I had no idea what happens when you soak chocolate chips in bourbon, nor a clue about why one might want to soak chocolate chips in bourbon.  But it can’t be bad, right?  I’ll try anything once.

I love cakes baked and frosted in 9 x 13 pans.  They look so much like a picnic to me–perfect for sharing.  They’re always best served in little squares on brightly colored paper plates.  Typically, these cakes are also the easiest to make.  This one is a little different in that there are a couple steps going on in the making of this cookie-cake hybrid.  None of them are particularly difficult, but there are a couple more than usual.

The end result, though, a cake that tastes like a beloved cookie, topped with swirls of cream cheese frosting, is the best I’ve made in some time.  It already feels like an instant classic; something I know I’ll make for years to come.

To make an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie cake for sharing, you will need:

For the cake:

• 8 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips
• 1 1/2 C + 2 T all purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp. bourbon
• 1 C rolled oats
• 1 stick butter, unsalted, at room temperature
• 2 large eggs, beaten
• 3/4 C sugar
• 1 1/4 C brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• 1 tsp. baking powder
• 1 1/2 tsp. cinnamon

For the frosting:

• 4 T salted butter, at room temperature
• 6 T cream cheese, at room temperature
• 1 C powdered sugar
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  Butter the bottom and sides of a 9 x 13 cake pan.

Place chocolate chips in a small bowl, and pour bourbon on top.  Toss with 2 T flour to coat, and let sit.

Heat 1 1/4 C water till boiling.  Place oats and butter in  bowl.  Pour boiling water over oat mixture and stir till butter is melted.  Set aside till water is absorbed, about 20 minutes.

Whisk eggs, sugars, salt, baking soda, baking powder, and cinnamon in large bowl.  Fold in oatmeal mixture till incorporated.  Fold in remaining flour till incorporated.  Stir in chocolate chips.

Pour batter into pan and bake 35-40 minutes, till a tester comes out clean.

Let cake cool completely in pan.  To make frosting, combine butter and cream cheese in the bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment.  Mix till creamy, about 3 minutes.  Slowly add powdered sugar and vanilla, and mix till smooth.  Frost cake and serve as-is.

Having him go means giving up control.  What if he doesn’t know which kind of yogurt you like best?  Greek, full fat, plain, large container.  What if he comes back without the one item you really needed?  Not that you’ve done that 8 million times.  What if he buys a round loaf of focaccia instead of a rectangular one? Ooooh, that might actually be the end of the world. 

Oh wait, none of that matters if it means you have one less errand to do.  Besides, what if he strikes up a conversation with the woman at the Whole Foods cheese counter, who assures him he’s getting the best cheddar the store has?

Then, you make panini!

Turkey, cheddar, red pepper, and pesto panini.

Approximately 0.25 seconds into a bite of this dinner I yelled, “Why does anyone ever eat at Panera?” in exasperation, out loud, to the world.  Fun fact–I have lunch plans at Panera this week.  It will be fantastic.  Whatever I eat will not live up to this.  I’m almost certain it was that top of the line cheddar that made all the difference.

To make Shutterbean’s Turkey and Pepper Panini for two, you will need:

• 1 loaf focaccia bread
• 2 T pesto
• sliced turkey breast
• roasted red peppers
• cheddar cheese
• olive oil

Heat up a panini maker while you begin to prep the sandwiches.  Cut whatever size sandwiches you’d like from the focaccia.  Slice the bread in half lengthwise.  Spread pesto on each half of the bread.  Place turkey on one half of sandwich.  Then layer cheese, peppers, and more turkey.  Place the other half of the bread atop your concoction.  Brush panini maker lightly with olive oil, and grill sandwich for about five minutes, or until the cheese starts to melt.  Assemble the other sandwich while the first is grilling.  Serve hot.

Today is December 1, which, for me, is the beginning of Christmas season (that is, if the day after Thanksgiving just seems a bit too soon).  In our house, that meant breaking out the decorations, starting a fire, and picking out a tree.

That little guy on the dining room table belonged to Grandma Glass of Milk.  She passed it on to me during a fit of downsizing.  Speaking of little guys, casa Glass of Milk is now home to a new one.

If you didn’t already know, the Elf on the Shelf watches all the girls and boys and reports on their naughtiness, or lack thereof, to the jolliest man of all.  I’ve always wanted one.  I don’t care that I don’t have an actual child for this guy to watch over.  He can watch over me.  He did that today while I made Tracy Shutterbean’s baked crispy hot wings.

Yes, I said baked.  Baked, as in, not fried.  Baked, as in, eat as many as you darn well please, because how bad for you is chicken, and isn’t spicy food supposed to kick-start your metabolism, anyway?

