Me at home in December = major league cooking. Emma Kate is now a culinary genius! We've whipped up 14 meals worth of Ina Garten's Chicken Chili (yum!) and today completed six meals worth of delictable italian sausage spaghetti.
It took loads of self-control not to eat bowls full of it. I do have a serious love of all things pig. There is nothing like mild italian sausage links simmering away in rich tomato sauce to take me right back to my childhood and many a birthday dinner.
I recall selecting spaghetti year after year. I'm reliable that way.
I won't tell you about the year I
There's nothing like homemade. Nothing.
Earlier in the week, however, we had a culinary disaster. Tracy, gird yourself if you are reading. Don't faint.
Ohio Buckeyes. Not the football team, the dessert. Have you had one? Oh, my word.
The aforementioned dearest friend (Tracy) who is a true blue Ohioan introduced us to them. And then gave us the recipe. And then we've eaten loads of them ever since.
However. This year I decided I was too cool to sift. So I guesstimated, in a highly scientific way, mind you. Really. It was very precise.
"Rudolph the Red Nosed Rindeer" features the "Island of Misfit Toys". You know it, right? We've all seen that movie.
Welllllllll. This year the boys have dubbed our Buckeyes, the second batch of cookies to go to the platter specifically reserved now as the "island of misfit cookies".
I used WAY too much powdered sugar, I think. They are sooooo soft, even when frozen they become disgustingly soft immediately upon settling onto the serving plate.
Emma Kate would not even let the dough touch her little hand to round into a ball. We were all covered in a gooey mess of peanut butter dough that was much more akin to glue. But we persevered! We might not be the brightest lot, but we are cheery. Give us adversity and we'll make something of it.
This time, that meant dipped softened dough balls that really, no one wanted to eat. They sort of plopped down onto the tray and then melted out into interesting shapes. Wait, I take that back. The boys still wanted to eat them, they will never pass up a sugar infusion.
The island of misfit cookies also features some of the Swedish Crescents that didn't pass lovingly through my hands, and instead met the handiwork of my older two who quickly smirked everytime I looked their way and kept whispering, "Swedish croissants".
I'll let you imagine.
Nana, I promise there are actual cookies that pass muster for Christmas Eve. Truly!
So goes December. I think a baking, cooking frenzy is keeping us all entertained and in fine winter form. With Cooper and Jeb determined to burn 4,000 calories a day on Nordic, they are certain they need to ingest vast quantities of Christmas cookies and the like.
Emma Kate is happy to dine herself! Each evening we gather after everyone is back in the nest for a family advent devotional and end with - you guessed it - cookies.
Hopefully the Word is as sweet to my children as the cookies. :)
There you have it. Randomness from the cold, frigid north!
2 comments:
It was the year l969 and long before ultrasounds so the exact birth date of our dear baby was a guesstimate by the World Famous Mayo Clinic doctors. We were told not to leave town for Thanksgiving as baby bunting DeBoer would arrive any day. Well, days went by and no sweet baby even acting like it wished to meet us. I stood on Broadway in downtown Rochester with my stomach protruding out from my green wool Loden coat as the snow fell from the sky and I could not see my feet to make sure I did not slip or fall. I of course had come from one more weekly appointment at the clinic where there only interest was how much weight I had gained since my prior weeks visit. They could not figure out why I was suddenly gaining so much weight......that was in the days we were only to gain 15 to 20 pounds in our entier pregnancy. Well, sitting at home with nothing to do and Christmas approaching I turned to baking . BAKING every kind of Christmas cookie my mother had ever made and also some new varieties. With baking comes eating. That sweet elderly nurse who weighed me in each week told me to quit baking and not to eat another cookie. Sweet Baby Sara was born December 21 after surviving nearly 20 days of a sugar high. No wonder she weighed 8 pounds 3 ounces and was peeling her beautiful baby skin as she was overdue and did not want to leave that sweet sugar filled womb. Thus Christmas cookies are a family tradition at our house.
Love the story, Gogo!
That makes so many things about Sara make so much better sense.....like how utterly sweet (and sassy) she is....Carry on DeBoer girls......keep up the good baking!!!
Christine
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