Fat Friday: Um, well . . .

OK, I know it's Friday and you tune in here so I can impart great kitchen wisdom into your lives. You wait all week to see what new and exciting thing I'm making for you.

Well, I have some bad news.

See, I woke up yesterday and before I was even out of bed, I had a headache, which worsened until it was a migraine by lunchtime. I'm not complaining - by migraine standards, mine are pretty easy to take care of. A couple of over-the-counter migraine tablets and I'm good to go. But I knew the migraine was caused by stress, which had been steadily ratcheting up as the week went on. This is my first year, since becoming a mom, that I've found myself away from home more than at home. Practices, meetings, sports - it's the usual stuff that all parents deal with. I'm just a bigger whiner. Plus, I'm a total homebody. I love to be at home in my nest, nesting.

I really should drink more wine.

I realize prayer and taking things to God are a viable source of handling stress, but sometimes I just need an adult beverage to take the edge off, man.

So, back to my excuses. . . .

I saw this last month and have been planning to make them for Halloween and for my kids' classroom harvest parties -

Fossil cookies. Found this little gem in Martha Stewart's October issue this year. Aren't they cool? And how easy could they be? You just take sugar cookie dough, imprint plastic bugs in them and bake. I was IN.

So, I made my sugar cookie recipe and got plastic bugs and spiders at the dollar store. I looked all over for a plastic centipede but couldn't find one. See how cute Martha's is? All those little legs . . .

I made the imprints and got them pretty deep. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be.

Then I baked them. See what happened? The bug imprints just melted into the cookie.

Dang it. I need a sugar cookie recipe that isn't so buttery. Maybe shortbread? Will you please try this and tell me if it works for you? You can even borrow my plastic bugs.

So, this was last night. My big fossil cookie experiment had tanked and I needed cookies for 3 harvest parties at school today. That's close to 60 kids.

I was tired, still had the dregs of a migraine and was butt-tired. I didn't want to make more cookies, I wanted to be horizontal. Enter my new best friend . . .

Mr. Lofthouse.

Mr. Lofthouse makes beautiful cookies and he and I go way back. Back to when I was pregnant with Daniel.

I think I was around 7 months pregnant and my neighbor brought me these sugar cookies. From then until the end of my pregnancy, I'm pretty sure I kept the company in business. At one point I called the customer service line to do some major butt-kissing. I was hoping for a) free stuff but mostly b) the recipe. When I taste something that knocks my socks off, I have no shame - I will ask for the recipe. I've done it in restaurants, hotels, bed and breakfasts, friends' homes - you name it.

The point is, if I want something, I'll ask for it. Usually I get it. I'm spoiled like that. Anyway, back to my Lofthouse story.

I called their number and tried sucking up. I flattered them. I had no shame. To the best of my recollection, this is how the conversation went:

"Lofthouse customer service, how can I help you?"

"Um, hi, I'm not calling to complain or anything, I just really like your cookies a lot."

"Oh! Well thank you for your comments!"

"Yeah, um, actually what I want is the recipe because (here's where I played the I'm-pregnant-and-you-should-do-what-I-want card) I'm pregnant and the baby needs cookies."

"Well (laughing), that's really nice but we don't give out the recipe. It's an old family secret."

"Are you sure? Because they are seriously the best sugar cookies I've ever had and I'm your best customer. I'm pretty sure I am. Really."

"We love hearing things like that and we're so glad our cookies have impacted you in such a positive way!"

"Well, mostly they've impacted my butt but I guess I'll just keep buying them. Because if I stop buying them there's a real possibility you'll go out of business."

I've tried valiantly to duplicate this cookie recipe but without success.

Now listen up, if you go buy these cookies, don't look at the nutritional content. It'll ruin it for you. OBEY ME. Just enjoy them, despite the 170 calories, 7g fat, 29g carbs and 17g sugar.

Each.

I ate two. They cure migraines.

Dinnertime with the Karenpies or Why We Aren't the Cleavers

Warning: The following post contains inappropriate humor. Like you're surprised.

I'm on the kids all the time, to keep their hands to themselves when they eat. To stop touching each other and putting their fingers and hands in their siblings faces because that's how food gets spilled and how milk glasses get knocked over.

Because when full glasses of milk get spilled in my kitchen, I go postal. The splashing sound of liquid hitting the kitchen floor is enough to make me instantly berzerko. Whoever coined the phrase, "There's no use crying over spilt milk" is a bozo. A bozo who never cleaned up spilt milk. Milk that hit the floor and splashed 7 feet away. Milk that was spilled because somebody was messing around.

