dessert – Cooking the Books

April 6, 2024January 27, 2024

Time for a redemption arc

Wren Martin Ruins It All – Amanda DeWitt

Summary: Wren Martin ascends to student council president with the chance to finally cancel the stupid heteronormative big dance, but his vice president has other ideas that are (unfortunately) not terrible.

I carefully pull the cupcake out of my backpack. I made it myself, which is unbearably embarrassing, but I swear it’s more arrogance than romance. My cookie bars didn’t get much of a chance to shine at the bake sale, so it’s time for a redemption arc: lemon-lavender cupcake with cream cheese frosting, but I like to call it perfection. The fact that I had to put it in an old plastic Chinese takeout container is a little less elegant.
p. 315

Perhaps, as the name of the book suggests, Wren Martin is not the nicest nor the most savvy, but it’s still pretty easy (for me, at least) to fall for someone so clueless and mostly well-meaning. From the introduction of Wren hitting his head on a locked door to the [redacted] at the conclusion, the audience (me) is a bit ahead of where he is in terms of where everything is headed, but the joy is in the journey not necessarily the destination.

I picked this book up both because I’m always a sucker for a good enemies-to-lovers type plot, and the cover blurb sort of hints at such a story, but also because I’ve been interested in reading more ace/aro stories to read more widely in the vast alphabet that entails LGBT+ and this one sounded entertaining enough.

Boy, I was in for a treat, not unlike the perfection that makes up the cupcake described in the quote. I’m not sure if I can explain exactly why this hit all the right notes for me—I’m decidedly not in the ace/aro category, but otoh am a bit of an oblivious asshole that may help me feel seen—but I can say that Amanda DeWitt is going to be one to watch (at least for me, and she has one other book I plan to get to soon!).

Unlike “Imogen, Obviously,” Wren is not unsure of his sexuality; he describes himself early on as asexual (as does the blurb). But, like that other book I loved, Wren is still new to understanding and processing his feelings when they don’t jibe with a pre-ordained idea he has of himself, and the book (both books, tbh) is a good exploration of finding yourself as you find yourself interested in another person who doesn’t necessarily factor into that idealized person.

Both also work really well in demonstrating, at least to me, how easy it is to be yourself behind a screen, when there’s some distance (and in this case, anonymity) between you and the other person you’re vibing with (in whatever way). It’s both freeing to be able to flirt/chat/be more open but also limiting in terms of being seen and experienced at your worst, or as a whole of a person. Maybe that’s just the older millennial in me reckoning once again with the disconnect I feel between online and “real life,” but I think the exploration in Wren is well explored and an interesting contrast between Wren’s feelings for his anonymous friend and his new-found frenemy.

Like Wren, the cupcake he describes is more complicated than it first appears. But I couldn’t resist showing within the quote his arrogance but also his joy at a job well done, as well as a little bit of awkwardness.

Here’s hoping I did his story and his cupcake justice with this attempt at mashing up a handful of Food Network cupcake recipes, and how I did it:

Ingredients

For the cupcakes:

1 ⅓ c. all-purpose flour
1 t. baking powder
½ t. salt
10 T. butter
¼ c. lavender flowers
1 c. sugar
2 eggs
1 lemon, zest and juice
1 c. milk

For the frosting:

8 oz. cream cheese, softened
½ c. (1 stick) butter, softened
3 c. confectioners’ sugar
2–3 T. lemon juice or whole milk, as preferred
Purple food coloring, if desired and available

Directions

Step 1: Heat the oven to 350 degrees, and line a 12-cup muffin pan with paper liner.
Step 2: Mix the flour, baking powder, and salt in a bowl.
Step 3: Melt the 10 T. of butter with the lavender flowers on low heat, and cook for 5 minutes. Strain the lavender flowers from the butter, discarding the flowers and placing the butter in a large mixing bowl. Let the butter cool slightly.
Step 4: Beat together the butter and sugar, and then add the eggs, one at a time until mixed in. Then, add the lemon zest and juice.
Step 5: Slowly add in the flour mixture and then the milk until a smooth batter is formed.
Step 6: Divide the batter evenly among the muffin cups. Bake until the tops spring back, 20 to 25 minutes. Once cool enough to handle, remove cupcakes from the pan and let cool completely on a rack before adding frosting.
Step 7: For the frosting, use an electric mixer or stand mixer with the paddle attachment to beat the cream cheese and butter until creamy. Slowly add the confectioners’ sugar. Add in the lemon juice/milk. Continue mixing until combined, adding a little more juice/milk or sugar until the consistency looks correct.
Step 8: Use a knife or a decorating pipe to add the frosting to the cooled cupcakes.

