Nutty Choco-Oatmeal Cookies

These cookies ended up being gifts to my coworkers out at the cab company. I assume they loved them. Heard no reports of food poisoning ...

I'm not a big chocolate chip cookie fan, but if I am craving said cookie, this is my favorite recipe on the entire planet. I found this recipe a few years ago, probably from Family Circle, and it's been cut out and hung on my fridge ever since. When I was in newspapers, I liked to whip up a batch of these from time-to-time. I don't make them as often anymore because Ryan's a purist and isn't a fan of healthy stuff (oatmeal) in his cookies.

These are seriously good though.

Nutty Choco-Oatmeal Cookies
1 1/4 c. flour
1 tsp. baking soda
3/4 tsp. salt
1 c. (two sticks) butter, at room temperature
1 c. brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla extract
3 c. old fashioned oats (I use rolled oats that I find at the natural foods store)
1 c. chocolate chips
3/4 c. chopped walnuts (optional)

Heat oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl, whisk flour, baking soda and salt. In a large bowl, take your electric mixer to the butter and brown sugar. Beat until fluffy, add eggs and vanilla and mix until incorporated. The recipe says to use your mixer for the next part, but I always make a godawful mess, so I use my wooden spoon and fold the flour mixture into the egg/sugar stuff. Mix until just combined. Then add the oats, chips and nuts.

Place these bad boys on your cookie sheet about two inches apart. Typically, my little dough balls are about 1 inch in diameter, etc. Bake for 11 to 13 minutes.

Eat. Love. Thank me later.

The method to my madness

I’m not sure what it is about me and cookbooks, but I’m pretty sure it’s genetic. As I’ve patiently explained to Ryan, there is no real good reason that I have about fifty cookbooks, ranging in specialty from Indian food to 1970s Lutheran cooking madness, but I love each and every one of them.

Just like my mom does. Just like my Aunt Sue does. And just like both of my grandmas did. Some of my greatest treasures are cookbooks I got from my grandmas, their handwriting populating the corners of recipes that they tried and liked, recipes that they meant to someday make for their families and recipes that totally flopped when they tried to reproduce them in their kitchens. (A note from one of my grandma’s cookbooks: “BAD!” OK, grandma – I won’t make that one.)

When I would go to church festivals with my mom or if we were anywhere that sold an organization’s cookbooks, my mom would always buy three – one for her, one for my Aunt Sue and one for my Grandma Boots. I now have many of those cookbooks that once belonged to my grandma and there’s something right about that. And now if I see a unique cookbook, I’ll buy three copies – one for my mom, one for Suzie and one for me.

My Grandma Boots is currently in a nursing home and she’s gone to that place in Alzheimer’s where many people can’t reach her. But some of the best times that I had visiting her in the home when she was coherent were the times that I’d pick up a current copy of “Taste of Home” or Paula Deen’s cooking magazine and bring them in to page through with her. We would talk about the things that I would make for Ryan and how much recipes changed – how Chinese food used to be a rarity for American housewives to make and how now everyone has a go-to recipe for their own version of Sesame Chicken.

No matter how much my grandma’s mind has slipped over the past decade, there is one moment that cemented her reputation as one of the ultimate bakers in my mind. I was living in Wisconsin and tried to make a cranberry cake with a buttercream sauce. My mom always made it for me, it was one of my favorites and I wanted to try to recreate that dessert for some friends. The cake turned out fabulously, but the sauce never thickened properly.

So I came home and had coffee with my grandma and grandpa. When I told grandma what happened to the sauce, she immediately narrowed her eyes. “Which cookbook did you use?” I told her which one. “Whose recipe was it?” I told her the cook. “Hmpfh,” Grandma said. “Well, she can’t cook.” Grandma turned to where she had her handwritten recipe files. “Next time, use this one.”

And next time I make that cranberry cake, Grandma – I will.

Smoky tomato and black bean soup

Two words: Hot damn! Followed by one with many syllables: Yeee-oooooooo-w.

I had some leftover chipolte peppers in adobo sauce lurking in my fridge and found this recipe when I was trolling for ideas out in the blogosphere. It combines two of my favorite things - black beans and tomatoes. What an awesome idea for a soup! Right? Well, sort of. Ryan and I nearly offed a gallon of milk trying to eat our respective bowls of soup. It's very good, but very hot. I will make this when I am ill and trying to clear out my sinuses. Or else, I'll decrease the amount of peppers that I put in this bad boy.

Smoky Tomato and Black Bean Soup

Source: Caviarandcodfish.com

serves a few hungry people as a first-course or lunch

2 teaspoons olive oil

1 onion, diced

3 garlic cloves, minced

half of one (7 oz.) can of chipolte peppers in adobo, with sauce (I'd halve this amount)

1 (30 oz.) can black beans, drained

1 (28 oz.) can fire-roasted whole tomatoes, with liquid

1 cup water

1 small bunch fresh oregano (I omitted)

salt, pepper

Take half of peppers out of the can, split them open with a paring knife and scrape out the seeds. *(This part is a pain in the arse, but if you don't get rid of the seeds, this will be even hotter.) Discard seeds. Chop peppers. Add oil into a big saucepan or medium dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add onions, cooking until they begin to brown. Add garlic and chilis and about half the adobo sauce. Cook for a few minutes. Add black beans and tomatoes with liquid and water. Break up the tomatoes with a wooden spoon, leaving them in chunks. Bring to a boil. Skim off the foam if you are particular like that, and then lower the heat. Add fresh oregano and simmer gently for the flavors to meld, 15 minutes if you are famished, 45 minutes if you can wait. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

**Another note - Ryan and I were starving the other night and had some of this soup in the fridge and some leftover rice from our jambalaya. So I combined 'em. And it tasted excellent. Keep this in mind for a second-day makeover or something like that.

