Pumpkin Muffins with Dark Chocolate Chips

daphne on October 10, 2008

These muffins are delicious, a perfect snack for the lunch box or after school. I’ve modified it many times, and no matter what, they always come out tasty. And the chips? Everyone knows that dark chocolate is good for you, so relax, indulge!

Ingredients:

2 cups sugar (or 1c brown and 1c white sugar or even less white is fine)
2 cups pureed pumpkin
1/2 cup canola oil (use applesauce instead; or try 1/4 c oil + 1/4 ground flax seed meal–very healthy and keeps the muffins super moist.)
1/2 cup fat-free vanilla pudding –(or skip pudding and add flax to keep moist)
4 large egg-whites (or 3 whole eggs=more hefty)
3 cups all purpose flour (I do 1 c brown and 2 c white)
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup dark choc chips (nuts if not for school, oats work too)
Cooking Spray

1. Preheat oven to 350

2. Combine first 5 ingredients in a large bowl, stirring well with a whisk. Lighly spoon flour into dry measuring cups, level with a knife. Combine flour, cinnamon, salt and baking soda in a medium bowl, stirring well with a whisk. Add flour mixture to pumpkin mixture, stirring just until moist. Stir in choc chips.

3. Spoon batter into 2 (8×4 -inch) loaf pans coated with cooking spray. Bake at 350 for 45 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in the center comes out clean.

4. Or–spoon half into 24 mini-muffins and bake for about 25 minutes. We do 24 mini-muffins which are perfect kid snack size, and one loaf.

Cool 10 minutes in pans on a wire rack, and remove from pans.

the cat goes away…so they all puree?

daphne on October 8, 2008

Away I went. Really. All by myself on a handful of airplanes and trains and cars to land at my high school reunion. Who me, worry? Not a chance, for back in the real world I had grandma and grandpa settled in to help Dave with the girls. I am told that all went well. Sure there is some underlying chatter about a glass platter that is no more; and yes, we do have a brand new microwave though no one will confirm nor deny the occurrence or lack thereof of an explosion or not in our previous microwave. But really, all is well and good.

The children are in one piece. Acadia, bless her little heart, was kind enough to wait for my return before falling out of a tree (minor scratches only, miraculously.) The kids are so ecstatic to have Mommy home again that they have totally forgotten that I am the same monster that notoriously turns down candy requests and demands unreasonably early bedtime rituals. I’m riding this wave of popularity as long as I can.

Of course, when you are the lucky recipient of free childcare it goes without saying that things will be done a little differently. And of course I wanted nothing more than for my parents to settle in, in a mi casa es su casa kind of way. And I for one am fine with a weekend full of ice cream for breakfast and 127 trips to the pool. That’s what grandparents are for.

That, and pureed squash. Surely this has happened to you? You return home to find a freezer chock full of unmarked fluorescent orange baggies?

No? Suddenly we’re not on the same page anymore? I’m telling you, retirement changes people.

The story goes that my parents were accosted by a “greenish pumpkiny looking thing” at the market. Really, what else could they do? Mommy-rules fly out the window faster than a greased cat through a keyhole, but my story about putting up enough food for the winter? That they took to heart.

And so I return, exhausted from a wonderful weekend of pretending that absolutely no time has past since the glory days of 1988. I didn’t have to worry about my children. And I certainly don’t have to worry about running out of squash.

I wonder if I can interest anyone in soup?

Butternut Squash Soup

daphne on October 8, 2008

This is the perfect lunch for a cool fall day. I’ve only made it using butternut squash so far, but considering the abundance of mystery squash currently on hand, I’m going to try mixing it up. I’ll report back with results.

