You will note that the word ‘law’ is contained within the word ‘coleslaw’.  That is because [...]]]> After my admonition to remember coleslaw and beans in the Corn Dog Bread post I realized something; I had loads of bean recipes here on Foodie With Family, but not one single coleslaw.  That was a problem requiring an immediate remedy.

You will note that the word ‘law’ is contained within the word ‘coleslaw’.  That is because it is the law that you need to have coleslaw with summer classic meals; corn dogs, barbecued brisket or ribs, grilled chicken, and the like.  You can even go to jail if you fail to serve coleslaw with hamburgers*!

*That might not be strictly true, but it should be.

How have I gone so long without sharing my favorite coleslaw recipe with you?  I should be strung up by my toes and given fifty lashes with a wet noodle.  I am contrite.

This recipe came to me years ago from Val and we’ve been making it religiously ever since.  I should have the recipe memorized at this point, but the little cobwebby corners of my brain have been filled with knowledge helpful to tasks like not tripping over shoes in the middle of the floor, remembering to sweep the chair free of Legos before lowering myself into it, making the kids lock the chickens safely in the coop at night, and releasing the parking brake before easing Hannibal* out of the driveway.

*Hannibal is the new-to-us big burgundy passenger van we recently acquired.  It’s big, people.  Big big.  As in crossing the Alps on an elephant big. In fact, one friend pointed out how we would be providing a boost to the economy every time we filled the tank.  And her son helpfully mentioned that if I ever got confused after shopping I would have no trouble finding the van since all I had to think was, “Oh!  I know!  It’s the MASSIVE PURPLE VAN! It’s right THERE!” And I feed this child on occasion.  Why I oughta…

As I was saying, I should have this recipe long since memorized.  This means that I do not.  Thankfully, Val is on my speed dial. I use this speed dial very, very often.  In fact, the number assigned to her on my phone is starting to wear off and the phone is less than two months old. My itchy dialing finger may account for the fact that Val dropped her phone into the toilet this week thereby rendering the boys and me incapable of annoying her every fifteen minutes with ridiculous puns and questions like, “Do you remember that one thing we ate that one time at that one place?  Do you still have the recipe for it?”

Mercifully, step-maternal guilt kept her from happily taking a breather from our near-constant barrage against her peace; she kept her email window open the whole time.  And so, not even five minutes after a panicked email reading something like this:

“Hey!  Remember the cranberry coleslaw you make?  Do you still have the recipe?  I can’t find mine anywhere!”

Val kindly responded with the necessary ingredient list and equally kindly avoided mentioning that she gives me this recipe once quarterly on average.  And once again, she saved my dinner and life was good.

At least you didn’t know what you were missing, because if you’ve been having plain old coleslaw all this time, you are about to be pleasantly surprised.  I’m talking about Cranberry Coleslaw. I have to admit, the first time Val made this lo these many years ago I thought maybe she had jumped the shark.  The thought of stirring dried cranberries and almonds or sunflower seeds into a creamy coleslaw momentarily fired up my latent inner picky-eating 8 year old.  But then I remembered that Val has  never -for as long as I have known her-  presented me with something to eat that was anything shy of delicious.  After the first bite I stuffed my inner picky eater back into the box with a stern warning and a reminder that I’m a grown up now. I was convinced.  Cabbage and dried cranberries were meant to be together.  Sweet and tart cranberries turned out to be the perfect pairing for peppery and crunchy cabbage.  And when it was topped with a tangy, slightly honey-sweetened dressing and almonds or sunflower seeds it absolutely sang. Who knew?  Well, I mean aside from Val?

Are you ready for my usual “But wait!  There’s more!”? It’s healthy! It’s really, really good for you.  Because you replace all but a minute amount of the normal mayonnaise with Greek yogurt this is a coleslaw that you can eat with reckless abandon*. By using Greek yogurt, you preserve all the creaminess you would’ve had with mayonnaise but avoid all the fat and calories.  Can I get a “Glory, hallelu!”?

*I know, I know.  I say that a lot.  But I like eating with reckless abandon, so in all likelihood I’ll keep saying it.  Just so’s you know…

You can definitely do worse things than make a double batch.  It tastes better and better in the refrigerator.  In fact, as I type this, I’m tucking into a bowl of three day old coleslaw and it. is. amazing.  So if you were looking for a good coleslaw (or even if you weren’t) to go with your Corn Dog Bread, look no further.

For a printer friendly, photo-free version of this recipe, click here!

Cranberry Coleslaw: Printer Friendly Version

Adapted from Valerie Daly’s recipe

Ingredients:

• 1 pound bagged cabbage and carrot coleslaw mix (or 6 cups mixed shredded  cabbage and carrots)
• 1/2 cup Greek yogurt
• 1 Tablespoon mayonnaise
• 1 Tablespoon honey
• 1 Tablespoon lemon juice or white wine vinegar
• 1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon celery seed
• 1/4 cup plus 1 Tablespoon dried cranberries
• 2 Tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon shelled sunflower seeds or slivered almonds

Use a whisk to combine yogurt, honey, lemon juice (or vinegar), salt, pepper, and celery seed to make the dressing.  Set aside.

Add coleslaw vegetables to a mixing bowl.  Toss in 1/4 cup of the cranberries and 2 Tablespoons of the sunflower seeds.  Pour the dressing over the slaw and toss to coat completely.  Transfer to a serving dish and scatter reserved cranberries and sunflower seeds over the top.  Store leftovers, tightly lidded, in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.

