Overheard at St. Josephs

My mom is in the hospital.   She got there by ambulance, thanks to the incredibly kind and efficient paramedics at the Burbank Fire Department.    I have spent the better part of the last two days there with her.     Here are some of the highlights:

Man in waiting room:  We were going to renew our vows, you know.  This year would have been our 50th wedding anniversary.
Hospital volunteer:  Oh, my.
MIWR:  Yes, yes.  But she had breast cancer.   For a long time, it was in remission.  No symptoms at all.  Then one day, she's feeling a little short of breath.  We go in, and they tell us it's back.    She was gone within the week.  Not even a week.  A few days.   But you know, I prayed to God.   I said to him, if its her time, take her quick.   No suffering.  Just quick-like.   And he did, and I was grateful.  Yes, I was.   But I miss her.   Yes, I do.
HV:  You surely do, Sir.  Let me go check and see how things are going in there for you.
MIWR:  Thank you.  Thank you kindly.

Man in the bed next to my mom in the ER:  GOD DAMN!  I hurt SO BAD!  HELP ME!  HELP ME PLEASE!  Somebody!  Oh Lord!  This is awful.
Me (who has been to the restroom and come back to this):  Um, Mom?  Do they know about him?
MIBNTMM:  Jesus CHRIST!  Why does this hurt so much?  *%##!@
Me:  I'll just go find someone and ask.
Mom:  I'm sure he'd appreciate that.
Me: (to nurses on duty):  Excuse me?  The guy in there seems very upset.  Is anybody...?
The Nursing Staff:  Yeah.  We know about him.   Sorry about that.
MIBNTMM (audible through open doorway):  Is my LIFE not worth another 2 MILLIGRAMS to you people?  Does ANYONE out there have an ounce of pity on them?  I'm DYING here!

I now realize Mom (who really may be dying) and I are now extras on the episode of ER where the crazed drug addict comes in and begs George Clooney for meds, falsely claiming to be in the throes of pancreatitis or yellow fever.  I go back in and Mom and I work on the crossword puzzle until the police come.

Nurse:  Here's your pill, Mr. X!
Patient:  What is it?
Nurse:  Your pill.
Patient:  What's it for?
Nurse:  It's [complicated drug name]
Patient:  But what does it DO?  Why am I taking it?
Nurse:  You know how they said you might get a burning sensation when you pee?  Well, this prevents that from happening.
Patient:  Oh. Like the clap.  Man, I need that medicine.

Doctor (rapping on door):  Knock, knock!
Patient:  Go away.
Doctor:  Hello?
Patient:  I don't want 'em.
Doctor:  What don't you want?
Patient:  Whatever you're selling.
Doctor:  But I'm here to tell you that you get to go home!
Patient:  Oh.  Well.  That's good.
The doctor explains the discharge plan to the patient, congratulates him, reminds him to complete the course of antibiotics, and turns to leave.
Patient:  Can I get some sleeping pills to go with that?

Doctor (to my mom):  You need an immediate blood transfusion.  Your red blood count is dangerously low.  It's one of the lowest I have ever seen in someone who was still conscious.
My mom:  Do I have to?
Doctor (perplexed):  No, I suppose not.  But if you don't have the transfusion, you're going to die.  I can't be any plainer about this.  Your condition is very, very serious.
My mom:   I see.
Doctor:  So, should we go ahead and get that started for you?
My mom:  No, thank you.  I'm good.

I'm not good.  But it's helped to write this down.  And to have an incredible sister and husband and kids and cousins and aunts and dad around to help figure out what do to next.   I've already used up almost two pounds of butter and all the sugar in the house.

Cream of Wheat: It's not just for breakfast anymore

When our family first moved to San Diego, my sister was about 9 and I was 11.  We'd been uprooted from our home in DC, driven miles across the country in an old Volvo station wagon loaded down with luggage, pillows, and guinea pigs, then plopped down in a strange town full of palm trees, surfers and a lot of bald guys in sailor hats.   Perhaps sensing that some form of transition plan was needed*, our parents devised "Sundays".