March 23, 2024January 27, 2024

Still counts

Imogen, Obviously – Becky Albertalli

Summary: Imogen visits her bestie at her nearby college and gets a taste of what it’s like to be seen as queer, and along the way realizes that maybe she isn’t so straight after all.

Tessa stops short. “You’re an award-winning chef?”
“Yeah… I don’t want to brag, but”—I bite back a smile—”I kind of swept the ten-and-under category in the Li’l Cookies Library Fundraiser Bake-Off.”
“Yeah you did,” Tessa high-fives me.
“Best Rice Krispie Treat of my life,” Lili says.
“Thanks! It’s the recipe from the back of the Rice Krispies box.”
“Still counts!”
p. 45

This book made, at least to my eyes, several year-end best lists for queer YA fiction in 2023, and so I could not resist giving it a try. Then, I read the whole thing in more or less one sitting, and I understood what all the fuss was about.

A thing I’ve heard more and more from the LGBT+ community (or maybe my ears were finally ready to listen) is the phrase “You are queer enough,” and this book is basically the embodiment of this concept.

In some ways, Imogen had never given too much thought to her sexuality. Since all her friends are queer, and while she’s never kissed a boy (or anyone else!), she’s always seen herself in contrast to them. In other ways, because she’s always seen herself in contrast to them and has that message constantly reinforced by another friend, she’s never had reason to give it much thought. Then, a little white lie gives her a weekend where no one questions that she *could* be queer. That gives way to weeklong flirting exchange with another girl that has Imogen questioning everything she thought she knew.

What does being queer look like? What if her love of queer people and queer media left her blind to the fact that it could look like her? What about earlier obsessions with girls? And most importantly, what about this new girl keeps her up too late and smiling?

Imogen, obviously, is a delight to spend an easy 300+ YA pages with, and one that left me up too late and smiling way more than I’m used to. And the Rice Krispies treats, well, they were a bit easier and made well before bed time, but they were no less satisfying than the book (given it’s been years since I have had or made them).

Here’s what I did, following the recipe on the back of the box (well, the Rice Krispies website anyway), obviously:

Ingredients

3 T. butter
1 (10 oz.) package JET-PUFFED marshmallows
6 c. Rice Krispies cereal (or generic, shhhh)
Oil, for coating

Directions

Step 1: Melt butter in a large saucepan or pot over low heat. Add marshmallows and stir until completely melted. Remove from heat. Add in the cereal, and stir until well coated.
Step 2: Spray or spread oil in a 9×13 casserole dish, and then use an oil-coated spatula or wax paper to evenly press the mixture into the dish.
Step 3: Let cool, and cut into 2 in. squares. Freeze any leftovers by separating squares with wax paper.

January 23, 2021

I’m on a roll

After my first week of making rolls, and absolutely loving them, I couldn’t resist making more when I came across a cinnamon roll-like recipe that included the delightful mixture of “orange cheesecake” and “breakfast.”

Times being what they are, cheesecake for breakfast sounded like a really good idea to me.

Plus, I miss baking bread.

Once again, this one is a bit time-consuming, even if much of it isn’t active time, so another one to make on a weekend day or over a couple of days. However, like the savory rolls from the start of this year, these were amazing and disappeared quite quickly from our fridge.

Though the cheesecake filling and orange glaze do not use any cinnamon or other similar spices, the process is very much like a cinnamon roll: making the dough, letting it rise, making the filling, wrapping the filling in dough, cutting into rolls, letting it rise, baking, and then coating in a glaze, and then devouring.

Here’s what I did, slightly altering a Taste of Home recipe:

Ingredients

For the dough:

4 ½ t. (2 packages) active dry yeast
¾ c. warm water (about 110 to 115 degrees)
1 ¾ c. warm milk (about 110 to 115 degrees)
¾ c. sugar
2 large eggs
3 T. butter, melted, plus more for greasing
1 ½ t. salt
7 to 8 c. all-purpose flour (I needed a little more, but YMMV)

For the filling:

8 oz. (1 package) cream cheese, softened
½ c. sugar
2 T. orange juice concentrate, thawed
½ t. vanilla extract

For the glaze:

2 c. confectioners’ sugar
4 T. orange juice (from one orange)
1 t. grated orange zest (from one orange)

Directions

For the dough, dissolve the yeast in warm water. Add the milk, sugar, eggs, butter, salt, and 5 c. flour. Stir in enough remaining flour to form a firm dough. Turn the dough onto a floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic.