Please tell me I'm not alone in this.

Tonight at supper, Daniel was his usual goofy self. He was eating and at the same time, walking his fingers around his plate. He did it over and over, progressively getting closer to my plate. He knows better. As his walking fingers orbited his plate and approached mine for the 783rd time, I had had enough and I stabbed him with my fork. Startled, he jerked his hand back then started laughing. Then he looked for blood.

Oh COME ON. Like none of you have ever stabbed one of your children with your fork at the dinner table. Like I'm the only one.

After that, the conversation went something like this:

Matthew, seeing the commotion at the other end of the table, asked: "What'd you do, Mom?"

Me: "I stabbed Daniel's hand with my fork because he was messing around too close to my plate."

Katie: "I have an idea Mom! If someone messes around you should first whack them over the head and the second time fork them."

Me: "If someone is messing around at the dinner table I'll probably leave it -"

Daniel: (interrupting) " - for the professionals?"

Me: "Well, no, I meant to say 'wait' because every situation is different. Not every situation requires stabbing someone with a fork."

Matthew: "So you don't want to fork everybody?"

Katie: "Mom, have you ever been forked?"

Me: "Uuuuhh." Looking to Duane for A LITTLE HELP HERE because I'm finding it too difficult to keep a straight face. Of course he's off the kids' radar and is quietly sitting across from me. He's trying so hard to keep from laughing, he has tears in his eyes. He was thinking, "How the fork do we get out of this one?"

Katie: "What if Dad messes around? Will you fork him?"

Me: "You think I should fork Dad?"

Daniel: "Well, if he messes around . . ."

Me: "Oh yeah. Dad will definitely get forked. No question about it."

The end.

Fat Friday: Pumpkin Butterscotch Nutella Bread

Today is a first on Fat Friday - I'm doing a recipe I've never tried before. It'll be brand new for all of us but before the skepticism sets in let me point something out to you -

Pumpkin + Butterscotch + Nutella

Is there anything that could possibly go wrong? Seriously? You should trust me. Of course I've said that before and look where it got you. Probably into therapy. Or a liquor store.

So, ready to try this new recipe with me? Here's what you need and let's keep our fingers crossed!

2 c. flour

1 t. baking soda

1 t. ginger

1 t. cinnamon

1 t. nutmeg

1/2 c. butter - softened

3/4 c. sugar

2 eggs

1 c. pumpkin, not pie filling

1/2 c. butterscotch chips

2-3 T. nutella

Put 1/2 c. butter and 3/4 c. sugar in your mixer bowl. Cream them for several minutes.

Don't let the pictures of extra ingredients confuse you - I'm doubling the recipe. I'm still struggling with my large capacity mixer and it's inability to handle small quantities. That means if I don't like this recipe, I'll have 2 loaves. Woo hoo.

Add 2 eggs to the creamed butter and sugar, one at a time. Can I offer you a hint? Break your eggs into a separate bowl and pour them into the mixer one by one. It seems like I always get egg shell in them and have to fish it out. You know the best way to do that, right? Use the larger shell to fish out the smaller piece. The sharp edge of the shell seems to cut through the viscous white and makes it easier to grab the tiny piece.

These are small, farm-fresh eggs given to me by the Harmons last week. Two of these eggs equals one regular egg. If it looks like I'm using a lot of eggs it's because I am.

Here's another reason to break your eggs into a separate bowl -

See the bloody part? The egg isn't contaminated or anything - it has something to do with where the hen is in her reproductive cycle. But contaminated or not, I still don't want it in my pumpkin bread so I tossed it.

This concludes our home economics lesson for the day. Back to the recipe.

With the mixer running, add the eggs, one at a time until they're all incorporated. You'll probably have to scrape down the sides of the bowl a couple of times.

Now add 1 cup of pumpkin - make sure it's not pumpkin pie filling. Mix it thoroughly into the egg mixture.

Whisk all the dry ingredients - flour, baking soda, ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg - together in a separate bowl. Then, with the mixer running, add it to the pumpkin mixture.

Finally, fold in the butterscotch chips. If you have a pumpkin bread recipe that you love, feel free to use it and add 1/2 c. butterscotch chips.

Now comes the fun part. You'll need nutella. Oh my sweet Lord, nutella is clearly one of Your most fabulous creations.

You can see I have 2 different sizes. The smaller jar I bought a couple of weeks ago, knowing I was going to try this bread.

This is why I had to buy another jar. I opted for the larger size this time. HEY - quit judging me - I have self-control issues. So sue me.