Guest Post! Creamy Potato Soup

This recipe (and pictures) comes from my friend Lindsey. A couple of comments about Lindsey - a) she knows good potato soup - her mom has a recipe that is to die for and is loved by many ex-DJs from KWLC and b) she knows good cooking in general and if you ever need a Tastefully Simple consultant, let me know and I'll hook you up with her.

This recipe comes from Jessica Seinfeld's cookbook "Deceptively Delicious" where Ms. Seinfeld very sneakily hides all sorts of healthy schtuff in what would typically be viewed as comfort food. Lindsey made the potato soup and even added in some broccoli for an extra healthy factor.

Creamy Potato Soup

from Deceptively Delicious by Jessica Seinfeld (with a few LT twists) 

• Nonstick cooking spray
• 2 teaspoons olive oil
• 1 small onion, chopped
• 1 clove garlic, cut in half
• 2 (14-ounce) cans reduced-fat low-sodium chicken broth
• 2 pounds potatoes, any kind, peeled and chopped
• ½ cup cauliflower puree
• 1 ½ cups butternut squash or carrot puree
• 1 cup lowfat (1%)buttermilk **
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 1/4 cup shredded reduced-fat Cheddar cheese (optional)
• store-bought croutons (optional)

Coat a large pot with cooking spray and set it over medium heat. When the pot is hot, add the oil, onion, and then the garlic, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is soft but not brown, 5 to 6 minutes. Add the broth and potatoes and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, partially covered, until the potatoes are tender, 20 to 25 minutes. Carefully spoon the mixture into a blender or food processor and add the vegetable purees, buttermilk, and salt; puree until smooth. Ladle into bowls and sprinkle with cheese, if you like. (Here’s where LT added some steamed broccoli to her dish. One word: Yum.)

**Don’t have buttermilk? Don’t fret. An easy substitution for buttermilk is to take 1 c. of milk and add 1 tablespoon of white vinegar or lemon juice. Wait for about five minutes and presto – you have buttermilk. Or an uncanny substitute.

Shelley's New Best Friend

A dear friend of mine just had a baby and I've promised food that she can throw in her freezer. OK - that's not too difficult, but finding the perfect recipe is. So, I went to my handy stash of recipes to try in Google Docs and found one for a Tuscan Stoup that sounds good and sounds like something that her other two children might actually eat. One problem - it calls for an ingredient that I've never heard of. And for once, Wikipedia didn't really steer me in the right direction.

So ... I went to recipezaar.com and since I'm fancying myself these days as a novice foodie, I actually signed up for their free membership and posted my dilemma on their community board. Not 15 minutes later, I received reply from people who are far more knowledgeable than I am.

Recipezaar ... I think I love you.

A blast from the distant past

A couple of my readers might remember my Great-Grandma Florence Ewing, but unfortunately for the rest of you, Grandma Ewing went to her heavenly home about 15 years ago and there's no one else like her in this world.

First and foremost, my grandma was tiny - she came up to about my chest. That lady was chin-high, but damn could she cook and bake. I can close my eyes and remember exactly what she looked like - my grandpa Stan favored her in looks and oh, how my grandpa loved his mom. All of the Ewing kids adored her, so did her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren. I would give anything for a loaf of her lemon poppyseed bread. My mom almost cried the day that she opened grandma's last jar of homemade pickles.

One of the things that is maddening about losing someone like my great-grandma is that many of her recipes came from the confines of her head - the lady rarely wrote anything down. So to find this one, with little to no explanation - is a sweet surprise. Even if its just a road map.

Fried Green Tomatoes
by Florence Ewing


Green tomato Seasoned flour
Bacon grease

Stem and wash a green tomato. Slice it round. Roll in seasoned flour. Fry in bacon grease or oleo. Try these for supper. Very good.

Grandma didn't waste words, y'all.

Guinness Cupcakes

When my buddy Erin suggested we have a meal where every recipe had alcohol in it, there was only one that I could think of turning to (instead of just trying to make my mom's vodka slush): Guinness cupcakes. I had run into a recipe for these lovely, stout-laced cakes on a food blog and decided to make them for my friends. And yes friends, it is very, very good.

Guinness Cupcakes
by Dave Lieberman
12 ounces Guinness® stout
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup vegetable oil (I substituted applesauce for a "lighter" recipe.)
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
3 large eggs
3/4 cup sour cream
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder, plus more for garnish
2 cups sugar
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

For the Frosting:
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
1/3 cup heavy cream
3 c. powdered sugar (eyeball it and don't be afraid to try the frosting to make sure it tastes what you want it to be.)
cocoa powder for dusting

Preheat oven to 350°F. In a large mixing bowl, combine the Guinness®, milk, vegetable oil, and vanilla. Beat in the eggs one at a time. Mix in the sour cream. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the cocoa, sugar, flour, and baking soda. Gradually mix the dry ingredients into the wet Guinness® mixture. Butter 24 muffin tins and divide the batter among the muffin tins.

Bake 25 minutes until risen and set in the middle but still soft and tender. Cool before turning out of the tins.

Make the frosting:
Beat the cream cheese in a bowl until light and fluffy. Gradually beat in the heavy cream. Slowly mix in the confectioner's sugar. Top each cupcake with a heap of frosting and dust with cocoa.