I was starting to panic. "She's missed so much school. What if I can't get her to go back? Ever? And, I have to homeschool her?" God, help me.

Which brings us up to last Monday morning. Patience gone. Panic set in. Once again, I'd driven her to school only to arrive and have her say to me, "I just can't go in there. I don't feel well." At that exact moment, I thought I might lose my mind. I should have taken a cue from my father and said, "Well, sweetie, you're going to have to put a bottle cap on it. Now, grab your backpack and head on in." But, no. I have to launch into a speech in that "tone", you know the one, on how she's going to have to buck up. "Sometimes you just have to deal. We don't always feel good. You can be at home sitting in front of the TV, not feeling well or at school, sitting in a classroom in front of your teachers, not feeling well. What's the difference?!" On and on I went, stopping only when I finally noticed that my sweet girl had tears sliding down her face. Well, if that didn't just slap a load of guilt right on my back. Reluctantly and sheepishly, all at the same time, I pulled out of the drop-off line and into an actual parking spot. I pulled out my phone and called the doctor's office. I'm not one to ever take my children in to the doctor's office for run-of-the-mill childhood illnesses but I had to admit that this had lasted quite some time. Silently, we drove there. Me feeling like a selfish mother, she feeling...well, not good. As I thought, the doctor told us to just let it run its course but somehow, that seemed to make my daughter feel better.

Wednesday morning was glorious. The sun was out. The air was fresh from the recent rain. I was actually showered and dressed in something other than the standard issue black athletic wear. And, wonder of wonder, my daughter felt great. I had her loaded up along with the 5-year old and we were headed out of the neighborhood. And, not only that but, miracle of miracles, I was also going to get them there on time. For the first time in many weeks, everyone would be at school. I would have an entire day to myself. I could barely contain my excitement. Windows down. Music playing. Whistling. Humming. Toe tapping. And then, the phone rings. "Carrie, we have your son here in the office. He says his stomach isn't feeling well. We think you should come get him." If at that moment, I had a towel, I would have thrown it. I drove for a moment in disbelief and then, I slowly turned the car around. Picked up my guy. Settled him in at home. Dropped the other two at school and then, came home and made Chocolate and Cherry Oatmeal cookies. As I sank into the couch next to my buddy and devoured one after the other of these sinfully delicious little chewy bites of heaven, I told myself to buck up. "Ah, come on now. Put a bottle cap on it. What's a few more weeks?" Somehow, the cookies helped.

Chocolate Chunk Oatmeal Cookies with Pecans and Dried Cherries
(Adapted from Seven Spoons recipe of the same name)


Just like my nursing skills, I don't have a lot of patience with baking nuances as well. Below I've typed out how I made these cookies which turned out scrumptiously delicious but for you baking purists out there, here's a link to the original recipe in its entirety, with all of the proper little baking details included. I discovered this recipe last fall on Tara's delightful food blog, Seven Spoons, and have been waiting for just the right moment to make the chewy little morsels. Well, the moment presented itself. I made half of my batch with the pecans and half without, since my 10-year old is allergic to nuts. And, let me just say, unless you have the same nut issue, don't leave out the pecans. They are what takes a rather ordinary oatmeal cookie and elevates it to sinful. I loved them so much I made them twice...in two days.

Ingredients:
1 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
(I actually used half all-purpose and half whole-wheat pastry flour)
3/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 c unsalted butter, softened but not too warm
1 1/2 c packed dark brown sugar
1 large egg
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/4 c old-fashioned rolled oats
1 c pecans, toasted and chopped
1 c dried cherries chopped coarse (or cranberries, if you please)
3/4 cup dark chocolate chips, I used Guittard

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Use parchment paper to line several standard baking sheets and set aside.

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, cream together the butter and sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. Next, add the egg and vanilla and beat until incorporated.

Scrape down the sides of the bowl, turn the mixer down to low and add the flour mixture to the bowl. Stir until just combined. Then, with a wooden spoon, stir in the oats, nuts, cherries and chocolate and stir just until combined evenly throughout the dough.

Drop by tablespoons onto the cookie sheets at least 1 inch apart. Bake in the oven for about 10 minutes or until the cookies are uniformly golden, but still wet in the middle. You might think they're undercooked but they're not....resist the urge to overbake. They will set up further as they cool.

Remove from the oven and cool on the baking sheets for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. Store cooled cookies in an airtight container at room temperature.

Yield: about 2 dozen.


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

A Little Insurance Policy in the Form of Chocolate Chip Cookies

For months now, at the request of family members, friends, strangers even, we have dutifully removed our shoes and assumed the "back-to-back" position, while these...people, bent their knees, leveled off their point-of-view and eyeballed our heads. And then, rising back up, these same people would sigh and declare, "Nope. Not yet."