Place in a greased bowl, turning once to grease the top of the dough. Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled, about an hour.

In a small bowl, beat the filling ingredients until smooth.

To form rolls, punch dough down, and turn it onto a lightly floured surface. Divide in half. Roll one half into an 18 x 7 rectangle. Spread half the filling to within ½ in. of the edges. Roll up jelly-roll style, starting with a long side. Pinch seam to seal. Cut into 12 slices and place cut side down in a greased 9 x 13 casserole dish. Repeat with the remaining dough and filling.

Cover and let the rolls rise until doubled, about 30 minutes.

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Bake rolls for 25 to 30 minutes until golden brown.

To make the glaze, combine the ingredients and stir until well mixed. Drizzle over warm rolls, and enjoy!

December 5, 2020

Orange you glad to have a well-stocked pantry?

I wasn’t on my A-game when my sweetie did his weekly grocery shopping this past week, so I completely forgot to get any ingredients to make something in my small skillet. If this weren’t a pandemic with worrying signs in Iowa, I would have said “no worries” and made a special trip.

However, with everything *gestures at Iowa’s mess*, I thought it best to forgo an extra trip and see if I couldn’t find something to make with what we had on hand.

Chocolate-orange shortbread ingredients.

Thankfully, we have a well-stocked pantry and a copy of my favorite cookbook “5 Ingredients” by Jamie Oliver. I managed to find three official recipes that would fit in a small skillet not including ones I’ve made before or ones that’d fit some other piece of equipment. We also had a few other things in the freezer where I could fake some sort of filo dough pot pie and enough eggs I could have managed a quiche.

However, I liked the idea of the 5 Ingredients, because it was guaranteed to be easy. After a short debate on pros and cons of any item, my sweetie and I thought the chocolate-orange shortbread sounded ideal.

I had to do slight alterations, using two mandarins instead of one navel orange and a mix of semi-sweet chocolate chips and a milk chocolate Hershey’s bar instead of dark chocolate. But all in all, with just five ingredients, it was pretty easy to have them all on hand, especially as someone who likes to bake and whose sweetie eats a lot of fruit.

And boy, for so few ingredients and so little work, it was a perfectly delightful dessert. Maybe I’ll have to wing it more often.

Here’s what I did:

Ingredients

150 g. butter, at room temperature (about 1 ½ sticks), plus more for greasing
200 g. all-purpose flour (about 1 ¼ c.)
50 g. granulated sugar (about ¼ c.), plus more for topping
Zest from 1 navel orange or 2 mandarins (divided)
50 g. dark chocolate, chips or chunks (or however you can get chocolate for melting!)

Directions

Heat oven to 375 degrees.

Grease a 9-inch skillet with butter. Line with parchment paper, and grease that as well.

Mix together the flour, sugar, and zest from ½ the orange (or 1 mandarin). Use your fingers to mush in the butter, without kneading; the texture should resemble a pie crust that just barely holds together. Press the mixture into the prepared skillet until it’s in an even and cohesive layer. Pierce with a fork throughout.

Bake for 20 to 25 minutes until lightly golden. Sprinkle with a couple pinches of sugar on top while still warm. Then, remove to a wire rack to let cool completely. Meanwhile, melt the chocolate on a double broiler with water underneath, or a microwave like I did, though it is unlikely to spread in a pretty manner if you do it my way. Spread the melted chocolate on top of the cool shortbread. Grate the remaining zest (or 2nd mandarin) on top, and enjoy with orange slices!

October 24, 2020

Poverty pie uses on-hand ingredients for delightful dessert

One of the things that my sweetie and I both enjoy is looking at old recipes. Among our favorites are cookbooks collected from a local community; for me, my favorite is one from the church where I believe my grandparents wed (or at least was a one-time hometown for one or both of them).

They offer insights into what’s popular in a given time or given location, and they vary wildly in terms of quality, suggesting uncharitably that maybe not everyone can cook or more charitably that different people have some quite different tastes from me.