“To which it do you refer?” I inquired.

“IT!” said Luke.

Luke was referring to this.

This sandwich blew my mind. It was the perfect sandwich. I do not use the phrase ‘perfect sandwich’ lightly. It is a very serious appellation to [...]]]> This last week, my baby brother Luke told me admiringly that I had finally done it.

“To which it do you refer?” I inquired.

“IT!” said Luke.

Luke was referring to this.

This sandwich blew my mind. It was the perfect sandwich. I do not use the phrase ‘perfect sandwich’ lightly. It is a very serious appellation to give a sandwich*. This one earned it.

*Could I possibly use the word ‘sandwich’ any more? There just doesn’t seem to be any way around it. And so I’d like every single English and composition teacher reading this to take a muscle relaxant right now to help them get through the rest of this post without cringing themselves into spasms.

Let me tell you what makes this bad boy so very bad*. The sandwich is built of naan brushed with ghee, tandoori style grilled chicken, cucumber and yogurt salsa, crunchy pickled onion rings and candied jalapenos. Un-bloody-believably delicious. The Evil Genius declared it to be ‘A Second-to-Naanwich’.

*Bad in a good way. As in phat. Not fat. It’s totally fly. I should probably stop now. Fo shizzle.

Every single component of this sandwich was made from scratch. Okay, so I didn’t grow the lettuce greens, spices or the chicken, but shy of that, all homemade. And over the next few posts, I will give you the recipes to make each component needed to reproduce this amazing sandwich in your own kitchen.

Even though this sandwich alone is worth the work of making each of these building blocks, you’re not just canning, yogurt, bread, and grilling for one purpose. Each of the ingredients can be used for multiple recipes. This is a springboard recipe. Once you’ve mastered each component, the world is your oyster. Are you ready for the first part? Here we go!

We’re starting with Candied Jalapenos for a very good reason. After being made, they need to sit for at least two weeks before you crack open the jar to start eating them. And by need, I mean it’s strictly optional, but you’ll be glad that you did. The flavors need time to meld and marry.

Candied Jalapenos. Ah. There’s a story here. A couple months ago, my friend Katie casually mentioned eating a sandwich made with candied jalapenos. She was singing the praises of what she described as an addictive jar of goodies. Then she said the magic words, “I wish I could figure out how to make these at home.” By this point, you know me enough to know what affect that statement has on me, right?  I quizzed her on the texture, flavor, and appearance of the jalapeno rings. I begged for photographs. I had her send me a picture of the ingredient list on the label. I asked her to describe the flavor to the very best of her food blogging abilities. She was game. She provided all the information and even sent a link to a recipe that she thought looked like it would come close to the benchmark for her.

After carefully examining close to thirty recipes on candied jalapenos (who KNEW there were so many people candying jalapenos?) I called my local Cooperative Extension office to pick the brain of their home food preservation specialists. Since jalapenos are a low-acid food, some precautions need to be taken when canning them. You have two choices for safely canning peppers of any kind; you can pressure can them or you can acidify (i.e. add vinegar, lemon juice, etc…) the liquid in which you pack the peck of pickled peppers.

I opted for acidifying the pepper liquid because I wanted to maintain some of the texture of the peppers through the process.  Pressure canning these would turn them to flavorful mush.  The result was gobsmackingly, head-spinningly, brain-addlingly delicious.  Sweet, spicy and savory, candied jalapeno rings are way too easy to eat on just about everything.  I’ve stashed them in sandwiches, chopped them up on baked beans, tucked them into tacos, used the syrup to brush meat on the grill, perched a couple rings on top of a cream cheese laden cracker and all sorts of other evil things.

For such a simple thing to can, these pack tons of flavor.  You’re going to want to make as many of these as you possibly can simultaneously, because once that first jar is cracked open you’re not going to be able to stop eating them.  And I mean it.

Hey!  Don’t forget to come back over the next few days to get the other components to my Second-to-Naanwich.  You will love me.  That’s a promise.

For a printer-friendly, photo-free version of this recipe, click here!

Candied Jalapenos (Cowboy Candy)

Yield: About 9 half-pint jars of Candied Jalapenos plus additional jalapeno syrup.

Ingredients:

• 3 pounds fresh, firm, jalapeno peppers, washed
• 2 cups cider vinegar
• 6 cups white granulated sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
• 1/2 teaspoon celery seed
• 3 teaspoons granulated garlic
• 1 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper

Wearing gloves, remove the stems from all of the jalapeno peppers.  The easiest way to do this is to slice a small disc off of the stem-end along with the stem.  Discard the stems.

Slice the peppers into uniform 1/8-1/4 inch rounds.  Set aside.

In a large pot, bring cider vinegar, white sugar, turmeric, celery seed, granulated garlic and cayenne pepper to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes.  Add the pepper slices and simmer for exactly 4 minutes.  Use a slotted spoon to transfer the peppers, loading into clean, sterile canning jars to within 1/4 inch of the upper rim of the jar.

Turn heat up under the pot with the syrup and bring to a full rolling boil.  Boil hard for 6 minutes.

Use a ladle to pour the boiling syrup into the jars over the jalapeno slices to within 1/4-inch of the rim.  Insert a cooking chopstick to the bottom of the jar two or three times to release any trapped pockets of air.  Adjust the level of the syrup if necessary.  Wipe the rims of the jars with a clean, damp paper towel and fix on new, two-piece lids to finger-tip tightness.

