Recipe of the Week: Sausage Muffin Bites

Just dropping by to say check out this week's recipe, Sausage Muffin Bites - perfect for this Sunday's Big Game.

Happy cooking,

Geauxxxxxxx, SEC

For Big Orange fans, it has been the winter of our discontent. (Thank you, Master Shakespeare for this and so many other apt quotes.)  We had little to cheer about during the regular season, and no post-holiday bowl games to bring us cheer.

But the BCS championship tonight means at least one SEC team will be the national champs.  And it also marks the official end of the 2011 college football season.

Finis, finale, omega, terminus, The End.

Turn the last page and close the book.  May next fall be better.

Disclaimer:  in case you don't know us well, we are SO not Alabama fans (I prefer to think that big red "A" on the back of all those Alabama cars stands for an adjective.  One that aptly fits all those Tide fans who revel in being drunk, belligerent and obnoxious, especially on game days.  Hey, don't act like the backside of a mule, and we won't be reduced to thinking of you as such.)


And we're really not fans of the Tigers either - especially after the 2010 robbery we endured at their hands. 

That said, I thought I would at least tip my figurative chef's hat to the two teams matching up tonight.  The main dish goes to LSU with some hearty, spicy chicken and shrimp gumbo; the recipe is courtesy of one of my childhood friends.  It was at her dinner table  that I was first introduced to the wonderfulness that is gumbo, so I'm excited to try her family recipe.    To balance things, dessert is a nod to Alabama's legendary coach, a Bear Bryant chew cake.  (I have no idea what Coach Saban likes to eat, and I highly doubt I'll ever really care.)

I just hope that one year in the not-so-distant future we're not sitting at home during bowl week, but instead we're somewhere singing "Rocky Top" until we're hoarse and cheering our boys to a bowl victory after a solid, soul-satisfying winning season.

Happy eating,



P.S. If you're wondering if I am still making it a point to make Sundays our day of rest, the answer is yes!  In fact, I had a long grocery and supplies list after cleaning house this past Saturday.  I was tempted to put it off and make a Sunday afternoon shopping trip, but I bit the bullet and went on  Saturday evening.  I was quickly and repeatedly reminded just how blessed I am to be able to shop during the day on weekdays.  I think 7 pm on a Saturday night is cranky time for every child being dragged around a store by an equally cranky parent.  But because I restocked the pantry when I did, our Sunday lunch was quickly put together (hot Hawaiian ham and cheese sandwiches) and Sunday evening was crockpot full of hearty loaded potato soup.  In between was time for football, a little online work, my daily Bible reading....and a nap.

Counting my blessings

"Thanksgiving" by Norman Rockwell

I wrapped up my Thankful Thursdays series last week.  I'll let you decide if it was intentional or a miscalculation.  (Before you decide, remember I do hold degrees in accounting and finance.  On the other hand, I'd rather balance a buzzing chainsaw than our checkbook.)

Anyhoo.


The six-week countdown was a good reminder of just how much of my life falls under the blanket heading of "blessings."  But they are/were pretty general in nature, and occasionally I suspect God likes to hear some specific thank-you's from me.  So here's just the tip of the iceberg of detailed things I'm grateful for, from A to Z. Some of these are more profound than others, but really - shouldn't we be grateful for everything we have been given, whether it's inconsequential or completely essential to our life?

A is for Anthony Shea.  Oldest son, owner of Sadie, my beloved grandpuppy.  He was our parenting guinea pig, and seems to have survived his childhood with a fairly well-adjusted outlook on life, and has become a confident, fun and capable young man.

B is for books.  Starting with the Bible and winding my way through cookbooks, Dr. Seuss, my beloved literary giants, even frothy fiction on the beach.  Books are one of life's greatest and simplest pleasures.  The smell of bookstores and books, new or old, the way the spine creaks when you open a book for the first time.  And the way a well-crafted story draws you into it, and makes you feel and think differently when you've finished reading it.

C is for chocolate.  It is and will always be my favorite flavor in the whole wide world.  Creamy milk or smooth and dark - it's all good.

D is for David Brice.  Younger son, and the child everyone would vote as most like his mama in so many ways.  He too somehow survived his "wonder years" under our parentage and has a way of looking at things that is uniquely his own.  Life with Brice will never, ever be dull.

E is for Eden:  my birth family.  My grandparents, aunts, uncles and my parents and brother all bear this name and they surround me with love, and I love 'em back.  Without them, I wouldn't be!