Since I’m nothing if not honest, dear readers, I’m going to tell you I don’t love wings.  Give me a burger and fries in front of a football game any day.  But.  I mean, obviously, there’s a but in a post about wings.  But these are not greasy chicken parts sitting in a plastic basket at a bar that start your nose a-running.  That’s what I thought wings had to be.  They don’t.  These are homemade chicken wings.  Their crispy skin gives way to juicy,  oh-so-flavorful meat underneath.  With just enough kick to keep you coming back for more.

My husband likes the wings and I like the drumettes.  We are a match made in heaven.

To make wings for 2 (a male and a not-as-hungry female), you will need:

• A pack of chicken wings (1.5 pounds-ish)
• 1 T butter, melted
• 1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
• 1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
• 1/4 tsp. salt
• 1/4 C Frank’s hot sauce (or another hot sauce of your choosing)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil, and set a rack on top of it.  Now it’s time to get real.  You’re going to have to trim the chicken wings.  I was terrified.  But I thought of when I was terrified to touch raw chicken when I was in middle school and how I got over it.  And I thought of when I was terrified of taking the organs out of the chicken cavity and how I got over it.  And then I trimmed the chicken wings and I got over it.  I’d do it again in a heartbeat to eat these another night.  Alternately, you could search for the elusive pack of drumettes and go from there.

Combine the butter, cayenne, salt and pepper in a bowl, and let hang out for 5 minutes.  Add hot sauce and stir till combined.

In large bowl, toss wings with sauce.  Place wings, skin side down, on top of baking rack, and bake 20 minutes.  Flip wings over, and brush with sauce if you have some remaining in the bowl.  Let the wings crisp up in the oven another 20-25 minutes.

Serve hot, with celery and raaaaaaaaanch dressing.

I enjoyed making Joy’s lemon pound cake (and eating the leftover batter in the bowl and on the wooden spoon). The recipe didn’t specify, but I used a Pyrex loaf pan. My oven actually took a little longer to bake the cake through, so just make sure to monitor your oven if you add any time. You can even lower your oven temp by 5-10 degrees for the additional time if you’re worried. 10-15 minutes should do the trick.

I shared the lemony goodness with my community – my office, dear college friends, and a new friend on the Amtrak to Boston Friday night. Homemade baked goods really have a way of showing people in your life that you care, don’t you think? I have some ambitious plans to bake dozens of christmas cookies for my doormen and the security guards at work this year.

A rut like this can also be what zaps the joy out of cooking.  There’s no excitement, no looking forward to standing in the kitchen for an hour, making something you could make with your eyes closed, and maybe even your hands tied behind your back.

And to get out of a rut, you have to try something new.  For me, mustering up that motivation to do so typically happens when I stumble on a recipe that’s like nothing I’ve ever made, and that contains ingredients I always have on hand.

Enter Mexican Popcorn!

If you say it in Tracy’s Oprah voice, it helps.

Mexican popcorn is a twist, that I never would have thought of, on my favorite snack .  My default flavor setting is olive oil, garlic and herbs.  But if you want to make Mexican popcorn, you have to add spices!  Cumin, oregano and paprika to be exact.  And lime zest.  I’m a sucker for anything with zest.

It takes this snack to new heights.  Or maybe they’re old heights you’ve been trying to avoid when it comes to eating between meals.  Maybe you’re used to reaching back in the bowl for one more handful.  Maybe you like licking your fingers of all the flavor that remains.  Maybe you often have to throw food in the trash so you don’t finish it all yourself.  I’ve gotten so much better about admitting that since it’s been on Sex and the City.  Maybe you ate enough of this as a snack that all you had was an apple for dinner.  Maybe.

Mexican popcorn.  Addicting stuff.

To make enough for 2 hungry people, you will need:

• 6 T coconut oil, divided (No coconut oil?  Use butter.)
• 1/3 C popcorn kernels
• 1 tsp. smoked paprika (I used regular)
• 1 tsp. dried oregano
• 1 tsp. cumin
• zest of 1 lime
• juice of 1/2 lime
• Kosher salt

Place a small saucepan over medium heat.  Melt 3 T oil* and stir in spices.  Let things hang out for about a minute, stirring once or twice.  Off the heat, add lime juice.  Set this mixture aside.

Place 3 lonely popcorn kernels in the bottom of a medium saucepan.  Pour in remaining 3 T coconut oil, secure your lid, and heat over medium heat.  Be patient.  Eventually, you’ll hear those 3 kernels pop.  That will tell you the oil is good and ready for the rest of the popcorn.  Pour in remaining kernels, secure that lid again, and shake the pan over the burner.  I keep one hand on the handle and one hand on the lid for this part.  I don’t want popcorn and hot oil splattering all over my kitchen.