The rules were simple.  Every Sunday, a different member of the family was in charge for the entire day.    You got to pick the meals.  You got to pick an outing.  And everyone else had to go along for the ride.

It was kind of genius.   We went all over town in the first few months, horseback riding (my sister), beach combing (me), apple picking (my mom), and antique car racing (my dad).

But it was also an opportunity for two sisters to exact cruel and unusual punishment on each other.

My Sundays:  Oatmeal for breakfast, every single time.
Her Sundays:  Cream of Wheat for breakfast, every single time.

To this day, she hates oatmeal.  I've come around on Cream of Wheat.

Especially now that I know you can have it for dessert.

Caramel-topped Semolina Cake

This is the first of many from the new cookbook Around My French Table, by Dorrie Greenspan.  The book has already inspired nearly 1000 fans to join together to try and cook their way through it, a different recipe every Friday.  Given my miserable record with the Daring Bakers, don't count me in for the full marathon, but if I had to start somewhere...

Unfortunately for my visions of a warm, buttery, slightly nubby cake dripping with thick, rich caramel sauce, it turns out that the title is actually in code.

Caramel-topped means Syrup-soaked
Semolina means Cream of Wheat cereal
Cake means Pudding


If you put the whole thing together, the recipe was actually for...
Syrup-soaked Cream of Wheat Cereal Pudding.
And that I might have skipped.  But like our family Sundays, I went along for the ride.

The recipe couldn't have been easier.  Cook the cereal in milk until thickened, add sugar and vanilla.

While that's cooling, make caramel** and put it in the bottom of a baking pan.     

Beat eggs and, in my case, chopped fresh cranberries tossed with a little sugar and orange zest, into the cooled cereal mixture.

Pour batter over caramel sauce.  Bake.  Watch it puff in the oven, then fall flat the minute you take it out.   Turn upside down on a plate.

Pray.  Lift.  Ooh! Ah...Um.  Hmm.
I think I made flan*** by mistake.

Oh well.  I like flan.  In this instance, the caramel flavor has soaked through completely, and the contrast with the bright berries and the smooth vanilla pudding is oddly well matched.    The stuff melts in your mouth.  Not something most cakes do.

Let's just say that while I might not choose to make this again when my Sunday comes around, I never left my plate this clean when my sister fed me Cream of Wheat.

* The reason we moved to San Diego in the first place was that the White House was going through a transition plan of its own back in DC, and my dad and the rest of the political appointees from the prior administration  had been summarily swept out of town.
** Just sugar, water, and a bit of corn syrup.
*** A nicer way to say "Syrup Soaked Cream of Wheat Pudding"

The Bread Fairy: A real life, feel-good, fantasy for the whole family

There's a cliche about how story ideas are pitched in Hollywood:  An eager young writing team goes into a meeting, says, "It's Harry Potter meets Avatar"* or "It's The Hangover meets Wall Street"**, and the next thing you know they have a seven figure movie deal and Will Smith attached to the project***.

Not being in the biz, I have no way of knowing if there is a grain of truth to this idea, but I will confess to you now that this post is, in fact Challah Back, Camelback Girl meets A Really Inspired Kitchen.

Here's the longer pitch:

A carb-addicted blogger goes berserk at a school auction and purchases a bread baking class taught by a culinary master chef.    The impossibly organized and talented hostess guides the group through the finer points of making bread from scratch.   Braiding happens.   There is spontaneous parental bonding over a gourmet lunch, complete with delectable desserts.   Our heroine returns home, stuffed to the gills, bearing a huge tub of dough.   In an inspirational ending, she is seen distributing loaves of warm, golden, yeasty bread throughout the community, engendering feelings of happiness and goodwill from all mankind.**** 

You can send that seven figure paperwork over anytime.

The "goody bowl" for each guest included the bread recipe, a whisk, measuring spoons, and a sack towel.

The counter was loaded down with ingredients...a basket of fresh eggs, bags of bread flour, oil and sugar.  In the foreground is my yeast, proofing in warm water.

