Thursday, July 10, 2025 Quest for the Perfect EM

English muffins. How hard can it be to make them? Let me count the ways. You won’t be bored, I promise!

Batch #1 was straight outta the Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. We’ll call that one The BHG. Used our 3.5” biscuit cutter. Easy peasy without a huge time commitment, but they didn’t rise much and were a wee bit small for the egg sausage (or bacon) breakfast sandwiches that hubby likes to make. Also, there wasn’t much in the way of Nooks and Crannies, an important feature of EMs. By the way, you don’t bake these, you cook them on a griddle.

In search of a better recipe I went down the rat hole of google searching. Everyone thinks their recipe is the best. It would be refreshing to have someone say, “My recipe is fairly average, but everyone in my family likes it.” I checked Pinterest and YouTube as well. Overwhelmed by all the possibilities I chose one almost at random from Preppy Kitchen (PK).

Batch #2, The PK. The recipe was much fussier with more ingredients and took more time. I used one of our nice goblets (Grandma Lois’s) to get a larger diameter of 4 inches. The dough was hard to handle, the EM’s were sky high and expanded a bit while rising. I couldn’t get them to cook all the way through on the griddle and had to finish them in the oven. Decided to purchase a 4-inch cutter for the next batch. Discovered in my researches that the best way to open an EM is to insert a fork into the middle and go around the edge that way. Works like a charm!

Batch #3, Return of The BHG (not to be confused with Revenge of the BHG). Let’s review the definition of insanity: repeating the same actions and expecting different results. I thought I could improve upon the performance of The BHG which was so much simpler to make. The only difference to the final product was that these were even more like hockey pucks than the first batch. Hubby valiantly ate them anyway. Maybe it really was Revenge of the BHG.

Batch #4, Return of The PK. I was older and wiser by now and resigned to the idea that excellence was going to take more time and effort. I knew how to avoid the perils of the past and press on toward the goal of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Oops – sorry. Something in that sentence triggered one of my Bible memory verses. Progress was made. The final muffins were 5” in diameter, somewhat monstrously large in comparison to the store bought ones. My husband suggested they should be called “English Empire Muffins.” But they weren’t too high and I figured out a better way to cook them on the griddle without finishing them in the oven.

Voila!





What? You were bored? Oh dear. Perhaps “promise” was too strong a word.

Brought to you by the Kitchen Bee (closely related to Lynniebee). (Very closely.)

I’ll probably use a fork to break this post open in the morning.

Wednesday, May 28, 2025 The Workshop: Jammin’

A few years ago, my sister, the official Jam Queen, gave me the book that unlocks all the jam mysteries of the world. And jelly mysteries, too. After years of receiving her incredible jams as gifts for Christmas and birthdays, the secrets were being unveiled.

I eagerly read through the book, using little page markers to flag the jams I wanted to make, but had to abandon that fairly early on when I realized that I was flagging just about every page. A jam zeal had come over me. You think it wouldn’t happen to you, but I invite you to look through that book and see if you remain untouched.

Well, with great power comes great responsibility and I take these responsibilities seriously. I have been jamming.

Two Kinds of Apricots with Vanilla and Gerwurztraminer
(I left little chunks of vanilla bean in the jam for fun)

Rhubarb, Apples and Gerwurztraminer

As you can see, Gerwurztraminer played a big part in both of these. Wine is quite elevating in the jam world. Take an ordinary uninspiring jam and add wine and suddenly your jam is getting invited to posh social events.

Oooh! Ahhh!

Next I’m considering a Banana with Bittersweet Chocolate Jam. Would you eat it? I wonder if it would be good on vanilla ice cream. The jam zeal is still with me.

I’ll probably add wine to this post in the morning.

Monday, April 14, 2025 Polish Cuisine

As I was sorting through our books a few weeks ago, I decided to sort through my cookbooks as well. In the process I came across an old cookbook called “Treasured Polish Recipes for Americans.“ It had been a Christmas gift to my mother-in-law from her sister in 1952. It’s probably been in our possession for a long time, but I’ve never looked at it. I picked it up and started to read the foreward: “This is no ordinary cookbook.“ What a great start!