Here's how you use the nutella (does anybody else hear a choir of angels singing every time I write that word? Just wondering.)

Spread half the batter in a greased 9x5 loaf pan. Put 2 or 3 big blobs of nutella (about a heaping tablespoon each) on top of the batter.

The nutella blob - it's controlling my hand - can't . . . resist . . . . being pulled . . . into nutella's gravitational field . . . must . . . hang on . . .

Scientific observation #1: nutella blob greatly reduced in size. Needs further study.

If your self control is greater than mine, here's what it should look like.

I used an offset spatula to spread it around. As you can see, I wasn't real concerned with what it looked like. I think the original recipe, which I found on Tasty Kitchen by cakeduchess, called for layering 1/3 batter - 2 T. nutella - 1/3 batter - 2 T. nutella - remaining batter, then swirling with a knife so you get that beautiful marbling inside the loaf. I was too busy licking nutella off the spoon to worry about that.

Maybe next time.

Bake it for 50 - 60 minutes at 350F. Again, a change from the original recipe. That called for baking it 30 minutes. When I baked it, I checked it at 30 minutes and the toothpick came out clean. But the loaf was a bit flat. I didn't think anything of it since the toothpick was clean so took it out of the oven. Here's what it looked like after cooling and cutting -

Cooked edges with a runny, batter middle. Gross. I had to start over and do it again. Maybe my brain was on nutella/sugar overload and stopped functioning because I KNEW BETTER. When I didn't see a pretty rounded loaf I should have known something wasn't right despite the clean toothpick. Sheesh.

Second time - success! I LOVE this bread. It's very moist and dense with fabulous flavor. I especially love that the nutella ribbon in the middle didn't soak into the bread, but stayed intact. Yumminess.

Make it for your family and they'll worship the ground you walk on.

Or maybe that's just the nutella talking.

Chapter Nineteen, In Which Country Kids Show What Freaks of Nature They Truly Are.

Every once in awhile I'll go through my digital pictures. I'll click through events and look at all we've been doing - sorta like looking at a scrapbook. Only it's on a monitor instead of in a nice book on the coffee table. Also, there are no captions or journaling. GAAAHHH - I feel guilty already.

So anyway, I look through them and find pics I've forgotten. Pictures around which I had entire blog posts planned. Pictures so interesting - so beautiful and touching - that it seems a shame to let them lie dormant, unknown to anyone but me.

Today I'm dusting some of them off.

Way back last June, when we were in Kansas, I posted a bunch of pics of the kids on the farm. There were the tractors and wheat fields, cousins and animals but I neglected one of the most important activities in which we engage when we go home - spider hunting.

Oh yes. Spider hunting.

And I can hear you - all of you - saying, "Eeeuww!"

OK, maybe that was me. Because I'm a sick, twisted individual. My fear and loathing of spiders is well-documented on this blog. So why - you ask - would I expose myself to nasty spiders on purpose?

Well, because it's . . . . um, uh . . . . and there's always . . . uh . . .

I have no idea.

My mom taught us how to do it when we were little kids. We grew up doing it when our friends came over or our city-cousins came to visit (hey - can we show you a good time in the country or WHAT?). My siblings and I have taught our kids to do it, too. What can I say? I guess I haven't grown out of it. I prefer knowing when and where I'll see the spider versus seeing one unexpectedly and having the crap scared out of me. I like control over my spider-sightings.

So, I bring you a beloved tradition, handed down generation to generation in my family:

Spider Hunting.

We begin by walking slowly around the field or in this case, Grandma and Grandpa's yard. We're looking for holes in the ground. These holes have a border of grass and webbing built up around the rim. I think they're some kind of trap-door spider but we always called them Wolf spiders. And they're big. And fast. And nasty.

I can't remember - why do I do this?

This particular hole is pretty big, as indicated by Daniel's thumb. And just so you know - the bigger the hole, the bigger the spider. Thought I should clarify that in case you couldn't figure it out yourself.

If you haven't yet realized, I'm a master at stating the obvious.

Tear down the spider's carefully constructed perimeter and expose the hole.

Start pouring water down the hole and have a stick handy.

OK, we're pouring water and pausing to look for the spider coming up. And we're pouring, pausing, looking, pouring, pausing, looking, and . . . . .

Jackpot. Big spider whom we have just completely pissed off by flooding its home.

"What the $%!?/#! Are you kidding me with the *!^#-ing water? I JUST CLEANED THIS PLACE UP. Darn you to heck you horrible humans!"

Try to distract your kids from the profanity being uttered by the spider and get the stick behind it. It may be mad but it also has a highly developed sense of self-preservation. It will try to go back down the tunnel despite the flooding and you need to block its way.