Ingredients:

  • 2 Tbls olive oil
  • I medium onion thinly sliced
  • ¾ cup apple cider
  • 1 2lb butternut squash in 1 inch cubes
  • 4 ½ cups chicken broth
  • ½ cup heavy cream
  • 2 Tbls butter
  • 1 apple diced
  • 1/3 cup smoked cheddar

To Do:

  • Heat oil and sauté onion for about 8 minutes.
  • Add apple cider and stir until sticky, about 3 mins.
  • Add squash and stock and bring to a boil, reduce and simmer until tender, about 40 minutes.
  • Puree.
  • Add cream and stir.
  • In medium skillet sauté butter and diced apple.
  • Ladle soup into bowls, top with apples and cheddar.

Summer lovin’

daphne on October 1, 2008

Sure there was that boy, cute as can be, splashing around and all that jazz. Really, what’s not to love about summer? Oh wait, I know. There’s that inescapable, miserable, sweltering heat. Which frankly I can do without.

Suffice it to say that if my calendar tells me it’s time for fall, I become a bit impatient with the stubborn resurgence of 80 plus degree days. I’ve got certain expectations of my September, and heat isn’t one of them. I’ll tell you who is grooving on this protraction of summer love–my garden. The raspberries are flat out refusing to pack it in this year.

And they are not the only ones. Out on the porch the petunias (or pansies or pandas for all I know. I’m still a bit rusty on the flowering things out there, what with my preoccupation with veggie knowledge and all.) Flower-lovers, share with me. What are these hearty beasts?

Whatever they are, they are tough as nails. After taking a couple of months off during that dry spell (when I forgot to water them, I mean) these lovely ladies re-reared their purple and pink faces. Following the hostile take down recently suffered by the sunflower patch, my plan is to immediately cease all other floral attempts and replace them with Pinky Tuscadero and her friends.

As I begin this bout of whining, Acadia’s birthday is behind me and back to school nights are a thing of the past. It’s time for pumpkin picking (you know, if, like my brother, you’ve got some frisky squash at hand.) It is the time for leaves to yellow and leap and for apples to give themselves up for pie.

And if a perfect pie isn’t your thing, the girls have been munching away at these babies, dipped in honey, shmeared in peanut butter, or warmed with cinnamon sugar. All I’m missing is a steaming mug of spiced cider. Welcome Autumn my old friend.

who me, jealous?

daphne on September 29, 2008

Over the river and through the woods, or up the road and across the town line, lives my little brother. Say what you will about my use of the diminutive regarding a grown man with a wife, 2 sons, and his own business; the fact remains that this is my little brother. And you know how little brothers can be.

Just as soon as I got around to planting a garden and cooking up the harvest he had to get in on the game, which is fine, really. I don’t care. One thing, though. As you may have heard, I have had a difficult history with pumpkins, what with the all stag parties my gourds tend to throw. But does my brother have the same troubles? Noooooo, he does not. Just look at this. I shudder to think of the multi-gendered orgy that went on in his pumpkin patch last spring.

And here’s my brother’s oldest son postulating to my daughters about the fecundity of their soil, the robust sexual appetites of their gourds, the, oh all right, he’s telling them that the pumpkins are turning orange, but still, it all seems just a little unfair.

Oh, and lest you think his green thumb is limited to the garden, let me tell you that it’s not all pumpkins being made over yonder at baby brother’s house. This little nugget was also freshly plucked. Apparently they’ve got an active cabbage patch too.

That’s Javi, my gorgeously adorable new nephew.

So I ask, why does my brother get pumpkins AND a new baby? What about me? I like pumpkins. I like babies. (And yes, I apparently am partial to pouting and whining too. But I happen to think that makes me all the more human and likable.)

Yes, the ugly but honest is that I am jealous. I’m a greener biener, all right; green with envy. Greener than those pumpkins in his patch that I know will soon turn the perfect pumpkiny orange.

It sure is swell that my little brother offered us a pumpkin for Halloween. Right. Pumpkin shmumpkin, I need to get these hungry hands on that yummy baby.

Holy Tomatoes Batman

daphne on September 28, 2008

Shout out to our new farm hands, friends Bridget and Colin , who joined our own little seasoned pickers in the field. Without those extra built-low-to-the ground pickers, I don’t know if I would be spending all my waking hours up to my elbows in tomato juice. Thanks, guys.