*If you have leftover syrup, and it is likely that you will, you may can it in half-pint or pint jars, too.  It’s wonderful brushed on meat on the grill or added to potato salad or, or, or…  In short, don’t toss it out!

Place jars in a canner, cover with water by 2-inches.  Bring the water to a full rolling boil.  When it reaches a full rolling boil, set the timer for 10 minutes for half-pints or 15 minutes for pints.  When timer goes off, use canning tongs to transfer the jars to a cooling rack.  Leave them to cool, undisturbed, for 24 hours.  When fully cooled, wipe them with a clean, damp washcloth then label.

Allow to mellow for at least two weeks, but preferably a month before eating. Or don’t.  I won’t tell!

If you’ve been with me here at Foodie With Family for a while [...]]]> If I live to be a thousand years old I will never exhaust the possibilities offered by beans.  And what is there not to like about beans? They are- all at once- so inexpensive, so nutritious, so easy to store, so delicious, so versatile.

If you’ve been with me here at Foodie With Family for a while you’re pretty familiar with my adoration of beans.  They’re a quick, filling, el-cheapo way to feed a growing family.

“Quick?  Beans? Well, surely you aren’t making them from the dried state,” sayeth the doubting crowd.  Ah, but yes.  Yes, I am.  And here is where this post morphs from singing the praises of beans to evangelizing about canning.  Pressure canning, specifically.  And this requires a diversion of some length from beans…

Even if you were raised in a family who canned a great deal of food (as I was) chances are you heard something like this regarding pressure canning, “Pressure canners are DANGEROUS!  My Aunt Bertha had one explode on her once.  She leapt in front of it to protect the baby who was walking through the kitchen. They had to pull shrapnel from her neck.  Just missed the jugular.”  (The preceding cautionary tale was an amalgam of the pressure-canning horror stories from my own family members and friends.)  The truth is that pressure canners were dangerous.

The operative word here is ‘were’.  The reason so many of us have heirloom pressure canner tales of gore from ages of yore is because there were so many of them that actually exploded. But there is a whole new generation of pressure canners on the market now.  They have ratcheting, locking lids with metal-to-metal seals instead of  the inferior rubber gasket seals and their disturbing likelihood to warp, crack or otherwise deteriorate.

The Evil Genius has inspected Carol (Yes, my pressure canner has a name.  Don’t you name your appliances?) and pronounced her to be the domestic equivalent of a small-scale industrial sterilizer.  (And the man ought to know, he stares at/operates/programs/troubleshoots the real thing all day long every day. If the fellow who sits in front of the blast window on an industrial sterilizer waiting for little glass vials to explode says it’s safe, I think you can take his word for it.  And since I’m incapable of remaining on topic for more than three sentences, let me just ask one thing.  Does anyone else find it amusing that a man who is clearly NOT sterile [I remind you we had five sons in nine years] specializes in sterilizers?)

Hello?

Is anyone out there?

“Get back on topic already!”

I can take a hint…

Yes, well.  Here’s where I was going with this.  Pressure canning is very safe now.  Provided you use a new model pressure canner and follow the safety instructions.  And don’t let Aunt Bertha near it.  Just saying.

As for which pressure canner to use, I prefer this beauty:

This is the second to the largest model made by the Wisconsin Aluminum Foundry.  Yes, it’s a little more expensive than its smaller siblings or cheap knock-offs made by other companies, but it can hold and process fourteen quarts simultaneously.  Come on!  That’s seriously amazing.  That means that it twice as efficient as models that hold seven quarts.  And it can double as a big old boiling water canner.  There’s no boiling water canner on earth that can do double duty like Carol.

I have major warm fuzzies for this company.  When I broke my gauge (read: my fault completely.  I didn’t read the directions.) they replaced it –free of charge- even after I confessed what happened to it.  They sent it via Priority Mail.  Did I mention they sent it for free?  As in gratis?  I declared my love for them over the phone.  I think they’re used to it. But we were talking about beans, weren’t we?

Ah yes, these beans.

As if Facebook wasn’t a giant enough time hoover for me, I recently discovered the existence of the fabulous and aptly named ‘Canning’ group.  In this group was a picture of a batch of barbecue beans one member had made. The original recipe described them as being a clone of El Pollo Loco’s  BBQ Black Beans.  Having never been to an El  Pollo Loco, I had no idea what that meant.  One look at the recipe, though, and I knew I had to try it.  The method was so simple.  And the payoff was huge.

The hardest part of the whole project was waiting two weeks after processing to try them. Their hermetically sealed jars beckoned from their shelf in the basement, “Eat me!”

And boy, oh boy, these beans are good.  There is no hint at all of the paltry ten minutes of hands-on time (well, alright, twenty minutes if you count wiping and labeling the jars.) that went into creating this masterpiece. Smoky, spicy, saucy- they taste like beans that have baked for hours upon hours in the oven rather than beans poured from a jar that sat in the basement.  These beans alone are reason enough to justify the price of a new pressure canner even if they’re the only thing you ever make in it. How can that possibly be?