F is for football.  It took me a long time to be able to say I love the game, but recently on a trip home (after another frustrating defeat), the car was filled with football talk about the game and upcoming high school matchups that would lead up to the state final championship. And I realized I was in my element.

G is for gardening.  There is something about watching seeds become seedlings and the smell of fresh-turned dirt in the spring that brings me in tune with the One who created me and everything I see when I'm down on hands and knees, tending to things of this earth.

H is for Highland Heights Church of Christ. My spiritual family.  May God bless every one of my brothers and sisters.  It's not about the place, it's about the people and the faith and hope we share.

I is for ice cream.  Homemade is best.  A hot fudge sundae can cure almost anything, and an offer to slip out for some ice cream can make an ordinary evening rather extraordinary.

J is for Jesus.  He is my savior, my king, my teacher, my brother.  Everything I need to know about living in this world, I can learn from His example and teachings.  Without Him, I would have no hope for anything beyond this life.

K is for kisses from the dogs.  Puppy kisses are wet and sloppy and their doggy breath is stinky.  But they love me and  never tire of letting me know they do.  The trust and unconditional love of a dog is a treasured gift.

L is for Lea.  Many years ago, my husband's family opened their hearts and shared their name with me. My mother-in-law is an amazing and precious woman, my brothers- and sister-in-law are as close as blood.  You don't marry your spouse's family, but I think I got a pretty good deal when I married into this one.

M is for marshmallows. Roasted and toasted, or all soft and gooey floating on hot, hot chocolate.  Everyone's life should include some puffy goodness every now and again.

N is for needlework.  From the time I was a child, the women in my life taught me to use my hands to sew, embroider, crochet and knit.  Admittedly, I am not an artistic person by nature, but with a needle in hand, I can create something useful, soft to touch, and pretty to look at.  I'm grateful to those who taught me, and I've enjoyed teaching others.  It's a pass-along gift from one generation to the next.

O is for the Olympics. For thousands of years, humans have pushed their bodies in order to compete against each other.  Watching Olympic athletes is both inspiring and deluding - they make it look so effortless we sometimes forget how much blood, sweat, pain and tears it took them to reach the place where they are.  But it's a marvelous tradition that has stood the test of time, and continues to challenge us to be better tomorrow than we are today.

P is for polish.  I have a plethora of polishing and cleaning concoctions.  The smell of furniture polish says the house is clean.  Squeaky shiny mirrors and doors let light sparkle and glow.  The simple act of buffing and polishing something from dull and dirty to a soft sheen or high polish reminds me of how God works to remove my rough edges and and dirty spots.  Not to mention, a fresh coat of polish on my toes can make me happy from head to toe.

Q is for Q-tips.  Pure genius.  So small, so soft, and yet so totally useful. And cheap.  Really.  Just try to imagine life without them and then you'll be thankful for them, too.

R is for rainy days.  There is something healing and soothing in hearing rain drop to earth.  It's a cool respite in the middle of summer, a gentle noise that can lull us to sleep.  Naps on a rainy day?  Pure, simple pleasure.

S is for Shelby. Our youngest child and only daughter.  Swimmer girl is a beautiful creature inside and out.  I am humbled by her faith, and awed by her capacity to love and understand others, and her love of God and life. Sooner than I care to think about, she will be ready to strike out on her own, and I can't wait to see how her life turns out.

T is for Tony.  Aka Mr. Official.  And truly, my better half.  God must have thought a lot of me to put this man in my life.  There's so much more I could say, but if you know him, you know why I love him with my whole heart.

U is for uniforms, especially those worn by men and women who defend and protect us.  Since ancient times, soldiers have worn clothing that sets them apart from civilians, and I am always proud and humbled when I find myself standing next to a member of our military, whether they are in their dress blues or whites, or fatigues.  They have stepped up to the line and set themselves apart by their actions and their attire, and they have my undying admiration and respect.

V is for vacations. In my life, I've been privileged to visit from sea to shining sea and quite a few of the places in between.  The thrill of packing in anticipation of a trip, experiencing new vistas and foods, finding just the right keepsake to bring home, and finally returning to our own beds after some time away gives us memories that last a lifetime, and sometimes a new-found perspective.

W is for water.  It's not only what we're largely made of, but it replenishes us when we drink it, invigorates us when we jump in, cleanses and calms children (and adults) before bedtime, and reminds us of God's power and presence when we see his handiwork in thundering waterfalls, mirror-like lakes and pounding ocean waves.