It was published first in 1948 in Minnesota, right after World War II when there were many Polish families that had come to America. They did not want to lose their heritage, particularly as it relates to cooking. Let me just share with you a few random phrases from the introduction.“Baking in Poland, delicious in its results, was a test of endurance and muscle. Old recipes say ‘Beat butter or eggs and sugar for one hour and in one direction only.’” Yikes! My arm hurts just reading that sentence.

Here’s another one: “The generous use of butter in the recipes may startle you. You may ask, do they use so much butter in Poland? The answer is yes, and let us tell you why.” It turns out that in rural areas every household owned a cow and faithful cows give milk all year long. I have no objection to a lot of butter in recipes – sounds like a good plan to me.

“Warm hospitality is a characteristic of the nation. Stranger or friend is always welcome and never bid farewell without a serving of food – it little matters how modest – the little cottage shares what it has.”

Well, I just had to try a couple recipes after reading all of that. I started to read through the cookbook to see if there was anything that I, in my modern kitchen, with our modern grocery stores, could make. It was startling to run across a recipe for Cassubian headcheese that called for one pig head. And then jellied pigs feet, which of course calls for four pigs feet cut in halves. I had to move on to something a little more doable and after much perusing decided on making Bitki Wolowe w Smietanie (Beef Bitki in Cream) and Buraki (Beets).

The Beef Bitki recipe wasn’t as precise as I might have wanted, and I had to make a few judicious guesses and substitutions. The beets recipe was very straightforward. The author of the cookbook claims that Polish cuisine has hauntingly good flavors. I have to admit our beef and beets were very good, although I’m not sure what constitutes hauntingly good. It was a lovely excursion into Polish cooking. I’d make the beets again anytime – fabuloso!

Blessed be the Lord who daily loads us with benefits

AI dictation programs 😊

The coming of spring

Good food

Being inside on a very windy day

Good teaching and preaching (good food for the soul)

This post was not made with a pig’s head, though I can be pig-headed at times. Deleting in the morning!

Tuesday, March 25, 2025 Ode to Pistachios

A reprint of my second blog post back in March of 2018, waxing eloquently (I hope) about pistachios:

March 27, 2018 Ode to Pistachios
What I really appreciate about pistachios, aside from their charm, good looks and impeccable taste, is that you really have to work for all that goodness.  By the time you’ve amassed a handful, there’s a certain amount of moral high ground you’ve reached in earning the luxury of eating them.

Contrast this to what happens every year on Christmas Day when we go to my sister’s house for the extended family celebration.  My sister and her husband are fabulous hosts, and one of the little extras they provide on that day are bowls full of pistachios without their protective armor. That’s right: bowls full.  Every year on our way there, I tell myself firmly (very firmly) that I will not lose control with the pistachios, but each year the same, sad story plays out. It wouldn’t be so bad if I were able to forsake the Christmas cookies to make room for the pistachio gorging, but no.  I hear a little voice in my head saying “YOLO” and off I go. Well, it’s only once a year…and YOLO.

When I buy them for our home, they come with protective gear and the seemingly impenetrable ones get left for last. By the time one of those bad boys gets cracked open, the last shreds of potential guilt have melted away and it’s smooth sailing right down the gullet.  Amen.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

March 27, 2018 Ode to Pistachios

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What I really appreciate about pistachios, aside from their charm, good looks and impeccable taste, is that you really have to work for all that goodness.  By the time you’ve amassed a handful, there’s a certain amount of moral high ground you’ve reached in earning the luxury of eating them.  Contrast this to what happens every year on Christmas Day when we go to my sister’s house for the extended family celebration.  My sister and her husband are fabulous hosts, and one of the little extras they provide on that day are bowls full of pistachios without their protective armor.  That’s right: bowls full.  Every year on our way there, I tell myself firmly (very firmly) that I will not lose control with the pistachios, but each year the same, sad story plays out.  It wouldn’t be so bad if I were able to forsake the Christmas cookies to make room for the pistachio gorging, but no.  I hear a little voice in my head saying “YOLO” and off I go.  Well, it’s only once a year…and YOLO.

When I buy them for our home, they come with protective gear and the seemingly impenetrable ones get left for last.  By the time one of those bad boys gets cracked open, the last shreds of potential guilt have melted away and it’s smooth sailing right down the gullet.  Amen.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.