And so it was, the second week of January 2010, in the midst of making dinner on an already rushed school night, my sweetie says, "Hey, wait a minute, you two. Stand back to back." To which I replied, "I'm in the middle of making dinner." "Oh, it'll just take a second. Come on." I dutifully removed my shoes sensing there was no way out of it, turned my back and stood there staring straight ahead as my husband eyeballed our heads. Then, with a big grin on his face, he straightened back up and said, "Well, it's official. She's taller than you."

I always knew this day would be here. At least, I knew, hypothetically. All those years of playfully saying, "One day, you'll be bigger than Mommy." I could surmise. Make an educated guess...but I don't think I really knew what it would be like when it was truth. When my 12-year old daughter would literally have one up on me. No, not really. And so, here I am, on the other side of the yardstick and it's definitely a peculiar feeling. To no longer have that "physical stature" over another person especially one much, much younger than you. To have to reach up to hug your child. A bit surreal, I'd say.

While I do consider myself quite the foodie and try to keep my finger on the pulse of the "food world", I missed the heated fervor surrounding the infamous "New York Times Chocolate Chip Cookie" recipe last summer. Never heard a word about it. Not a peep. Could be that I don't bake. Not really. I don't have the patience for it. It's so exacting. I just want to toss in a little of this, a little of that. But, when my sweet, mother-in-law, whom I've talked about before here, emailed me the link to the recipe concurrently as the measuring of the heights was happening, one glance at the recipe and I knew...this was the answer.

Perhaps I was feeling a bit insecure about my new place in the line-up. Perhaps it wasn't insecurity so much as a little bit of wistfulness...she's growing up and there's no stopping it. We even have physical evidence, now, of this occurrence. While my kind and thoughtful mother kept a steady stream of snickerdoodle, oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip cookies going my entire childhood, my children have never known this cookie parade. So, the cookies, these NYT cookies, would be rather novel to them...or more specifically, her. It's not bribery. I'm not buying her love, her respect, her admiration. No, no, no. Nothing like that. I am still her mother, after all. I still have the power to take away her beloved cell phone, iPod, favorite pair of jeans, should the occasion present itself. She's too young to even get a job to support herself, for crying out loud...but, then again, no one can get a job right now...but that's beside the point. It's just insurance. A little tiny insurance policy I've written up on my own to the tune of...the way to a child's heart...

And, with that, I got down to business which was challenging to say the least. Baking requires intense concentration. Focused thinking. I am anything but focused. My time is always fractured...between constantly being interrupted by my lovely offspring and my brain that jumps around from thought to thought as if it were a flea, it's amazing I get anything done. And, then, the whole...dip and sweep method of measuring flour makes me crazy, but dip, I did. And I definitely don't sift but considering the circumstances, I dug my little sifter out from the hinterlands of my pantry while simultaneously searching for the "paddle" attachment for my mixer (not realizing that the "paddle" attachment is just the regular ole mixing attachment I've always used which looks nothing like a paddle.) And, then, I tried to stay focused on the directions..."two kinds of flour". Two kinds of flour! And, then, back and forth between my work station and the computer trying to read the recipe typed in what appeared to be an 8 point font and trying not to forget the quantity listed for my next ingredient during the 3 foot walk from the recipe back to the work station. Since my sifter is so small, I had to sift in batches which may defeat the whole purpose of sifting but I rather liked the little volcano-like pile forming on my cutting board which reminded me of Hawaii, which made me think of sun, which caused me to look hopefully outside the window...nope, still gray.

One thing you should know about me, dear friend, is that even though I don't bake much, when I bake chocolate chip cookies, I require a specific "dough-to-chocolate" ratio. The first time I made these cookies (yes, I've made them more than once), I followed this bloggers advice and just dumped two bags of the Ghirardelli 60% cacao chips in. Waaaaay too much chocolate in my opinion. If I wanted that much chocolate, I'd just break off part of a bar, which is healthier for you anyways. No. If I'm going to go to the trouble of making myself a sugary, buttery, white flour concoction then, I sure as heck better taste the sugar, butter and flour.

On my second round of making this little recipe and adjusting the chocolate quantity, my daughter arrived home from school, twirls into the kitchen and says, "Mom, whatcha makin'?" No response from me but upon seeing me at work says, "Oh, wow. Cookies again?"Okay, so maybe I've roused a bit of suspicion with my seemingly, sudden interest in baking, but she'll never know. Not really. Unless, of course, you tell her. So, don't. Mum's the word.