In that same vein, we also love discovering recipes that are likely from the Great Depression-era, or maybe just ones stemming from home chefs who have made a little go a long way.

As someone who has been very, very privileged throughout this pandemic to both (so far) keep my job and work from home, I count myself extremely lucky that I do not, and have rarely, *needed* to make a little go a long way. But I am still grateful that these recipes survive to remind me both that poverty doesn’t mean the absence of joy and that cheap doesn’t mean gross.

This week’s recipe, in that sense, was a real revelation.

I knew from looking at its ingredient list that it had to be a poverty pie, born of a need to use what’s on hand to make a simple dessert. However, it wasn’t until I tasted it that I figured out the tricks it used to make its bare-bone ingredients seem like something a little more.

Correctly dubbed a vinegar pie, there’s not much to the insides of this pie, but it does use white vinegar as its most unexpected-in-a-dessert ingredient.

I would have been more skeptical but for two facts: (1) I figured Taste of Home wouldn’t promote a recipe of complete garbage, and (2) my Grandma Crippes’ ditalini pasta salad recipe relies on a very simple dressing of white vinegar, oil, and sugar, and it works delightfully well.

Still, some things about the recipe were confusing, and I doubted it would work well. Until I tried it and realized that everything makes sense once you know that vinegar pie is what happens when you want to make apple pie but cannot get the fresh fruit.

That explained the small strips of dough on the bottom layer, and the use of vinegar to add a citric flavor when lemon juice may not be available, and the extra flour — like in a traditional apple pie — to help make an internal goop while baking.

All in all, it was actually quite a delight and is a reminder that it’s possible, if not ideal (hint: Congress pass a GD bill to help people) to make apple-ish pie out of vinegar. Literally.

It’s not pretty, it’s not fancy, but it’s a good enough, tasty enough pie.

Here’s what I did, following the recipe only making it 9-inch instead of 12 and slightly altering the water level as I found it to be too much for my small skillet:

Ingredients

1 ½ c. sugar
2 ¼ T. all-purpose flour
½ t. ground nutmeg
6 T. butter, cut into cubes
½ c. white vinegar
1 to 1 ½ c. hot water
2 pie crusts (homemade or store-bought)

Directions

Heat oven to 450 degrees.

Whisk together sugar, flour, and nutmeg; set aside.

On a floured surface, roll out one-third to one-half of the pie crusts into a ⅛ in. thick circle. Cut into small 2 in. by 1 in. strips (I was hung up on this idea, but if you imagine the strips are replacements for apple slices, it makes it much easier to envision the size and shape). Layer a 9-inch enamel-coated cast-iron skillet or casserole dish with half the strips. Sprinkle with half the sugar and dot with half the butter. Add the remaining half of strips, and repeat the sugar mixture and butter layers.

Roll out the remaining half to two-thirds of the dough into a ⅛ in. circle. Place over filling and press against the sides of the skillet or casserole. Cut a slit in the top.

Mix together 1 c. of hot water and ½ c. of vinegar. Slowly pour water-vinegar mixture into slit. Liquid may (and almost certainly will) bubble up through the crust. If it’s not completely full, add another ½ to 1 c. hot water (for me, it was full with the original amount).

Since it’s likely to spill over a little, place an oven rack lined with foil or an old cookie sheet below the intended rack to bake the pie. Bake the pie for about 1 hour until the crust is golden brown, perhaps reducing the time or covering edges with foil in the last 15 to 20 minutes.

Cool on a wire rack, and enjoy!

August 28, 2020

Cake and amaretto, let’s go!

The general state of the US, the Republican National Convention, and bars closing down again in Ames has got me thinking about booze. A lot.

Of course, now that I’m an old and immunocompromised, I haven’t seen the inside of a bar since I can’t remember when, but well enough before the pandemic hit Iowa that I can’t be sure of my last stop in my preferred ye olde saloon. The GOP, OTOH, is lately a constant source of making me think about the drink. (I thought about linking to separate articles for everything, but I don’t need the higher blood pressure or swollen liver.)

But I’m a baker at heart, and I have a blog to do, so I turned to my old favorite cookbook of “Booze Cakes” to find the perfect recipe for this week.

Though there are many wonderful recipes, few work in a little 9-inch skillet, and I’ve already made one this year.