X is for Xerox and X-rays, and all the other marvels of the technological age we live in, where we can replicate anything at the touch of a button, and peer inside our bodies and see babies growing, pinpoint cancerous tumors to remove, and see broken bones that can be made good as new.  We live in a truly amazing era.  And what we know now simply points out how much more we don't know.

Y is for yoga.  It is part physical, creating flexibility, strength and balance.  It's also part mental, soothing and calming with steady breathing and focused attention.  An hour of yoga is an hour well spent.

Z is for the zillions of blessings I haven't begun to list here.  Try to count your blessings, I dare you. They are infinite and they just keep coming, so keep enjoying the life you have and thank God for the the good things He sends your way.  As Harriet Beecher Stowe so eloquently put it,

"Give this one day to thanks, to joy, to gratitude."

Today is the big day.  It starts with the Macy's Day Parade (shout out to Evan O'Neal, who will be marching in it!) and turkey and all the trimmings. I pray for safe travels for all of us going "over the river and through the woods," and an edifying and peaceful day of giving thanks for all we have.

Happy Thanksgiving,

A dilettante's dither

Last Sunday morning, we had an unhappy surprise:  we discovered we were out of checks. Using up the last of our checks is not a bad thing, considering we moved back in May.  (We only write one, maybe two checks a week, so it took a while to whittle down the last of the old ones.  But somehow I missed the important REORDER NOW reminder when I snagged the last batch.  Oops.

Checks are fast becoming a throwback to the good old days.  Our adult children have checks, but they almost never have to write one.  Everything is swipe-and-go these days.  Except writing one on Sunday morning, and the occasional check to a friend for something-or-other.

But I still like checks - I always have.  At least I like picking out checks. Before it was de rigueur to personalize every. stinkin. thing. you own, your personal checks were one way to express something unique about you.  We have never had plain blue security checks.   I've always tried to take into consideration that Mr. Official has to use the checks, too and pick out something that was expressive but not too girly. Pre-internet I would hold onto the glossy Sunday newspaper inserts and pore over them until I found the "right" design for the next order - that was back in the day when I actually had to write a half-dozen checks each month to pay our bills.

The internet has made it simultaneously easier and more difficult to choose a design; there are dozens of places to order from, and they all have a plethora of designs to choose from.

This time, I vacillated between some gender-neutral graphic design, a landscape scene, or just a monogram.  But in my heart I really wanted something more "me."  Like Twitter-page swirly branches.  Or owls.  Yes....owls.  But Mr. Official is not a lover of swirly branches or graphical owls.

And then I had an epiphany.  We have a joint account, but where is it written we have to have just one kind of check? Move over, "his 'n hers" checks.  Make room for "his checks." and "her checks."

I  can't believe it took me this long to reach that conclusion but it certainly opened up a whole world of wonderful possibilities. And so I dug around and found these checks:

Referee checks from checksadvantage.com

But after looking at the 2nd and 3rd checks, I knew were really too European and/or Canadian football-looking.

So I chose these instead for him:

Collegiate checks from currentcatalogchecks.com

And for me, I chose these:

challis and roos design from bradfordexchange.com

So no more dithering. The checks are in the mail and hopefully one set or the other will arrive by Saturday!

Happy self-expressions,

Super Sunday

For many years, Super Bowl Sunday was a red letter day on my calendar because it signaled the end of another football season.  I love Mr. Official and he loves football, but it took me a while to share his love of the game, especially when the season starts in April with spring scrimmages and goes to February.

Some years we've gone to Super Bowl parties where I've helped wrangle food and chatted throughout the game, pausing our girl talk just long enough to watch the commercials.  This year was a quiet year at home; swimmer girl went to a friend's house and Mr. Official was at my mother-in-law's for the first half of the game.  What's a dilettante to do when she doesn't have a buffet of food to tend to?

After grabbing a quick late afternoon nap, I made a date with my desk and the laundry room.  As the stupor of my eBay spree wears off, I realize I haven't seen my desk blotter since I put it on the desk on January 1.  (So much for my clean desk resolution, huh?)  And that laundry fairy is AWOL again.  So I washed and tidied in between commercials, and even got rid of some magazines and old catalogs that were gathering dust in my bookshelves.

And now the 2010 football season is officially over, I think I'm actually looking forward to the 2011 season.  May our Vols pick up the pieces and re-establish themselves as an SEC powerhouse.  May the Titans find a new head coach as good as Jeff Fisher, and a new quarterback that's better than Vince Young. (First one is a tall order, second one should be pretty easy.)

And may my desk and laundry room keep themselves a little tidier, at least for a while.