Ok, so let’s say these extra farm hands result in a lot of tomatoes. I mean, A LOT of tomatoes. I’m talking about 40 pounds of big red beauties. And with their looming threat of transforming from a delicate treat into mashed rottenness, these tomatoes demand attention.

There are some seriously scary stories out there about the horrors that result from amateur canning. I’m not opposed to learning how to manage boiling hot glassware; in fact, reader Amy has it spelled out nicely at her site Five Flower Mom, and I’m going to give it a go with the next batch, I swear. I just know I’ll be more open to that lesson once the frozen veggies start infringing on my ice cream space. I’m the type who needs plenty of room for ice cream.

For now, since Ben and Jerry have some wiggle room, I was happy to stumble upon this site, http://www.pickyourown.org/freezingtomatoes.htm, that walked me through the easy process of freezing. I froze tons as diced tomatoes and the others I put up as sauce.

Here’s a quick break-down of the easy steps:

(1) Drop tomatoes into a pot of boiling water. Leave them for about 45 -60 seconds.

(2) Drop them into an icy bath. I filled the sink with ice cubes and cold water.

Looked like a mooshier version of bobbing for apples.

(3) Pull off the skin.

(4) Once the skin came off, I cut the stem end. Then I took the whole thing in my hand and squeezed. A nice tight hug, to get out the extra water and some of the seeds.

(5) Dice the tomatoes and set the pieces in a colander in the sink to drain.

For diced tomatoes, I put them in ziploc baggies, squeezed out as much air as possible, and laid them flat in the freezer.

For sauce, I followed my dash-o-this, pinch-o-that style tomato sauce recipe, then froze the sauce in jelly jars (lucky for me we polished off the strawberry jam so quickly!)

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. And enjoy.

Little House in the ‘burbs

daphne on September 26, 2008

With half-pint and quarter-pint off to school it was time Ole Ma got that kettle on the fire. That food’s not going to put itself up, you know. How this family expects to make it through an unforgiving winter without a hefty supply of tomatoes in the freezer is beyond me. You know that Slow Joe can’t make it over a snowy pass and Nellie won’t give much milk with the ground covered in snow…

Can’t have the family facing starvation, but wait, wasn’t Ole Ma supposed to work on her novel this morning? And what about those updates to the blog, and never mind a certain five year old who’s expecting a birthday party to be planned. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’ve got 40 pounds of mean tomatoes roaring my name.

Last Sunday was the harvest festival at Monroe farm (yeah, I know that was a week ago, but you see, I’ve been dealing with these tomatoes…) This is the place that supplies our luscious veggies every week, and where we went to pick strawberries earlier in the summer. Something happens when you’re in a field with a green light to pick until your heart grows content (or until your back gives out.) What happens? I’ll tell you, this–

You go a little nuts. Picking with thoughts of packing pickled peppers, even if you have little idea what that means and even less of a clue of how to accomplish such a feat. Needless to say, we went a tad overboard.

Particularly in respect to the peppers.

Now, I’m not sure how many jalepenos and poblanos your family plows through in a year, but a rational estimate for our foursome is somewhere between none and one. Not that we let a silly thing like that stand in our way.

So, we had a ton of peppers to deal with, and by ‘we’ I mean, Pa, who was happy to settle down in front of the Giants game with a peck of said peppers. His plan? To slice and dice in preparation for making some of the killer salsa (recipe coming as soon as I get it out of Dave) we’ve been downing lately. All was well and good, what with the Giants winning and all….

Until, WHAM, the peppers went wild, attacking Dave’s sensibilities and filling the living room air with a pungent, powerful spice. It took two days for his eyes to stop tearing, at which point he loaded said poblanos in the car and hauled them down to the office.

