Happy 4th of Halloween Eve!
To celebrate the magic of Halloween, this year I decided to make a candy inspired by … 4th of July fireworks.
When I was a girl, I though fireworks and firecrackers were so beautiful—pretty enough to eat—and I desperately wanted to know what they taste like. Fortunately my sensible sister Emily dissuaded me from taking a big bite of fiery sparkler.
This candy tastes like you just ate a firecracker, but without the hassle of having to re-grow your eyebrows. First it’s sweet and hot, then there’s an explosion in your mouth, followed by a bit of lingering smoke.
The recipe for chipotle pepitas makes far more than needed for the chocolate bark, and that’s fine by me. The salty, smoky seeds make an excellent crunchy snack.
Goodbye ice cream trucks and picnics and ripe tomatoes.
Goodbye road trips and outdoor concerts. Goodbye action blockbusters in air conditioned theaters. Goodbye lemonade.
Goodbye s’mores and dandelions and thunderstorms and fireworks. Goodbye reruns and strappy sandals. Goodbye sunburns. Goodbye baseball and crickets chirping.
Goodbye fresh cherries.
I’ve been sitting on these cookies. I mean, I’ve been sitting on the recipe for these cookies.
I first made these delightful treats nearly two years ago for a bake sale. My singer/actor friends (Mickey and Judy) and I needed to raise money to produce a musical. The show was in August, and it didn’t seem right to post about cinnamon-kissed cookies perfect for Christmastime in the sweltering summer heat.
So I tucked the recipe away, and made a mental to note to share the recipe closer to the holidays. Then I forgot about them entirely until somewhere around St. Patrick’s Day 2012. Well, shoot, I thought (except I probably thought a stronger word than ‘shoot’). Now I’ll have to wait another eight months before I can post this recipe! How will I sleep at night, knowing all my imaginary internet friends will be again deprived of my snickerdoodles with cinnamon chips?
As it turns out, I slept just fine. Christmas 2012 came and went, and I forgot, once more, to share the recipe. I’m pretty sure that if I file this recipe away again, by the time you get it, you’ll be able to bake the cookies in the glove compartment of your flying car.
I suppose you could serve them for Valentine’s Day, with some line about your sweet-hot cinnamon love. But that’s your business.
Continue reading for the Snickerdoodles with Cinnamon Chips recipe.
Happy Holidays, imaginary internet friends! And congratulations on surviving the end of the world. Now I’m off to Barnes and Noble to demand a refund for my Mayan wall calendar. Wish me luck!
In the meantime, I hope you’ll take another look at the 10 most popular recipes I shared this year.
S’mores Fried Ice Cream with Chipotle Chocolate Sauce
Asparagus Lasagna with Pancetta, Goat Cheese, and Lemon
Baked Churros with Cinnamon Ice Cream and Dulce de Leche
Loaded Baked Potato Grilled Cheese Sandwich
Cinnamon Roll Grilled Cheese Sandwich
Homemade Oatmeal Cream Pies
Toffee Cashew Cookies
Chicken Pot Pie Soup with Pie Crust Crackers
Jalapeno Popper Grilled Cheese Sandwich
And the most popular recipe of 2012:
Pepperoni Stuffed Chicken Breasts
Here’s to a delicious (and gooey) new year!
Dear Martha Stewart,
When I read your recipe for Aunt Maggie’s Jam Thumbprint Cookies, I had the highest of hopes. See, I had this jar of fig jam in the fridge, and I wanted to use it for something special. I’d spent countless hours perusing Pinterest boards when I came across your simple recipe for what seemed to be the perfect vehicle for my sweet, figgy spread.
The cookie that came to be in my galley kitchen, however, was nothing like the cookie you (and your commentariat) described.
And yes, I’ll admit that I didn’t exactly follow your recipe to the letter. It’s true—I browned the butter then cooled it in the fridge before creaming it with the sugar.
But still! Should that have affected the recipe to such a dramatic degree that instead of a perfectly round, soft, chewy confection, I ended up with a charmingly misshapen, tender, delicate shortbread? Really, if it weren’t for the sweet-sticky figs and $8 worth of pine nuts, this cookie would be nothing but an over-sized, nutty bite of heaven that melts in your mouth.
It’s lucky for you that this cookie turned out as beautifully as it did. Your reputation was really on the line.
Bake Up, Little Suzy
It’s embarrassing how much time I spend thinking about recipes I want to try. I’ll start with the germ of an idea (say, a pear dessert for Mom’s birthday dinner). Then I’ll spend weeks – maybe months – considering the options: pear tart, pear cobbler, pear cake, pear sorbet… And when I finally decide on the perfect recipe, I abandon the idea entirely because I’m terrified of making a mistake. (Yeah, I never said my process was a healthy one.)
In this case, the paralyzing fear was invoked by the menace of homemade caramel sauce—it’s the easiest thing in the world to ruin. I think if I ever get around to recording another CD, it’ll be called Ways to Ruin Caramel, with forlorn country ballads like “Too Runny,” “Too Hard,” “Bitter and Scorched,” and “Grains of Sand.”
It took no less than three glasses of cheap wine for me to face my caramelized fear, and I’m so drunk—I mean, I’m so happy that I did! This caramel sauce is the perfect texture (creamy but not too thick), with the subtlest bite of sea salt and just enough booze. *hiccup*
The other components of the recipe – poached pears, sweetened mascarpone, flaky puff pastry, and toasted pistachios—are a cinch to prepare, yet every bit as delicious as the bourbon caramel.
Continue reading for the Poached Pear Napoleons with Bourbon Caramel Sauce recipe
It’s my 2nd blogiversary! That’s right, imaginary internet friends, Galley Kitchen turns two this month.
I plan to celebrate the terrible twos by having a temper tantrum in the grocery store and demanding TWO stories at bedtime. Or maybe I’ll make a pie. I haven’t decided yet.
A year ago in my one-year blogiversary post, I set a couple goals for the 2011-2012 blog year, and I’m feeling pretty good about my progress. I learned to cook fabulous dinners on an unemployed lady’s budget, I learned to take decent photos after sunset, and, thanks to Handsome Greg, I have three new adverbs at the ready (frostingly, gravily, and somewhatkumquat).
The very first recipe I shared on Galley Kitchen was inspired by an overabundance of apples, so today I’m sharing another apple recipe. This Pear and Apple Crostata is a perfect fall treat; the filling has just enough sugar and cinnamon to turn the apple and pear juices into a luxurious sauce, barely coating the tender fruit snuggled under a flaky duvet of pie crust. Next time I’ll brush the pie crust with egg wash—it was a tiny bit dry—but I’ll otherwise follow the recipe as is.
Continue reading for the Pear and Apple Crostata recipe