The next morning, bright and early, there I am again baking cookies. (The dough lasts forever.) My daughter thumps down the stairs and again says, "Wow, Mom. More cookies...um, thanks." To which I say, poker-faced, "Why don't you take some of these cookies to school and give them out to your friends? We'll never eat all of these." Do you see how sly and subtle that was? Now, I have just added extra insurance to my policy by hooking the friends.

On the way up to bed last night, my daughter snatches the last of the cookies. A half a cookie to be exact. She hollers out to me as she climbs the stairs, "Mom, I can't stop eating these cookies. They are so good. Oh, and Mom, my friends devoured the cookies. They just loved them." I tried to suppress the little knowing smile upon hearing this. "Ahh...my work here is done." Well, not done exactly...but, put in motion. No matter how "big" she gets, she'll keep coming home for more of these cookies...at least, that's the plan...my little, tiny...insurance plan.

The New York Times Chocolate Chip Cookies

If I may...I suggest reading this recipe in its entirety before you take on making it...no matter how desperate you may be for your own "insurance policy." They are unbelievably scrumptious. That perfect combination of just a slight crunch of the crust to a gooey, chocolaty, buttery inside. Heaven. But, to arrive at this state of near perfection, requires a "resting period of 24 to 72 hours" for the dough. For more details into the hows and whys of the "resting period", click here. Otherwise, carry on.....

2 cups minus 2 tbsp cake flour

1 2/3 cups bread flour

1 1/4 tsp baking soda

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1 1/2 tsp coarse salt

2 1/2 sticks (1 1/4 cups) unsalted butter, softened, room temp

1 1/4 cups light brown sugar

1 cup plus 2 tbsp granulated sugar

2 large eggs

2 tsp natural vanilla extract

1 1/4 pounds bittersweet chocolate disks, feves or chips, at least 60 percent cacao

(Ghiardhelli makes a 60% chip you can find in most grocery stores. I used one 12 oz bag of Whole Foods 365 brand of dark chocolate chips, originally, but my new favorite for these is a 12 oz bag of Guittard, extra-dark chocolate chips, 63% cacao.)

Sea salt

Sift flours, baking soda, baking powder and salt into a bowl. Set aside. (Or, you may choose to bag this step and just dump these ingredients all in at the end. It depends on your situation.)

Using a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream butter and sugars together until very light, about 5 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Stir in the vanilla. Reduce speed to low, add dry ingredients and mix until just combined, 5 to 10 seconds. Drop chocolate pieces in and incorporate them without breaking them. Press plastic wrap against dough and refrigerate for 24 to 36 hours. Dough my be used in batches, and can be refrigerated for up to 72 hours.

When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a nonstick baking mat. Set aside.

Scoop mounds of dough, approximately the size of golf balls, onto baking sheet. Sprinkle lightly with sea salt and bake until golden brown but still soft, 18 to 20 minutes. I find that 14 minutes is the perfect amount of time for these cookies but I may not make them as large as the original recipe writers. I then let them cool on the sheet for about a minute or so and then, transfer them to a wire rack to cool a bit more, if someone doesn't come by and swipe one or two...or three, before the requisite cooling period is over. As the original recipe says, "Eat warm, with a big napkin." And, I'd add....."and, a tall, glass of milk." Enjoy....

NOTE: Since I posted this I have a few tips.....Make sure that ALL of your ingredients are at room temperature before mixing the dough up. Also, I did happen to make a "quick" batch in which I let the dough rest for only 12 hours and while they were delicious and devoured, they weren't near as heavenly as the ones I let "rest" for 48 hours.

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

A Plate Full of Cookies.....

Portland had been frozen over by one of our annual ice storms but I bravely stepped into my car. Slowly and carefully, I made my way across town. A virtual ice pond. The streets were all but deserted. An odd stillness to the city surrounded me. My trek across town seemed suspicious. As though I shouldn't be out on the streets and shouldn't I know that. But, I had to get there. I had to get my plate of Christmas cookies.

One year, the hill to my home rendered me unable to make the journey but two days later, my plate full of cookies was hand delivered.

Last year, after a foot (or two) of snow was dumped on the city leaving everyone stranded at home, my box of cookies arrived via the only group known to deliver through "sleet and snow"...that, of course, being the US Postal Service.

Every year without fail, one of my oldest and dearest friend...oldest as in, she's known me over half my life. As in, there are no pretensions because there is nothing to hide. As in, when I am in her presence I am nothing but me...spends 48 straight hours in the kitchen with her mother, baking batch after batch of Christmas cookies and candy. Ten, fifteen, twenty different kinds. "What do they do with all of those scrumptious little bites?" you may ask. Why, after the baking marathon is over, they invite over their friends and family to bring a plate and fill it up with their little "labors of love"...as my mother would say.