I’ll admit to some initial skepticism about the amaretto cake. It was simple but not necessarily my idea of a great cake. I’ve never been happier to concede I was wrong.

I loved it. I loved it a lot.

I had an inkling it might be good when the mixture yielded a wonderfully spongy batter; I was a little more concerned when to cook it through the top was rather darkened. By the time I used my silicone spatula to loosen the cake from my Le Creuset and turn it onto a large plate, I was sold.

The topping of a boozy glaze (amaretto simmered with apricot jam!) and some toasted almond slices only made it better.

It also had the benefit of being a simple boozy cake. Just one layer. Mixed in a stand mixer. A simple glaze. Simmered for just a few minutes (a little longer for me because I was convinced the apricot pieces were just jelly that hadn’t broken down rather than the obvious pieces of fruit that they were).

All in all, a pretty great way to spend a bit of time away from news and in the comfort of a kitchen.

Here’s what I did, sticking to the recipe:

Ingredients

For the cake:

¾ c. (1 ½ stick) unsalted butter
¾ c. sugar
1 (7 oz.) tube almond paste
Zest of 1 lemon
Zest of 1 orange
¼ c. amaretto liqueur
1 t. vanilla extract
3 eggs
½ c. all-purpose flour
1 t. baking powder

For the amaretto glaze:

2 T. apricot jam
¼ c. amaretto liqueur

For finishing:

¼ to ½ c. sliced almonds, toasted
Confectioners’ sugar, to desired level

Directions

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9-inch coated skillet (or springform cake pan if you’re traditional).

For the cake, in a mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar 3 to 5 minutes, or until light and fluffy. Mix in almond paste, orange and lemon zests, amaretto, and vanilla. Beat in eggs, flour, and baking powder. Pour into prepared pan, and bake for 45 minutes, or until knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool.

For the glaze, in a saucepan over low heat, stir jam and amaretto together until smooth.

To finish, Unmold the cake onto a large plate or serving dish, pour glaze over the top. Sprinkle with toasted almonds and a dusting of confectioners’ sugar. Enjoy, perhaps even with an amaretto sour!

August 7, 2020

Treat yourself with some cobbler

I figured it’s the appropriate time of year to make a cobbler. In fact, I think it’s only because my sweetie now does the shopping for us that I haven’t stopped to stare at the summer produce and be reminded sooner.

Peach and blackberry cobbler ingredients.

Since I didn’t grow up with a family cobbler recipe—our desserts tended to be store-bought cookies—every time I make it, I go searching for anything that strikes my fancy. This time, I happened to be going through Taste of Home when I came across a recipe from an Iowan. (Yay!)

I was intrigued but was ultimately won over when the recipe included my two favorite summer fruits: peaches and blackberries (it was actually a berry mix but blackberries were listed first, and honestly, I just made it with blackberries).

Plus, it had cardamom, and I almost never have excuses to use this most exciting of spices.

I may have overdone it by adding a full 1 t. of cardamom when the recipe called for just ¼ t., but I *really* like it, so I didn’t mind and my sweetie has been enjoying bowlfuls for breakfast (don’t judge!) alongside me without complaint. My other adaptation was using lemon zest in place of orange zest in the topping, and that worked well for my tastes as well.

I also went ahead and used my Le Creuset that measures 9 in. not 10 in., as the recipe called for. It all fit like a charm, though the liquid did bubble over a little in the oven and we got the delightful aroma of burnt sugar. Not the worst deal but perhaps a 10 in. skillet is the wiser course.

There’s fruit underneath all that, I promise!

Here’s what I did, adapting slightly:

Ingredients

For the fruit mix

½ c. sugar
3 T. cornstarch
1 t. ground cinnamon
¼ to 1 t. ground cardamom, to taste
6 c. peaches (6 to 8 peaches), sliced
2 c. blackberries (about 12 oz./two small containers)
Juice from ½ lemon

For the topping

1 c. all-purpose flour
¼ c. sugar
Zest from 1 lemon
¾ t. baking powder
¼ t. salt
¼ t. baking soda
3 T. cold butter
¾ c. buttermilk
Vanilla ice cream, for serving, optional

Directions

Heat oven to 375 degrees. In a large bowl, mix together the sugar, cornstarch, and spices. Add the peaches, blackberries, and lemon juice. Toss to combine, and then transfer to a 9- to 10-inch cast iron skillet (10-inch probably preferred).