Which is all well and good, except for the couple of distractions that remain to keep me from completing (ok, beginning) my great American novel. First, there’s the little matter of pinata-prep for Acadia’s party tomorrow–

And second, this overflowing box of jalepenos. Not as potent as the poblanos, but still, I’d be pretty unpopular around here if I slid a couple of these bad boys into a grilled cheese or two.

Ah-hah! I’ve got it. It’s perfect, don’t you see? I can avoid stuffing the butterfly with plastic bobbles and high fructose corn syrup AND be rid of these pesky peppers once and for all. Imagine the smiling faces of the children as they are rained down upon by these multi-colored treats.  Fiesta Time!

Tomato Sauce

daphne on September 26, 2008

Ingredients:

  • Ton of tomatoes
  • Diced onion
  • Minced garlic
  • Dash or more of dry red wine
  • Sage and Basil leaves, and/or crushed oregano
  • Pepper to taste (or red pepper flakes if you like a kick)

Saute the onion and garlic in olive oil until the onions wilt, about 5-8 minutes. Deglaze with the red wine, add the tomatoes, and the spices, and bring to a boil. You can reduce the heat right away to low, or if there is a lot of extra liquid, let it boil, uncovered for another 5-10 minutes. Then let simmer for at least an hour over low heat.

I’m no little Italian grandmother, but it seems to me it’s tough to go wrong with this. If I have fresh herbs, I add those. If I have mushrooms, I’ll add those too. As far as I’m concerned, if you start with fresh tomatoes and you’ve got red wine, you’re looking at a winning combination either way.

Use right away, put in the fridge for up to a week, or let cool and freeze in jars.

Happy Birthday to Acadia

daphne on September 25, 2008

I’m working on a boatload of humorous articles, useful tips and wonderful recipes following our harvest day at the farm last weekend, really I am. But how can I be expected to formulate sentences when I am swimming (drowning?) in the inconceivable fact that, as of 2:54 last night, my baby turned five. FIVE!

Here’s an indulgent look at five years (well, four. We didn’t get the digital camera going until her second year) in the life of Acadia…Happy Birthday, baby.

Super-Squirrel

daphne on September 20, 2008

You remember Squiggy? Our poor, tuckered out squirrel? He featured prominently a few posts ago, back when I was all ga-ga with love for the creepy critters that share our outdoor space.

I assumed then that this lazy backyard beast just needed to take a load off. You know how it is what with birds to chase and nuts to gather and gardens to plunder. A squirrel gets tired.

But no, apparently lazy Squiggy was just resting up for the big fall event… Sunflower Tipping.

Oh yeah, it’s all the rage in suburbia.

The super-squirrels lay in wait, nibbling nuts or stealing apples while us hair-brain humans dig, and plant, and water, and weed.

Ever the enthusiast to play the stupid human, we did just that. We planted, we watered, we weeded and we waited. Despite the hours we put in, I was still surprised (shocked, really, though that sounds a little strong) when these beautiful, enormous, strong flowers poked their sunny heads out alongside our driveway.

The kids used them as measuring sticks. We lined up in front of them each day to marvel over their growth (the flowers, not the children.) See how they stand, strong and stately?

Or should I say, stood, formerly strong and no longer stately.

What we didn’t account for was Super Squirrel, able to leap tall stems in a single bound. I came outside to meet the school bus yesterday, just in time for the big event. Here’s how it unfolded:

Super Squirrel darted out from the shade of the crab apple tree, correcting for wind on the run. In one giant pounce, he sprang up from the grass and landed 3/4 of the way up the sunflower stalk. From this position he slowly ooched his way up towards the head, rocking the stem until it tipped towards the ground. At this point he grabbed the flower, stuck his pointy nose inside, and started to feed on our hard won sunflower seeds.

We screamed, waved our arms, and shooed the Olympian back from whence he came. But as he slunk off he cast a backward glance. And I saw it. That smug smirk on his pompous little rodenty face.

Oh no you didn’t. Bring it Squiggy. It is so on.