This year, we, my daughter and I, splashed our way across town. We shared a cup of coffee, a cup of cider. We taste-tested the delectable goods. We admired the Christmas tree. We chatted with my dear friend, her mother and her darling, Christmas-sweater clad Granny who was still making it to the cookie party even after a century in this life. We filled our plate to the brim and an extra one with just my favorite...the almond roca. Hugs good-bye and "Merry Christmas" wished to all. We dashed out the door to the car managing to keep our treats safe from the rain.

My daughter clutched the precious plate of cookies as we drove off for home. And then, she says to me, with a hint of amazement and genuine gratitude in her voice, "Mom, that was so...so...generous of her." I turned to her and replied, "That was generous, wasn't it?" And, we continued to ponder on that act of generosity, as we sped toward home where the boys were certain to be waiting for this year's plate of cookies.

Hoping a plate full of generosity arrives at your home this holiday season and follows you throughout the New Year. "See" you in 2010, my friends!

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Skippin' Down the Trail Oatmeal Cookies

Remember when you could run with wild abandon down the trail and your only concern was whether or not you might slip on the gravel under foot?

Although, perhaps that hadn't even entered your mind but was simply the worry of the mother watching from behind. The mother torn between the image of you there, running, without a care in the world and bracing herself for the wipe-out she is sure will come.

And so, run, hop, skip you do. The wind blowing against your face. The fallen leaves crackling under your feet. Gravity spinning your little legs faster and faster. You turn back to the mother still taking it all in. "Come on, Mom!" you holler. "I'm beating you." And, the mother simply smiles.

You turn off the main trail and make one final push up the ever narrowing path to emerge at your big brother's school. The brother you've been patiently waiting for all day. Waiting to play with him. To talk to him. To simply be next to him. And before you even have a chance to set foot on the actual school grounds, you discover that big brother has already made it to the entrance of the path. In a blur, he blows right past you. "Wait for me!" you holler as you spin around as quickly possible.

Down below, big brother has already jumped onto the main trail and in big brother fashion declares, "I won!" You power down the path, hoping desperately to catch up with him, crying out, "No, you didn't. It's not a race. Hey, wait for me!"

Once on the main trail, big brother has slowed down, allowing you to catch up. He puts his arm around you.

You prepare yourself for the brotherly hug that you're sure is about to come, when he leans over and gives you an affectionate noogie on the head instead.

For the remainder of the walk home, you are absorbed in all that is your big brother. You scamper down the steep hills with him. You toss a rock in the creek, when he tosses a rock in the creek. You try to stay with him as he hops up the stairs. You let him hold your hand and guide you safely across the street. You are grateful when he slows down his gait to stay with you as your smaller legs become weary. You ask him question after question of all that is on your mind and he patiently answers each and every one.

As you near the front door, a faint whiff of cinnamon and toasted nuts, reminds you to turn and look at the mother, still watching from behind. With a melt-your-heart grin, you earnestly call out to your brother, "Hey, guess what Mom made for snack?" "What?" "Cookies." "No way! Awesome!"

You and your brother, push your way through the barely opened door, toss off your shoes and race to the cooling cookies. Trying to civilize you, the mother from "behind", beckons you over to the table, puts your cookies on a plate and, trying to ward off the chill from this blustery weather, places down a mug of hot apple cider in front of you. You glance up to say, "Thank you" and then, your attention turns back to your big brother who continues to answer all of the questions you had saved up all day...just for him.

Skippin' Down the Trail Oatmeal Cookies

I have been starting to play around with whole wheat pastry flour and with fall firmly upon us, I have been craving oatmeal cookies. So, using the original Quaker Oats Oatmeal Raisin Cookie recipe, I came up with this version...which my children inhaled and paid no heed to the healthy stuff lurking inside.

1 c butter, softened (2 sticks)

3/4 c firmly packed brown sugar

1/2 c granulated sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

1 1/2 c whole wheat pastry flour such as Bob's Red Mill

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp salt (optional)

3 c old-fashioned rolled oats

1 c raisins

1 c walnuts

1/4 c unsweetened, shredded coconut

Heat oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl, stir together flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat together butter and sugars until creamy. Add eggs and vanilla, beat well. Add the flour mixture and stir just until combined. With a wooden spoon, stir in oats, raisins, walnuts and coconut until incorporated.

Drop by rounded tablespoons onto an ungreased cookie sheet.

Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown.

Cool 1 minute on cookie sheet; remove to wire rack.

Yield: About 3 dozen.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009