In a medium bowl, bring together the first six topping ingredients (flour, sugar, lemon zest, baking powder, salt, and baking soda). Cut in the butter with a pastry blender or two knives or your fingers until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add the buttermilk, and stir until just moistened. Drop by tablespoonfuls over the fruit mixture.

Bake uncovered until topping is golden brown, 40 to 45 minutes. Serve warm, preferably with vanilla ice cream, and enjoy!

June 26, 2020

Don’t be a nutter, try this fluffernutter pie

Remember how a few weeks ago I talked about my adventures with a peanut butter and jelly pie, and my excitement to adapt it?

Well, I couldn’t wait.

My sweetie suggested a fluffernutter pie, and I had to know how it’d work as an adaptation.

Fluffernutter pie with pretzel crust ingredients.

Another thing I wanted to try was a pretzel crust. The sweetness and the salt sounded exciting, and tasty. I thought the extra sweet fluffernutter would be the perfect test vehicle for my salty crust.

So, in (very technical) science terms, I added some extra variables, but the constant from the peanut butter and jelly pie was the center peanut butter filling.

The first variable I thought I had tried before, mixing marshmallow cream into whipped cream. I had not; in past instances, I’d mixed the marshmallow with meringue as a delightful way to “toast” the marshmallow in a S’mores pie and a Thanksgiving sweet potato pie. This time, though, I wanted an icebox pie, no cooking beyond the crust required. So, it was a test. Does whipped cream folded into marshmallow cream work? It resoundingly does.

The second variable I was more confident in, as I’ve already made a saltine crust earlier this year and, in theory, crushed pretzels aren’t that different from crushed graham crackers. The pretzels took a little more pounding, but otherwise, it was much the same as the graham cracker/saltine crusts. So again, it was a test, but I was less surprised when this was also a resounding success.

Even better, it all came together great. It was, like the last pie, the perfect adaptation of the original favorite sandwich, just sweetening the deal a little. (My sweetie has next suggested a Take 5 pie … I might take him up on it, but I might also take 5 *wink* on repeating a peanut butter pie every month.)

Salt, sweet, marshmallow, peanut butter, perfection.

Here’s what I did, adapting the peanut butter and jelly pie Taste of Home recipe from last month:

Ingredients

For the crust:

1 ½ c. pretzel crumbs (I’d estimate I used about 3 c. of pretzel twists and then pounded the sh*t out of them with a meat tenderizer)
5 T. unsalted butter, melted
¼ c. sugar
Pinch of salt

For the pie:

1 package (8 oz.) cream cheese, softened
½ c. confectioners’ sugar
½ c. peanut butter (I went with creamy for the pie, even though I like crunchy, but you do you)

For the topping:

1 c. heavy cream
7 oz. marshmallow fluff

Directions

For the crust:

Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Mix together the ingredients in a medium bowl, and then press them into the bottom and up the sides of a 9-inch skillet. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes until the edges are golden. Remove from oven, and let cool completely.

For the pie:

In a large bowl, beat together the cream cheese, sugar, and peanut butter until smooth. Spoon into cooled pretzel crust. Top with whipped topping (directions below).

For the topping:

Beat the heavy cream until stiff peaks form. Fold the marshmallow fluff into the whipped cream.

To finish:

Place the whipped topping on top of the pie. Cover and refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight, and enjoy!

May 22, 2020

Peanut butter jelly pie, peanut butter jelly pie

I can’t be the only one in these times who’s been reverting back to things that are comforting, while also somewhat ironically enjoying the chance to do things I’ve never done.

Some examples: I’ve recently rediscovered my love of Iron Chef: America, while also enjoying the fantasy dread and panic (as opposed to the real life dread and panic) of American Horror Story. I’ve dyed my hair (and donning a mask when I interact with other people), but I’m also wearing the same handful of outfits week in and week out.

This week’s recipe is very much in line with this new Christinia-in-the-time-of-Covid.

I made a peanut butter & jelly pie. All the comforts of a PB&J from my youth and the joy of making pie but made into something I’ve never had before.

I’ll admit my initial taste was one of mild disappointment, as the peanut butter and cream cheese had the familiar mouthfeel as a PB&J with a tad too much peanut butter where you have to use your tongue to break it up. I suggested — and am still considering for future alternative uses — mixing the peanut butter mixture with the whipped cream that goes on top.