When popping slows or stops, remove pan from heat.  I vent the lid a bit to let some of that initial steam escape, and give any unpopped kernels one last chance to get the job done.

After 30 seconds to a minute, pour popcorn into large bowl.  Add oil and spice mixture.  Listen to it sizzle.  Sprinkle popcorn with lime zest and top with a generous helping of Kosher salt.  Snack happy.

*Coconut oil is this wacky fat that is a solid at room temperature, and liquid when it’s heated.  Go figure.  For this recipe, you’ll want it heated so it becomes the consistency of any other oil, like vegetable, canola, or olive.

A siren song can be just about anything that you shouldn’t do that calls to you. Hard.

I hear them, like, everyday. I have for my whole life.

When I was three, four and five my siren songs were super dicey. Mostly because, at those carefree ages, I always went with my impulses.

Siren song: Play with the shiny big ‘toy’ cars racing through busy intersections.

Result: Dislocated shoulder.*

Siren song: Touch every open flame around.

Result: … I touched a bunch of fires. Ouch?

Siren song: Stand and rock on a chair with inexplicably sharp edges.

Result: Chin chok-a-block full of stitches.

Siren song: Stand on a wheely chair while leaning out our second story window.

Result: I couldn’t go to story time.

That was the worst.** Also, one of the only punishments that wasn’t just a short time-out. I got away with so much.

My siren songs have changed a bit over the years.

Siren song: Buy every issue of Locke & Key.

Result: Poorness.

… But read this if you haven’t. It’s incredimazeballs.

Siren song: Put bourbon in everything.

Result:

 Bourbon spiked Arnold Palmers.

Siren songs I hold off on:

Putting my hand in the running garbage disposal.

Walking into the giant ovens at my baking school.

Jamming the spokes of other people’s bikes.***

Shouting in theaters during live productions.****

Eating bacon every day… I don’t hold off on this one voluntarilly, I just can’t afford that much bacon.

I ate a friend’s bacon today… that sounded… not ideal.

#No shame

A couple weeks ago I made myself a BLT that I’m still salivating over.

 Sorry, the picture’s a bit fuzzy but I took it on my phone with the low-blood-sugar/why-isn’t-that-in-my-face-yet shakes.

It’s a loaded Spring BLT. Like a salad in bread and full of bacon. So, it’s exactly how I like all my salads.

In case you want to eat this beautiful monster…

Thinly slice a small red onion and a handful of radishes.

In a bowl, pour enough red wine vinegar over the sliced onion and radishes to completely cover them.

(Later, you’ll want to save the un-absorbed oniony vinegar for dressings!)

Add a couple pinches of salt and dried dill.

Let it sit and get pickly while you get to the good stuff.

Fry several pieces of bacon, pat off excess fat and set aside.

Drain most of the grease from your pan and sautee a handful of trimmed, rinsed asparagus on high heat for a couple of minutes, until they’ve got some color on them but are still a bit crisp.

Rinse and dry something like lettuce (I used red leaf and spinach. This really was a salad. I’m bonkers, I’ve accepted it).

Slice a tomato and some Dubliner.

Toast a couple slices of sourdough and mix together a couple tsps of whatever mustard you have around with a couple tbsps of greek yogurt (I was out of mayo. This actually worked pretty well. Shocking stuff) and some black pepper.

Assemble and destroy.

You look like you could use a good sandwich.

Treat yo self.

A little quick real life talk? My days have been chaotic, I’ve been sick or fighting something off for weeks and am just now feeling like myself again. I’m gonna work on building up this weak immune system of mine while working my tail off in this baking program and looking for paying work. I don’t know how much time I’ll have for this blogging business. I’m gonna try to post more, but I can’t promise anything regular. I’m gonna shoot for a post every other week, for now.

And now, a request: TELL ME YOUR SIREN SONG.

Too intense?

Well, guys, I really wanna know.

Throw a girl a bone, will ya?

*Or elbow. Probably elbow. But who can keep track of their own medical history? Squares is who!

**I love you mom. I’m obviously only alive ’cause you made the tough decisions. But I’ll probably never get over this.

Also, Everyone, tell me a story. It’ll be awesome. For me.

***My siren songs would be dicks. Obvi.

****As someone who’s done some little bits of theater and has many friends who are actively pursuing a life in that industry, this is the one that feels the worst to me. But the urge is never not there. I figure when I’m older, I’ll snap and be the worst audience member ever. Like a living version of Thespis, but less creative.

I shoved joy into my day by riding my bike all over town,

 eating good food,

listening to a podcast I can’t stop loving, reading and nearly falling asleep at a park… but only because the sun and that sneaky breeze were so on it.