Whisking in the eggs and sugar

Our hostess, Leah, demonstrating.  By the way, there was not a speck of anything on that apron at the end of the day.

The whisk is now useless.   The only thing that works is to get in there with both hands and go for it.

This part is pretty fun, actually.

The dough gets a coat of fruity olive oil.  Kind of like a nice spa treatment.

Now resting under a soothing damp towel (told you it was like a spa treatment!), the dough has a little nap. We get snacks.

Cinnamon chocolate chip bread and lemon walnut bread.  I know.  It's just not fair that I was here and you weren't.

Turning out the dough after it has risen.  It is bubbly and airy, almost like a sponge.

A minute later, it's collapsed into a smooth, round ball.

The recipe makes enough to feed a small village for a month.  Leah is cutting the dough into four parts.  Each part will make a full sized loaf of bread, with bonus leftover dough.  Keep reading to see what happens to that!

Making "ropes" for braiding.  Leah's advice is to roll "up" from the center to elongate the dough.  Like everything else about Leah, it works perfectly!

Preparing to braid.  Did you notice there were six ropes?  It's gonna be complicated!

Here's how I remember how to make the right pattern:  The octopus (or in this case, sextopus) is doing calisthenics.   You are his coach.  He folds one arm over to the side  Then he puts his other arm across.  The coach is happy.  Two crossed arms look good to you. But then, the creature reaches to the middle with the first arm.  He's missing a side arm now, so you pull one over for him.  He stubbornly puts the arm that was out to the side in the middle.  You pull over an arm to replace that one.  He defiantly puts the other side arm in the middle.   This is one stubborn sextopus. You repeat this back and forth (side, middle, replace side, middle, replace other side...) until you run out of arms and he's just a fat braided stump.

After the bread has gone back for a second damp towel treatment (all those calisthenics!), we apply an egg wash and toasted sesame seeds

Leftover dough balls are rolled in cinnamon sugar to make decadent breakfast buns.

Or get tied into knots for dinner rolls.  These have a touch of fennel salt on top.

As the house fills with the aroma of baking bread, lunch is served.   Moroccan Lentil Soup with Gruyere Crostini.  Mediterranean Orzo Salad.   Green salad with Pears.  Assorted cheeses. 

...and a bread basket.

Yeah.  She made these, too.  It's just nuts.  The lemon tart, on the right side there, was INCREDIBLE!!!

* Young, hormonal British wizards are sent by train to a school on a distant, lush planet full of beauty, peril, and a wise but dying shrub. They wear striped scarves and are distrusted by the natives. An evil NASA accountant runs amok on earth, wreaking havoc on the ecosystem of the universe. He is thwarted by extremely tall, flying blue people and some insects, but only after the shrub unites the wizards and the natives, and then dies meaningfully. The blue people turn out to be naturals at Quidditch.
** A group of young wall street analysts get blind, stinking, drunk after work and accidentally do a hostile takeover of Microsoft. Hilarity ensues.
*** Thereby neatly illustrating both the industry's complete self-obsession and its utter lack of originality. 
**** I really did go home with my big tub of dough and feed all mankind.  I made two loaves with toasted sesame seeds, three smaller loaves with golden raisins folded into the dough and rosemary sugar on top, and my masterpiece, a large loaf with bittersweet chocolate chips tucked into the braid and alder-smoked salt on top.  When my son's carpool dropped him off after basketball practice, the house smelled incredible.  Three kids and three grown ups dove into the fresh sesame loaf, I sent my friend home with a bag of dough for her family of four, and then I took three warm loaves to a packed board meeting.  I dropped the last raisin loaf off with a friend this morning, and the dog somehow managed to scarf down a handful of dinner rolls that got left on the counter.

Vocab Quiz

Cheesy Pennies Vocab Quiz #1

Dessert
Desert
Class
Flaky
Short 
Poach
Cloven

Two of the words on the list are homophones* of each other.   The other words are homographs**, with both negative and positive connotations.   Use each word in a sentence to demonstrate these characteristics.