Let me paint you a little mental picture.  Let’s say, hypothetically, that you have five sons.  (Could happen, you know…) And let’s say that two of them are in a play; rehearsal is on Tuesday and the show is on Thursday, a column due Wednesday, paperwork to fill out at the bank on Thursday morning, a house full of company coming for the weekend on Friday and they’re planning on eating with you.  Right.  So, where in there are you going to find time to make a delicious and filling dinner for your company?  Try this one on for size.  Throw on a pot of rice.  Open and reheat a couple jars of Canned Barbecue Beans.  Put a couple links of your favorite sausage on the grill (Kielbasa, smoked sausage, link-chorizo, what-have-you…) and toss together a salad. Fluff the rice, top with the beans and sausage and serve with a salad and something icy cold to drink.

But hang on. It’s cheap, people!  It’s dirt cheap!  You can’t get food much cheaper than this, and you certainly can’t buy food of this quality for anywhere near this little in any store. And more banging of the drum… it’s so very good for you.  Fiber, vitamins, minerals, no funky preservatives or additives.  It’s great food the way food was intended to be.

For a printer-friendly version of this recipe, with no photos and sidebars, click here!

Canned Barbecue Beans

adapted from Creative Canning and Mary Kay Craig

• 1 pound (or slightly more) black beans or a mix of pinto and black beans, rinsed, picked over and soaked 8 hours or overnight
• 2 onions, peeled and small
• 5 small cloves garlic, minced
• 2 1/2 cups barbecue sauce (I used my favorite homemade Kansas City style sauce, but bottled sauce will do the job in a pinch.)
• 2-3 drops liquid smoke per pint jar
• 1/4-1/2 teaspoon ground chipotle powder per pint jar, to taste, or 1/2 of a fresh jalapeno, minced, per pint jar.

After the beans have soaked overnight, drain and rinse them.  What you see below is mixture of black beans and pinto beans that is approximately equal by weight.

Divide the beans between five clean pint jars. The beans should fill the jars about halfway.  Divide the onions and minced garlic evenly between the jars.

Add the chipotle powder (or minced jalapenos) and liquid smoke to each jar.

Add 1/2 cup of barbecue sauce to each jar. Notice how the pinto beans have been stained by the black beans?  That’s just inevitable.  Don’t let it worry you.

Then add clean, fresh water to the jars to within an inch of the top rim.  Insert a chopstick to the bottom of the jar two or three times per jar to release any trapped air bubbles.

Adjust the liquid if needed to maintain one-inch of clearance  from the upper rim.  Wipe the rims, add new two-piece lids and process, according to your canner’s manufacturer’s recommendations, at 15 pounds of pressure for 90 minutes.

How is that possible that you don’t have to cook the beans first? Pressure canning is more than just efficient, it’s convenient.  As you’re processing the jars, you’re also cooking the beans inside the jars.  It’s like doing a little bit of kitchen magic.

And now comes the tricky part.   You have to wait at least two weeks for the beans to soak up the liquid in the jar.  You could even wait four weeks for the ultimate experience, if you can stand it.  You’ll be making another batch as soon as you open up that first jar, though.  I guarantee you that!

P.S.  There was a really neat phenomenon that happened with these jars.  Because you form a vacuum inside the jars (by design) when pressure canning, the liquid inside the jars can continue to boil long after they’re removed from the canner.  One jar’s contents boiled for thirty-five minutes after it was sitting on the cooling rack!  The Evil Genius assures me that this is perfectly normal and safe.

If you’ve been reading me for a while, you’re aware that I am the eldest child in a large family that includes a baby sister.  This baby sister of mine is still in high school.  Sadly, she is not hopelessly stupid.  No, she’s in high school because she’s [...]]]> This past weekend I officially became my mother.

If you’ve been reading me for a while, you’re aware that I am the eldest child in a large family that includes a baby sister.  This baby sister of mine is still in high school.  Sadly, she is not hopelessly stupid.  No, she’s in high school because she’s younger than I am (*cough* much younger *cough*).  And I might’ve mentioned that my Mom is fun before, right? Well, Mom throws massive parties for my little sister.  Loads of teenage girls and food and games at her house.  And birthdays?  Whoah.  There have been years where she’s allowed Airlia to have eight or ten girls sleep over.  She did this for me and for each and every one of my siblings. And for this, I mocked my Mom mercilessly.

“Geez, Mom!  Why can’t you say no?  You’re going to be exhausted!  Do they even appreciate everything you do? You’re making them WHAT to eat?  Holy Cow!”

And Mom would respond with a smile and a shrug and say, “I like it!”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~

Last week the boys were bemoaning the fact that they hadn’t been able to get together with their friends as much as usual.  Before I knew what I was doing her words popped out of my mouth, “Hey!  Why don’t you each invite a couple friends over on Saturday and I’ll make pizza!  It’ll be fun!”  That last sentence barely got through my lips before I clamped my hands over my mouth.  But it was already too late.  In the time it took me to pick myself up off the floor they had each invited a couple friends.  How many?  I really had no idea.

A quick glance at the calendar showed me that I had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for that morning.  “Guys?  Hey guys?  Could you come here for a second?” I called, thinking I still had time to back out…  Five bright, shining faces turned toward me… “Um, never mind…” I mumbled.  I could get the blood work done, do the grocery shopping, come home and make pizza for a crowd before three, right?