Then a mother freaking turkey flew out of a tree and charged at me.

I’m still recovering.

Did you guys know that turkeys are

a) Unsettling. Like, a lot.

b) Able to fly. Who sanctioned that? Why?!**

And did you guys know that I

a) Feel very close to Tippi Hedren… despite having hair that actually moves… and that, I, as a result of that closeness, have sympathetic bird based PTSD.

b) Will now go to delis and order turkey sandwiches and eat them spitefully… and hope that turkeys don’t have that wasp thing going on.

So given the whole turkey situation and the fact that I was, in fact, forcing the joy aspect of my day, led me to pull a mulligan. I groundhog-ed that bidness.

My do-over involved even more biking (I hurt, let’s not talk about it),

multiple parks,

Grace-facing with a funny lady, more pizza, another super beautiful podcast, swings and three different grocery stores.

… But this is all from Safeway. They had a sale on sexy shame-makers.

Then, because it turns out my day needed a cherry, I got a job offer.

Not a big job.***

It’s a super temp gig, actually.

At a summer camp.****

For witches.

Stop laughing.

It’s gonna be magical.

I probably won’t be sacrificed.*****

The point is, my mulligan went super well.

The baking program is gonna teach me how to mass produce and then the summer camp will allow me to practice that shiny new skill with my own recipes.

What?!

Yeah.

Creative freedom.

For kids.

But still.

That’ll be nice.

Any ideas for what I should make?

If you’re reading this, odds are good you’ve eaten a dessert I’ve crapped out (hi friends!) (I’m actually waving right now)-  is there anything I’ve made you that you still want to eat?

Tell me!

But now I need to stop looking to the future and get real: my mulligan was on Cinco de Mayo/free comic book day.

I missed all of the free comics. It was a busy day.

But that’s ok, I went to a sale last week and got some great stuff.

… I skipped Battle Pope… apparently “when he’s not leadin’ mass, he’s out kickin’ ass!”

I am a ball of regret.

But I cooked delicious food for Cinco de Mayo so my regret has been buried in beans.

And pico de gallo.

Make some!

Start by chopping 1/2 medium red onion

add onion to a bowl with about 2 tbsps lime juice and a pinch of salt, to start to mellow out it’s aggressive onionyness.

Mince 1 pepper (I like serranos for their sharper, cleaner heat but I used jalepenos for years and was totally into them, so use whatever’s easier for you to find/eat) (also, if you want your salsa to be on the milder side you should know that I might make fun of you but we can totally still be friends… and that you should get rid of the seeds and paler stuff inside the pepper before you mince it, as that’s where most of the heat comes from)

chop a handful of cilantro

and chop a couple of roma tomatoes too

Combine it all and eat immediately or let it sit around for a bit, covered and let the flavor get awesome-er… just don’t wait too long or the tomatoes will turn into sad sacks, texture-wise… or, more likely, someone else will see it and eat all of it while you’re off running errands, like a dope.

But seriously, at the two day mark those tomatoes feel like depression took corporeal form in your mouth. Don’t go there.

(Yes, ‘corporeal’ just happened and yes, I watched Buffy during a time when my brain still absorbed new information. What of it.)

Not the best sell, I know, but just eat it when it’s fresh and it’ll be like joy took corporeal form in your mouth and then had a sexy party in your throat.

Is that not better?

Well… make it. And then tell me how I should have pitched it to you.

It’s a rough recipe but it’s incredibly easy to adjust to your own tastes and homemade salsa is kinda the best, so try it.

  While you’re at it, you should doctor up some refried beans, throw on a pot of homemade spanish rice (I’ll get to that in another post, don’t you worry), quarter some radishes, fry some bacon and corn and get me a beer. All this typing’s made me thirsty.

And sleepy.

Bye, Internet!

(Yes, I’m waving again.)

(I’m gonna sleep so hard, guys.)

*What was I thinking? I’m gonna be stupid hot and crabby as hell.

**And why did it never occur to me that this winged animal might be able to do that? Jeez, self. Get on it.

***But seriously, thank god. I was hours away from changing this blog’s deal from food and job hunting to food and… well, me complaining about being sick while drinking beer. Know thyself.

****Between the turkey thing and the summer camp job I think the world is telling me to reread this…

 Not a hard sell. This book is seriously well written and the author doesn’t try to make herself look good which is a rare, wonderful and brave thing. I stopped reading it for several months when I was three chapters away from the end because I didn’t want it to be over.

Go read it.

*****I’m sorry, witches. I’m a jerk. I don’t mean it. I love you guys.

Which is also pretty awkward.

Can we just shake hands and walk away from all of this?