However, upon tasting my second slice, I realized the simple fact that the pie really brings everything that’s great about a PB&J into a pie and doesn’t need my additional tweaking. I’ve enjoyed more slices since then and think it works wonderful as is.

I do think it’ll be worth trying to fold in the whipped cream at some point, and maybe trying it with something chocolatey, or as my sweetie suggested making a sort of fluffernutter. I’m still considering my options but suffice to say this simple, familiar dish has opened up whole new worlds for me.

Quick note: I went ahead and homemade my crust so that I could make it in my little Le Creuset, and I homemade my own whipped cream because it’s just so much better. But if you don’t have the energy in these times to make this, just remember you can save some time and energy by getting those items premade, at which point it’s basically just mixing the peanut butter center and topping with the jelly of your choice. No judgement from me.

Here’s what I did, using a Taste of Home recipe, with some alterations for my homemade crust and topping:

Ingredients

For the crust:

1 ½ c. graham cracker crumbs
5 T. unsalted butter, melted
¼ c. sugar
Pinch of salt

For the pie:

1 package (8 oz.) cream cheese, softened
½ c. confectioners’ sugar
½ c. peanut butter (I went with creamy for the pie, even though I typically like crunchy, but you do you)
½ c. strawberry preserves (any flavor will work if you like it in a PB&J but this seemed perfect for the nostalgia I craved)

For the topping:

1 c. heavy cream
2 T. sugar
Salted peanuts, for topping (optional)

Directions

For the crust:

For the pie center:

In a large bowl, beat together the cream cheese, sugar, and peanut butter until smooth. Spoon into cooled crust. Top with the preserves (I thought it’d be too messy, but it actually works.).

For the topping:

Beat together the heavy cream and sugar.

To finish:

Place the whipped topping on top of the pie, and peanuts if using. Cover and refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight, and enjoy!

April 17, 2020

Time for a slice of heaven

It’s a little early to be breaking out the icebox pies, but life’s too short (especially now) to wait for summer.

So, I took the chance in mid-April to enjoy some strawberry lemonade.

Thanks to the delightful series of pies I discovered on Taste of Home (I will be making more), I got to enjoy this wonderfully simple, extremely tasty pink lemonade pie.

All the more delightful, and new to me, it was made with a saltine crust. Just a sleeve and a half of saltines, a bit of sugar, and some melted butter; it’s like a graham cracker crust only salty and savory and extra sumptuous. I will be using it again, in both savor and sweet pies.

Like most icebox pies, this was quick and easy. You’ll likely still need to brave the grocery store for some of the ingredients, though many items are household staples. Namely, most of us—I don’t think—have 2 packages of cream cheese, unflavored gelatin, or 2 cups of (frozen or fresh) strawberries on hand.

However, with just a handful of extra ingredients, a little work, and a few hours of waiting, you’ll be able to have a little slice of heaven, even in self-isolation.

Here’s what I did, following the recipe with the exception of a little extra lemon:

Ingredients

~60 saltine crackers (about a sleeve and a half), coarsely crushed
1 c. sugar, divided
1 stick (½ c.) butter, melted
2 c. sliced strawberries (fresh or frozen, thawed if frozen)
Juice from 1 lemon (~2 T.)
Zest from 1 lemon (~2 t.)
¼ c. cold water
1 envelope unflavored gelatin
2 packages (8 oz each) cream cheese, softened
½ c. heavy whipping cream

Directions

Heat oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl, stir to combine the crushed crackers, ¼ c. sugar, and the stick of melted butter. Use the bottom of a glass or your hands or something flat-bottomed to press the saltine crust into and up the sides of a 9-inch skillet. Bake until set and golden at the edges, about 15 to 18 minutes. Cool completely.

Combine strawberries, ½ c. sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest, and let stand 10 minutes. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, sprinkle gelatin over the cold water, and let stand 5 minutes. When ready, transfer the strawberry mixture to a blender or food processor, and blend until smooth. Microwave the gelatin mixture for about 10 seconds, and then stir into the strawberry mixture.

Meanwhile, beat cream cheese and the last ¼ c. of sugar together until smooth. Gradually add in the cream, and then the strawberry mixture. Beat until well combined.

Pour the filling into the crust, and refrigerate covered until set, at least 2 hours and up to overnight, and then enjoy!!