A Fragrant Oatmeal with Cinnamon Apples to Enjoy During the Quiet Moments

"Well, we're in the midst of it." You hear yourself say to yourself with a sigh. Winter Break. Christmas Vacation. The "Holidays". And, you want to be that Mom. Really you do. You know, the one who is fun all the time. But you see, you have a "noise aversion". And with each day that draws Christmas nearer your children become that much more excitable. Louder. And you become that much more irritable. Cranky. But, you can't really be angry with them. No. Because they are truly just giddy with glee. And you want to feel their glee but all you feel is the pounding.

The pounding brought on by your sweet 13-year old daughter, who for no real apparent reason other than sheer joy, starts running through the house. And, at almost 5 feet 8 inches tall....bless her heart....well, those are loud footsteps. And of course, her brothers who adore her every move (especially the 11-year old) start following her, swinging over the furniture like chimpanzees. And then the 5-year old, who isn't quite as adept at the "swinging" as his older brother, gets stuck atop a chair and almost knocks over a snow globe as he tries to swing his leg around...a gigantic snow globe. (Never mind the fact that they are not even supposed to be "climbing on the furniture".) It's at that instant that you feel the stress level in your body move up a notch.

But somehow you keep moving forward. Stress and all. Checking things off your list. And you manage to get everyone into bed after which you collapse into yours and fall sound asleep. Only to wake up at 5:30am thinking about what you need to get done that day.

So, you quietly slip out from under the covers and head downstairs. You flick on the lights of the Christmas tree which sparkle against the windows and a still dark sky. You sit down at your worn kitchen table...the one that has stoically held up after years and years of "art" projects....with your cup of tea. In the background, your current favorite rendition of Silent Night is playing. Silent Night. Your favorite Christmas carol. The one you sing to your 5-year old every time you tuck him in. The one you used to sing to your older children until it was too awkward to tuck them in with a lullaby. And you enjoy the stillness of the moment.

It's not long before you hear a door open and then, the sound of lego pieces "clicking" against each other. The 5-year old is up. You rise from your seat and head into the kitchen. As you stand at the counter slicing apples and pears, you notice that the sky is starting to brighten. Your slices quietly saute in butter, brown sugar and cinnamon and your oatmeal gently gurgles next to them. Your two eldest slip down the stairs...awoken by the warm smells. They both have those sleepy eyes. You know the ones. Those eyes, no matter how old they get, are the same ones that looked at you when they were sleepy babies.

You call them over to the table and set down bowls of oatmeal topped with the cinnamon apples in front of them. Your husband kisses you on the cheek as he heads off to work and for just a moment, everyone is awake and everyone is calm.

And then, the sugar from the apples hits their systems and its back to swinging over the furniture but you tell yourself you can persevere through the chaos because you know tomorrow morning, a little slice of calm will be waiting for you.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas...Happy Holidays...Season's Greetings! Wherever you are and whatever you may celebrate, I hope a little bit of silence finds you amidst the bustle of the holiday season.


I'll "see" you after we ring in 2011. Happy New Year!

Fragrant Oatmeal Topped with Spiced Apples

I love oatmeal. It's probably my favorite breakfast dish. I'm always trying to find ways to entice the kids to eat the homemade version as opposed to the kind that comes in a little packet. They LOVED this. If you don't like your oatmeal too "milky", you can always substitute water for the milk. I prefer that my oatmeal isn't too sugary but you can add more honey if you like yours fairly sweet. Also, you can substitute the apples with a good baking pear such as Bosc if you'd like.

Ingredients:
1 c milk
1/2 to 1 c water (less water equals a thicker oatmeal)
1 c rolled oats
A pinch of kosher salt
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 tsp honey
2 tbsp unsalted butter
2 baking apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced (Braeburn, Golden Delicious, Honeycrisp, etc.)
2 tbsp light brown sugar (I didn't pack mine down too tightly.)
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp ground allspice
1/8 tsp ground cloves

Optional: toasted walnut pieces

Directions:
In a medium saucepan over medium heat, bring your milk, water and salt to a boil. Stir in your oats and vanilla. Reduce heat and let simmer on very low heat 5-15 minutes depending on the consistency that you like your cereal. Stirring occasionally. Once it's done cooking, stir in your honey, remove from heat and set aside.

Meanwhile, in a large non-stick pan, melt your butter. Add your apples, brown sugar, cinnamon, allspice and cloves. Saute, stirring occasionally, until your apples are tender, about 5 minutes.

Spoon your oatmeal evenly into four bowls. Top with your cinnamon apples and sprinkle with walnuts, if desired. Enjoy....

Yield: 4 small bowls of oatmeal or two large ones







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

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