Saturday morning dawned and I rolled myself out of bed to get to the doctor’s office right as they opened.  Several vials of blood and a “WOW!  I’ve never seen anybody bruise like YOU before!” from the phlebotomist later, I hurried toward the grocery store.  I tarried a little looking over packages, stocked up in the meat department, grabbed mozzarella and extra Bandaids and headed for the register.  And it was there I realized I didn’t have my debit card.  “No problem!” said I to self. “I’ll just use a check.”  I was out of checks.

I zoned out for a moment or two then snapped back into gear.  I asked the clerk to put my cart in the walk-in while I ran to the bank.  She obliged and I burned rubber.  The kind ladies at the bank printed out a check or two for me and I retraced my trail back to the store.  They retrieved my cart while I wrote out the check.  The cashier ran the check through the little machine.  Then she ran it through again.  Then againandagainandagainandagainandagain.  “Hmmm, it doesn’t look like it’s working,” said the clerk.  She beckoned for the head cashier who repeated the againandagainandagain performance and then also announced that it wasn’t working.  They called the manager over the PA system. *

*Important sidebar:  Have you ever noticed that some people have no idea how to use Public Address Systems?  They labour under the misconception that you must French kiss the microphone for it to work.  What she actually said was, “Manager on three. Three?  Manager needed on three.  Three.” Why she needed to repeat the check-out aisle number was beyond me. Between her awkward phrasing and the fact that the microphone was practically down her throat, it ended up sounding like, “Manager I pee-pee?  Manager need egg. I pee-pee.”  But I digress…

God love him, that manager got there as quickly as he could, but it still took him a while.  And he too ran the check through the machine several times before asking, “Was this transaction suspended?  You can’t pay with a check if the transaction has been suspended.”  He offered  to void every item in my cart and re-ring it so I could use my check.  Thirty minutes later, I exited the store with my groceries and went home as quickly as the speed limit would allow.  On the drive home, I called my sister and recounted what I had done that morning and told her about the upcoming party.

“Ha!” said my sympathetic sister, Jessamine. “You’re just like Mom!  You and a party?  You don’t know how many are coming?  You. Are. Exactly. Like. Mom!”

I thoughtfully responded, “No I’m not!  Mom always plans games.  I didn’t plan any games!”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~

So to recap, I had a large-ish blood draw that morning, messed up by not having a debit card or checks with me to pay for crucial ingredients for that afternoon’s pizza party, broke the grocery store’s system and was on my way home to whip up food for a crowd of as-yet-undetermined size.  Are you with me?

I got home and changed into a summery dress.*

*One more sidebar.  I can’t wear clothing that I’ve worn to a doctor’s office or hospital before they’ve been washed again.  I mean, come on!  They’re like big old petri dishes. Someone else needs to tell me they do the same thing right now.  Someone?  Hello?

As I stood propped against my counter in the kitchen making an octuple batch of pizza dough (and I’m not exaggerating.  I told you.  I didn’t know how many people were coming and NO ONE goes hungry at my house on account of me…) the boys entered the room.  One (or more… Who could tell?  I was woozy.) said, “Hey!  That dress looks just like one Nana would wear.”  And at that moment I realized they were totally right.  I. Was. Exactly. Like. Mom.