If it can't go back down the hole, it'll start running around. We don't do anything mean to the spider, we just freak ourselves out, looking at it. When we're done freaking out we'll guide it back to it's flooded home and let it go back down the hole. Then we'll move on to another one.

To nobody's surprise, this spider was a big 'un - around 2-3 inches long and with it's legs spread out, about 3-4 inches in diameter. I'm just very slightly freaking out as I write those words.

*shiver*

In this particular case, the spider went on the offense.

It tried to attack the stick.

And, if I could make a tiny suggestion? Click on the above pictures and they'll blow up to screen-size. You can see the freaky, nasty spider at 20 times his size.

Yep. You'll sleep well tonight.

At this point, we had an unexpected visitor to the farm -

My brother, Dan.

Ain't he purty? He's also a smart ass. Which is the highest compliment I can pay another human being.

Still think he's purty? Doesn't matter, we don't love him for his looks. We love him for his spider-hunting capabilities. Dan's the only one of us who ever had the nerve to touch - with his bare hands - one of the spiders we were abusing.

So of course his visit was providential. The kids and I begged him to participate.

"Will you do it? Huh? Can you pick it up? With your hands? Huh? Please? It'd be AWESOME." And that was just me talking.

Now, if you're going to try this at home, you have to prepare yourself. You have to be in the perfect position, above the spider, so you can grab it around it's thorax, or middle part, very slightly squeezing its legs so it can't move.

So, Dan was psyching himself up for this, kneeling on the ground, still dressed in his nice work clothes and here's what I said,

"Don't hurt it! Be careful and don't squeeze it too tightly, OK? DON'T HURT IT."

To which my brother responded, "What about me?"

Whatever.

Anyway, Uncle Dan successfully captured the spider and was preparing to give it a big smooch, to the horrified delight of my kids.

Uncle Dan is a rock star for that reason alone.

So, if you've ever had any doubts about my capabilities as a wildlife expert, I hope this post has put those to rest.

You're welcome.

Fat Friday: Candy Corn Cookies

I love Halloween!

As a Christian, I don't think I'm supposed to, but I can't help it. I think it's more about the sights and smells of fall than Halloween itself, but still. We don't do scary/gory/bloody corpses coming out of coffins. We do pumpkins and candy corn and smiley, friendly jack-o-lanterns. I love spicy-smelling candles and all the wonderful things we bake at this time of year. Things with apples and cinnamon and pumpkin.

And these cookies! I think they're going to be a Karenpie Halloween tradition - they were that fun to make.

I found the recipe on Tasty Kitchen last year and earmarked it to try later. Of course, later meant an entire year later. It's actually pretty amazing I even remembered it. But I'm so glad I found it again! These are the cutest darn cookies EVER. They're slightly high-maintenance but completely worth the effort.

Ready? Start with a sugar cookie recipe. You can use any you like. I like to use this one. I doubled the recipe and it was perfect. In addition to sugar cookie dough, you'll also need yellow and orange food coloring.

Let's get started!

Divide your dough into 3 equal portions. If you're OCD and have a kitchen scale it makes it easier. Each of my dough blobs weighed exactly a pound. Actually, if you aren't OCD and you have a kitchen scale, it will be easier.

On the other hand, if you are OCD and do not have a kitchen scale, you'll be paralyzed - completely unable to continue with these cookies - until you get one. Oh, and you'll be sucking your thumb in the fetal position too.

Good luck with that.

This concludes the empathetic segment of our broadcast.

Grab a loaf pan and line it with plastic wrap. If you slightly grease the pan it will keep the plastic wrap in place. Make sure the plastic wrap is long enough that it hangs over the sides of the pan.

Take one of the 3 dough blobs and pat it into the pan. Try to make it as level as possible.

Next, get your yellow food coloring out and color the 2nd blob. Don't you love my professional description? Blob. What a great word.

Put it on top of the white dough and pat it evenly into place.

You know what comes next, don't you? Uh-huh, get the orange food coloring and do the same thing to the final piece of dough. I mean blob.

Pat the orange dough on top of the yellow, for your third and final layer.

Is your arm tired from mixing food coloring into cookie dough? Mine was. Next time I plan on making three separate batches of cookie dough in my mixer and letting the mixer do the work.

Wrap it up and refrigerate it. I left mine overnight. The colder it is, the easier it is to work with because . . . .

- you're going to slice it in thin slices -

- and cut the slices into triangles.

Roll the triangles in sugar and place on an ungreased cookie sheet.