Extra credit:
Illustrate your work.


Answer:
Dessert and desert are homophones.  Example sentence:   Four friends decided to take a holiday dessert course together, but three of the four friends deserted me, so the last friend went by herself.

The rest of the words are homographs.  Example sentences:

The instructor, noted pastry chef Robert Wemischner, had just begun showing the class how to properly laminate puff pastry, when Pam, who had risen from her sick bed so as not to abandon me***, walked in the door.
Pam is a class act!

When done right, homemade puff pastry is wonderfully light and flaky.
In the kitchen rolling out dough, we agreed that our flaky friends really missed out.

We learned an easy, foolproof formula for a great short crust. 
Napoleon was a short French megalomaniac.

Our friendly classmate, Lowell, kindly allowed me to poach some of his wine****.
It is sheer genius to poach pears (or any kind of fruit!) directly in rich, buttery caramel sauce.

The devil is said to have cloven hooves.
If you steep a dozen whole cloves and a vanilla bean with the liquid in your custard base, your ice cream can be cloven*****.

Next week's quiz:  Elegant synonyms for "super fattening."  Credit will be given for having edible examples for the instructor.

Robert's Cranberry Nut Tart
My favorite recipe of the night.  The crust is buttery, with a slight tang from the citrus, and is perfectly matched with the sharp flavors of cranberry and the crunchy, nutty caramel topping.  I will happily be making this again.

Crust
1 c. (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 c. sugar
1 egg
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla
1/4 tsp. grated orange or tangerine zest
1 1/2 c.  of flour
pinch of salt

In a mixer or food processor, cream butter and sugar until light and smooth.   Add egg, vanilla, and zest, and continue to blend until combined.  Add flour and salt, and mix or pulse just until the flour disappears, about 30 seconds.   Scrape the bottom and sides to make sure you got all the flour.   Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface, compressing to remove excess air.   Divide dough into two parts, cover each in plastic wrap, and flatten slightly and refrigerate until firm, about 2 hours.    Roll out to about 1/3 of an inch thickness, then line your tart pans, pressing the dough into the pans so it is evenly thick all around.   Prick the dough with a fork, then chill while you make the filling.

NOTES:  The recipe makes enough for two normal sized tarts, so you will have one extra wrapped disk of dough to use for something else.   You can keep it in the fridge for several days, or freeze for later.  You can also freeze the dough in the molds, tightly wrapped, for several weeks.   In case you didn't notice, the recipe uses a ratio of 1, 2, 3, 4.   The sugar is 1 part.  The butter is 2 parts.  The flour is 3 parts.  And the egg is one egg for every 4 oz of sugar.  

Cranberry Nut Filling
1 c. lightly toasted pecans, walnuts, and/or pistachios, chopped.
1 bag fresh cranberries, rinsed and drained.  For more textural contrast, use a combination of fresh and dried berries here.  We did!
1 stick butter
1 c. brown sugar, packed
1 c. heavy cream
2 tsp. vanilla
Generous pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 350.  Place the toasted nuts and cranberries into a heatproof (stainless steel) mixing bowl.  In a heavy saucepan, combine the butter, brown sugar and cream, and bring to a boil.  Remove from heat, add the vanilla and the salt, and pour over the cranberry nut mixture, stirring quickly but thoroughly to blend the mixture evenly.  Immediately pour the mixture into prepared tart pan and bake, on a baking sheet placed on the lowest rack of the oven, until the filling is boiling.    Remove from oven and cool to room temperature before serving.

I happen to love the cloven ice cream with this one.   But it also went very nicely with the chocolate semolina pudding, too.




* Words that sound the same, but are spelled differently.
** Words that are spelled the same, but mean entirely different things.
*** That, and she really wanted to find out about these caramel poached pears.   And she swore up and down that this idea alone was worth all the effort that it took to get out of her jammies and get into her car. 
**** I think he felt sorry for me because I had no friends at the beginning.
***** This may not be an actual word, but it is an outstanding idea, particularly when paired with the pear dessert.  Hey, look at that!  A bonus homophone!