But you know what?  I smiled, shrugged and said, “I like it!”

~~~   ~~~   ~~~

Let me tell you.  The party was a total success.  And at our finest hour, we had seventeen kids running around, through, and over our home and property.  That’s 1-7.  Or 10 plus 7.  Or my five kids in addition to twelve kids who sprang from other people’s loins.  Sorry.  Is that unappetizing?

I had turned out a gallon of iced tea (supplemented by a gallon from my brilliant friend, Lisa), a gallon of lemonade and a gallon of Arnold Palmers, three sheet pizzas (one pepperoni and cheese, one cheese only, and one bacon and pineapple and onion beauty) one fifteen-inch round pizza (feta and spinach and hot pepper and olive and bacon) and two nine-by-thirteen pans full of Chaos in the Kitchen‘s brilliant pizza bites. By the time the crowd broke up and went home we had exactly ZERO leftovers.

My kids looked at me, gratefulness in their eyes for such a fun time, and said, “We’re starved!”

I had a little dough left from the pizza bites, a pound of ham-off-the-bone and a few cubes of cheese sitting around, so I threw together my take on the aforementioned pizza bites; Ham and Cheese Bites.

The Ham and Cheese Bites were inhaled by my poor-long-suffering children who went to bed five minutes later, starving once again…

For a printer-friendly, photo-free version of this recipe minus the blahdy-blahdy, click here!

Ham and Cheese Bites

adapted from Chaos in the Kitchen’s Pizza Bites

Yield: 30 Ham and Cheese Bites

Ingredients:

• Double batch of homemade pizza dough (see recipe below) or 2 packages of purchased pizza dough
• 30 wafer-thin slices of deli ham
• 30 (1/2″ to 3/4″) cubes Swiss cheese
• 30 (1/2″ to 3/4″) cubes Mozzarella cheese
• 4 Tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 2 Tablespoons semolina flour or corn meal (for sprinkling the pan), divided
• 4 Tablespoons butter
• 1 teaspoon dried chives
• 3/4 teaspoon granulated onion
• 1/2 teaspoon granulated garlic
• 1/4 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning or seasoning salt

Divide the pizza dough into 30 equal-ish pieces.  Let rest.

Preheat oven to 400°F.

Lay out one piece of deli ham.  Top with a cube each of mozzarella and Swiss cheese.

Tuck the ham around the cheese to form a little packet.

Place on a plate. Repeat with remaining ham and cheese.  Set the plate aside.

Drizzle 2 tablespoons of olive oil over the bottom of a 9″x13″ rimmed baking pan.  Repeat in another pan with the other olive oil.  Sprinkle 1 Tablespoon over the olive oil in each of the pans.

Working with one piece of dough at a time, spread out into a circle (or blob) roughly twice the size of your ham packets.  If the dough tears, do your best to patch the holes. Lay a packet of ham and cheese, seam side down, on the dough.

Pull the corners of the dough up toward the top of the ham and squeeze dough together to enclose the ham.

Pinch the dough closed at the seams and make sure there are no openings.  Place the dough, pinched side down, in the prepared pans.  Repeat with the remaining dough, making five rows of three dough balls in each pan.

Place the butter, chives, onion, garlic, and seasoning salt into a small microwave-safe dish.  Warm in the microwave until the butter is melted.  Stir together with a fork and brush over the dough.

Place pans into hot oven and bake for 25 minutes, or until golden brown.  Some cheese may leak out of the bread and bubble up.  This is most definitely not a problem.  Call cook’s dibs on the crunchy cheese bits.

If desired, you can brush again with any leftover butter when you remove the pans from the oven. Allow to rest for five minutes before removing from the pans.  Serve warm with your favorite sauce.  Ours is listed below…

Creamy Horseradish Mustard Dip

You can serve this on sandwiches and no one will hate you for it.  No need to restrict it to the Ham and Cheese Bites…

Ingredients:

• 2 Tablespoons mayonnaise
• 2 Tablespoons prepared horseradish mustard
• 1 Tablespoon smooth Dijon mustard

Stir all ingredients together with a fork or a small whisk.  Store unused portions tightly covered in the refrigerator.

Semolina Pizza Dough

adapted from The King Arthur Flour Baker’s Companion

Ingredients:

• 1-3/4 cups (7-3/8 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour
• 1-1/4 cups (7-1/8 ounces) coarse semolina flour
• 1-1/2 teaspoons instant yeast
• 1-1/2 teaspoons Kosher salt
• 2 Tablespoons olive oil
• 1-1/4 cups (10 ounces) water

In a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook (or in a large bowl with a wooden spoon) mix together all the dough ingredients until a soft, cohesive dough forms.  It will not be perfectly smooth, it should have a rather rough appearance.  Cover and let the dough raise for an hour at room temperature.  At this point, you can use the dough or refrigerate it for up to 36 hours.

Did you know there’s a fan page for Foodie With Family on Facebook?  Do you have any idea how lame I feel saying that?  Seriously.  But one exists, and it’s *blush* pretty fun for me.  I love talking with all of you.  Thank you all for weighing in on the ‘what do I post next’ poll.  [...]]]>

Did you know there’s a fan page for Foodie With Family on Facebook?  Do you have any idea how lame I feel saying that?  Seriously.  But one exists, and it’s *blush* pretty fun for me.  I love talking with all of you.  Thank you all for weighing in on the ‘what do I post next’ poll.  Taking into account the previous requests and promises, the winner is Homemade Grand Marnier, followed by Tres Leches Cake and Cream of Broccoli Soup. So what am I doing leading off with Cream of Broccoli Soup?  It’s raining here.  And when it rains I like to do three things; sit on the couch with a blanket and book, drink tea, and make soup.  Thus, soup wins.  Tres Leches and Grand Marnier will make their long promised appearances this week!

So you have a loaf of One-Hour Sandwich Bread in the oven…  What do you serve with it?  Candidate #1: Cream of Broccoli Soup.

Thick, smooth, and vibrant in both color and taste, this soup spotlights the bright flavor of fresh broccoli. And let me tell you something. I adore broccoli;  Always have and always will. I guarantee that this is the Cream of Broccoli soup for serious broccoli lovers.