Bake 8 minutes at 375F (if you're using my recipe) and . . .

Voila! Aren't these the cutest cookies ever? EVER?

When I first started baking them, I was cutting the slices a little too thick. As they baked they spread out too much and lost their shape. I finally figured out - on the last batch I cut - that I could flatten each strip with my rolling pin.

The final batch of cookies was a bit smaller and flatter. I liked them better because they baked more evenly and held the triangle shape better.

I'm telling you, it just doesn't get any cuter than this.

Fabulosity. Yes, of course it's a word. Sheesh.

This past weekend found us in Denver for our niece's wedding. What a fun weekend!

. . . . aaaaaaand I wrote that 9 days ago. What's wrong with me? Why have I blown off Karenpie for an unprecedented 14 days? I mean, the guilt alone should have motivated me. But I must confess - guilt has never, ever been a motivator. I'm pretty good at rationalization, justification and any other -ation that helps me avoid the hard truth.

So, where were we? Oh yes, our niece's wedding! Which let me tell you was beyond fabulous. She is creative, artistic and very gutsy. She's also an architect. And organized.

She's an organized, gutsy, creative, artistic architect.

Or a gutsy, artistic, architectural, organizational creator.

Or maybe a . . .

Shutting up.

Let me start at the beginning and show you all the fabulous details.

When we checked into our hotel, we had a goodie bag waiting for us, marked with this cute tag. Alli (the bride) and her mom had made them for out-of-town guests. It had a map and bottled water and a bunch of candy in it. My kids gave it a very high score because of the candy alone.

And - speaking of hotels - we spent a lot of time in ours. Weddings are crazy busy. There was no time to just relax with the family and hang out. They all had to-do lists a mile long. I don't know why I was surprised - this particular wedding was full of cool little details and somebody had to follow through. But, that somebody wasn't us so we did a lot of relaxing.

And the kids did a lot of this . . . . . .

. . . and this. Be aware that the down escalator is on the left and up is on the right. My children have discovered the inimitable entertainment in going the opposite direction on a moving escalator.

I'm proud to say I taught them how to do it.

You should all be lucky enough to grow up with mothers who could care less about multiplication tables or learning Spanish but by gosh, we're gonna have us some red-neck fun on the big-city movin' stairs!

Yee.

Haw.

Continuing on . . .

The wedding and rehearsal were in a beautiful, old historic Methodist church in downtown Denver. It was made of this beautiful stone that you see in the walls behind the kids (if you can tear your eyes away from the sheer beauty of my children, all smiling perfectly for the camera).

There was beauty all around us!

The gorgeous bride and groom. Look at her headpiece - it was small with netting that covered just a tiny part of her hair. Very cool.

Beautiful maids-of-honor, cousins Emily and Madi!

Aunt Pam and Uncle Dave, the parents of the bride (Duane's sister and husband).

Duane's brother and his family.

Long-time friends, Lori and Dave. We all went through Jr. High and High school together. Lori and Duane have been friends since they were fetuses. Yes. It's possible.

Moving on, let's check out some more beautiful people. Our family is full of them.

Here is a beautiful usher, wearing a tux for the first time in his life . . .

. . . and beautiful gift attendants . . .

The beautiful gift attendant loved the bubbles -

Bubbles we blew as the wedding party left the church.

Then it was time for the reception! Oh the reception - talk about details - let me show you some fabulosity.

Centerpiece flowers in all shades of purple. Note the white feathers.

There was a mashed potato bar on the buffet. Served in martini glasses. You could choose mashed white or sweet potatoes with all manner of toppings. The kids were in heaven. Mashed potato heaven.

But this - this - was the most fun! A candy bar. A bar for candy. A buffet of purple candy! The centerpiece is a tall vase of white feathers and circling the vase were block letters spelling out "LOVE IS SWEET" and "I DO". There were apothecary jars, trifle bowls and vases full of M&M's, gum balls, gummy bears, rock candy, jordan almonds, malted milk balls - it went on and on. There were scoops by every jar so people could scoop out candy into small paper bags. Those were the wedding favors. No small net bags with 4 jordan almonds in them for my kids. Oh no, we went for the bucket-o-candy size.

It was so colorful and festive. I'm trying to think of some way, short of having a wedding reception again, to do this - maybe for a Christmas party or Halloween party? Wouldn't that be fun to let your guests go crazy at the end of the night and serve themselves a little take-home treat? Just what we need for a Halloween party - more candy at the end of the night.

We had a blast! Did I already say that? And we got to dress up.

It isn't very often we all get to be high maintenance at the same time.