My soup is a little different than most broccoli soups out there (similar to this soup made by my good friend, but different than most ‘cream of broccoli’ recipes.) Why?  Because I don’t put any cream or milk in it.  I usually stir a bit of ye olde crème fraîche* in at the end to provide just a little tang, but I find that adding milk or cream in the whole pot of soup ends up muting the broccoli too much for my taste. Isn’t the point of a ‘broccoli’ soup to taste the aforementioned broccoli?

*Nerd alert: Check out my Richard the Lionhearted moment; Old English + French.  Am I the only one laughing? Le sigh. But more practically, have you made your own crème fraîche yet?  This couldn’t be simpler!  Stir 2 Tablespoons of cultured buttermilk (NOT lemon or vinegar soured milk!) into 2 cups of heavy cream.  Cover and leave at room temperature for 24 hours before refrigerating.  Ta da!  You made crème fraîche!  And you didn’t pay an arm and a leg for it at the grocery store!  And I’m using a lot of exclamation marks!  It’s so exciting! I’ll stop now! I mean to say, “I’ll stop now.” Calmly.

There are a couple fringe benefits to preparing Cream of Broccoli soup this way (aside from the taste-bud tantalizing flavor.)

1. It’s quicker! Chop, sweat, stir, simmer, blend, serve.  That’s it; no melting butter, stirring in flour, forming the roux, simmering, blending, returning to pot, adding dairy and re-heating.
2. It’s cheaper! Heavy cream is pricey, folks!  By adding it as an accent rather than a major player, you cut down on the overall cost of the meal.  Every little penny helps, right?
3. It’s healthier!  We thicken this pot of soup with a vitamin-rich, low-maintenance potato rather than a fussy, fatty roux and heavy cream. (Don’t get me wrong.  I love the fussy, fatty roux and heavy cream in other contexts, but this soup simply doesn’t need it for flavor or for texture!)  More details on the health properties of broccoli?  Why sure!  I thought you’d never ask.

Broccoli alone is considered a super-food.  It’s rich in vitamins C, K, A and dietary fiber.  As if that wasn’t good enough, it’s been linked to boosting immunities, preventing cancer and the slowing or halting the aggressive spread of cancer.  This is one recipe where eating healthily is no chore, it’s a delight.

For a printer-friendly, photo-free version of this recipe, minus the broccoli-prosthelytizing, click here!

Cream of Broccoli Soup

Ingredients:

• 4 cups fresh or frozen cut-up broccoli (Use the stems as well as the florets! It tastes amazing and it’s economical!)
• 4 cups stock (homemade chicken or vegetable, preferably) or water
• 1 medium russet potato, peeled and diced
• 1 small cooking onion, peeled and diced
• 1 Tablespoon butter
• salt and freshly ground white pepper to taste (You can use black pepper if white pepper is not available.)
• Optional, crème fraîche for drizzling before serving (see below for instructions on making your own!)

Melt the butter in a stockpot or large soup pot over medium heat.  Add onions and lower heat to medium-low.  Sprinkle a pinch of salt over the onions and sweat, stirring occasionally, until onions are softened.  Lower the heat if necessary to avoid browning the onions.  This should take about 5 minutes.

Add the broccoli, stock, and potato to the soup pot and raise the heat to medium-high.  Bring the soup to a simmer.  Partially cover the pot and simmer for 25 minutes, or until all the vegetables are soft.

Remove the pot from the heat and allow to cool for 10 minutes.  Puree the soup, in batches, in a blender or food processor or use an immersion (stick) blender in the pot to puree the soup to your desired consistency.  Add the salt and pepper to taste.

If garnishing first loosen the crème fraîche in a small bowl with a fork or whisk.  Use a spoon to drizzle or dollop the crème fraîche over the soup and then swirl with a toothpick to create pretty patterns throughout.

You can freeze the uneaten, un-garnished soup in tightly covered containers for up to three months.

DIY Crème Fraîche

Ingredients:

• 2 Tablespoons cultured buttermilk (NOT lemon juice or vinegar soured milk)
• 2 cups heavy cream (while it’s preferable to use cream that hasn’t been ULTRA-pasteurized, you can use the ULTRA-pasteurized versions, it just may take longer to thicken properly.)

Use a whisk to combine the buttermilk with heavy cream.  Cover lightly and leave at room temperature (between 65°F and 75°F) for 24 hours or until thickened (but no more than 48 hours.)  This is good for two weeks (but I’ve used it longer than that…) in the refrigerator. Chilling it prior to use will thicken it further.

A Disclaimer

I love barbecue; real barbecue.  I’m talking about meat that falls apart when a fork looks at it because it was cooked for hours over the smoking remnants of fruit trees.  I refer to the method that requires hours of time spent lovingly tending a fire outdoors and turning and mopping meat. Please let this [...]]]>

A Disclaimer

I love barbecue; real barbecue.  I’m talking about meat that falls apart when a fork looks at it because it was cooked for hours over the smoking remnants of fruit trees.  I refer to the method that requires hours of time spent lovingly tending a fire outdoors and turning and mopping meat. Please let this stand as proof that I do know what ‘real’ barbecue is.  And also, that I know that these sandwiches do not constitute REAL barbecue since they were neither cooked over wood nor in a pit.  Thus, barbecue ‘style’.  And if you think this disclaimer is unnecessary, you haven’t met many avid barbecue aficionados.  That being said, these three-bite, pulled pork sandwiches are made of melt-under-your-teeth tender, smoky meat dressed with real Carolina or Kansas City barbecue sauce.  And if you can come up with a better way to get a barbecue fix in the center of snow-bound Amish country in the middle of winter, I’d sure like to hear it.  I’m waiting…

Some decisions end up being much harder than you thought they would be.  Toilet paper roll over or under? French fries or baked potato? Dog or cat?  Kansas City or South Carolina?

In the wonderful world of barbecue there are many regionally distinctive styles of barbecue sauce.  Most Americans are familiar with Kansas City style- a thick, sweet tomato or ketchup based barbecue sauce of varying degrees of thickness- while few are acquainted with some of the other barbecue sauces of American origins:

1. South Carolina Mustard Sauce- This yellowish brown barbecue sauce takes its color from the prepared yellow mustard base.  Tangy, zippy, spicy, and smoky, this barbecue sauce makes you salivate just to smell it.  It goes with pork like Abbott went with Costello.
2. East Carolina Sauce- (Pardon me for a moment while I don my Kevlar undies to wade into territory where I have no business being; the great barbecue sauce debate.)  Arguably the mother of all barbecue sauces, East Carolina Sauce has its roots in the slave population of the Carolinas.  East Carolina Sauce is just crushed red pepper flakes and ground black pepper mixed with vinegar with very little or no sugar.  This is vibrant and acidic and is meant both to tenderize the meat and break up some of the richness of fatty barbecue.  This is also fantastic with long-cooked pork.
3. Texas Sauce (a.k.a. Thin Tomato Barbecue Sauce)- Where’s the beef?  Right here.  Texas Sauce is a miracle worker when it comes to tenderizing notoriously tough beef briskets.  It’s another vinegar based sauce, but this one is laced with chili powder, cumin, fresh onion, meat drippings, other spices and just the teensiest kiss of tomato sauce or ketchup.  It’s not just an afterthought, though.  Texas Sauce is usually mopped on while cooking and then used as a dip or topping to finish the meat.
4. Lexington Dip- This is kind of like a gentler East Carolina Sauce.  It contains all the same ingredients, but also has a hint of tomato sauce or ketchup added.  The small amount of sweetness from the tomato cuts back the pucker power of East Carolina Sauce ever-so-slightly.

…And that’s just barely scratching the surface.  My loyalties lie with South Carolina Mustard Sauce and Kansas City Sauce.  If you hold a slow-cooked spare rib to my throat and force me to pick, I’d probably go with the South Carolina Sauce, but that’s a barbecue sauce lover’s Sophie’s Choice. Now give me that rib.

Recently we found ourselves with a large quantity of leftover slow-cooked, shredded pork* and a pan full of crusty, garlic dinner rolls. While I tried to summon culinary inspiration, The Evil Genius passed by me muttering, “How about barbecue pork sliders?”  Eureka!  He had it!  But then came the real dilemma. South Carolina Mustard Sauce or Kansas City Sauce? “Why not both?” quoth he as he passed the other direction.  Sidebar: he was not reading my mind.  I have a habit of talking to myself in the kitchen. That day, someone answered.

*Why?  Because I slow-cook ten-pound pork shoulders when I make my melt-in-your-mouth Cuban Pork and even we can’t eat all that in one sitting.

Why not, indeed?  At only a couple minutes of hands-on time each it was easy to whip up both.  And so we did.  And boy, were they both good!  This dinner took five minutes of hands-on time.  I’m sure you could figure out something to do with a little time you save making dinner, right?  (Don’t tell, but I spend that extra time hiding in the closet eating the last brownie.  I told the kids the dog got it. And I don’t feel an iota of guilt.)

These irresistible little sandwiches are equally at home in a week-night dinner,  on a party buffet or as a midnight snack. They’re also pretty addictive.  But that’s okay, because they’re little so they’re low-calorie. Right?

South Carolina Barbecue Sauce

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Ingredients:

• 1 cup prepared yellow mustard
• 3/4 cup light brown sugar
• 3/4 cup cider vinegar
• 1/4 cup water
• 2 tablespoons chili powder
• 1 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 teaspoon white pepper
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon soy sauce or Worcestershire sauce
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1 tablespoon liquid smoke

Stir together all ingredients except the soy sauce, butter and liquid smoke in a heavy-bottomed saucepan.

Simmer 30 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent scorching.  Add the soy sauce, butter and liquid smoke and stir well.  Return to a simmer over low heat and cook another 10 minutes, stirring often.

Cool to room temperature before transferring to a jar or squeeze bottle.  Store, tightly lidded, in the refrigerator.

Kansas City Barbecue Sauce

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Ingredients:

• 1 cup good quality ketchup
• 3/4 cup dark brown sugar
• 2 Tablespoons cider vinegar
• 1 1/2 Tablespoons prepared yellow mustard
• 1 Tablespoon minced garlic
• 1 teaspoon liquid smoke
• 1/4-1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, according to heat preference
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Combine all ingredients in a heavy-bottomed saucepan and bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally, over medium heat.

Simmer for 10 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent scorching.

Cool to room temperature before transferring to a jar or squeeze bottle.  Store, tightly covered, in the refrigerator.

Barbecue- Style Pulled Pork Sliders

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Ingredients:

3 cups slow-cooked, shredded pork

1/4 cup preferred barbecue sauce, plus additional sauce for serving (Carolina Style Barbecue Sauce Recipe and Kansas City Barbecue Sauce Recipe)

12 warm dinner rolls (preferably crusty rolls, like these Garlic Bubbles.)

Toss shredded pork and barbecue sauce together in a microwave save bowl.  Cover and reheat on ‘HIGH for one minute.  Alternately, you can toss the pork and barbecue sauce together in a small, heavy-bottomed saucepan and reheat -covered- over a low flame until warmed through.

Split the rolls in the center with a serrated knife.  Sandwich about 1/4 cup of the saucy meat in between the top and bottom halves of each roll.  Serve immediately with sauce on the side.

And here’s where I need your help.  While I’ve already stated my preference, if forced to choose, would lie with the mustard sauce, it’s just barely a preference.  The Evil Genius threw down his lot with the Kansas City Sauce.  The kids were evenly divided, since two liked the mustard sauce, two liked the tomato sauce and one couldn’t make up his mind and opted for a banana instead.

Give a girl a little help, would you?  Since we can’t decide, and I have another pork roast languishing in my meat drawer, I want your opinion.  Do you like South Carolina Sauce or Kansas City Sauce better?  Do you prefer your own concoction?  Do tell.  And share recipes if you have one you love more than a bag of chips.

These muffins won’t win any beauty contests.  They’re not the prettiest muffins on the block.  They have a muffin face only a mother could love.  But man-oh- man, they’re delicious.  Let me break it down for you…