Happy Sunday

Recipe of the week: Runzas

Today I'm showing my roots, both literally and figuratively.  (My hairdresser will take care of one of those problems soon; in the meantime, we'll concentrate on my figurative childhood roots, which were grown in that good Nebraska farming soil.)

Runzas (pronounced just like you think: RUN-za) are a handful of warm comfort food, a "hot pocket" meaty sandwich that goes back to the late 1700s. Runzas became a fast-food phenomenon in the midwest in the mid-20th century, and I have enjoyed them since I was a youngster and have made them for my own children to eat as a meal or quick snack. As bowl games get underway, I try to balance easy-to-fix snackage with hearty, wholesome foods. Runzas fit the bill perfectly on both counts. You can make them with frozen bread dough, or make your own favorite plain bread dough.

The recipe for bread dough here is adapted from a basic bread recipe in Mary Gubser's "Mary's Bread Basket & Soup Kettle" cookbook and turns out reliably delicious white bread dough each time I use it.

Runzas

Ingredients for Dough
2 loaves frozen bread dough, thawed and brought to room temperature
OR

1 package (or tablespoon) dry active yeast
1/3 cup warm water
1 1/2 cups milk, scalded and cooled
1 1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 tablespoon sugar
2 tablespoons melted butter
4-4 1/2 cups white flour (I prefer King Arthur's bread flour; can use all-purpose flour)


Ingredients for Filling
1 pound lean ground beef
1/2 head cabbage, shredded (about 3 cups)
1 cup shredded carrots
1 medium onion, diced (1-2 cups)
salt & pepper to taste
10-12 slices American cheese (optional but HIGHLY recommended)

Directions:
If using frozen dough, you'll need to make sure the loaves are completely thawed and warmed and relaxed (you may thaw them in the refrigerator overnight, then move the loaves to a counter and cover with a tea towel to finish warming and softening - the "dethawing" process cannot be shortcut.)

If making bread dough, combine yeast, water and sugar in large bowl. Allow yeast to "proof" (begin to bubble and expand), then add milk, melted butter and salt.  Begin adding flour one cup at a time, until a soft dough is formed.  Turn onto lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and satiny, about ten minutes (or use heavy mixer with dough hook.)  Place dough in large greased bowl, turn to coat. Cover with plastic wrap and a cotton tea towel, allow to double in bulk, about 1 hour.

Once the dough is ready to roll, make filling by placing all ingredients except cheese in large skillet.  Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently. Cover in between stirrings to speed up wilting of vegetables. Once the beef is brown and the vegetables are softened, drain well.  Set aside to cool slightly.

Divide dough in half (or use one loaf at a time) and roll out dough on lightly floured surface into a 10x18 rectangle. Cut into 6-inch squares (you should wind up with 10 or 12 pieces of dough.)  Place a slice of cheese in center of each square and top with a generous spoonful of filling.  Pinch corners together, easing sides of dough into a "knot" on the bottom of the bun.  Place runzas, seam side down on greased cookie sheet.  Repeat with second half of dough.  When all runzas are made, allow to rise another 30-40 minutes, then bake at 375 for 15 minutes or until golden brown.  Brush with butter (I always brush mine with milk or cream first, then rub with butter.) Allow to cool before serving. Can be refrigerated or frozen, then reheated.  Makes 10-12 runzas.

These are a bit of a "labor of love" especially if you are making the dough from scratch.  But you can make up a batch, then refrigerate or freeze them to reheat later.  Runzas are a delicious, easy way to get even picky eaters (pint size or full-grown ones) to nosh on some cabbage and carrots, and love the experience.

Happy eating,

The things we do for love

Just like the old 10cc song.

I love my husband (aka Mr. Official), and he loves football. So this Black Friday morning I arose before 4:30 a.m., just like many other women. But I wasn't headed out to find the Christmas bargains and drag them back to the cave. No, I was getting up to drive 50 miles and take him to the airport so he could catch a flight back to Nashville.

It's Friday, do you know where your husband will be tonight? I do - mine will be on a high school football field, wearing black and white. Tonight he will be in South Pittsburg, home of Lodge Cookware, the folks who make that wonderful dutch oven I got for my birthday.  (I love to cook, and Mr. Official loves me, so it seems we all have things we do for love.)

This is the first year he's gotten a state semi-final game.  While I would love to have him with us for the entire holiday weekend (and have him share the drive home on Sunday), I'm proud for him and I'm happy he's doing what he loves to do.

Happy Friday,

On the road again...

The trip to the University of Georgia game in Athens a few weeks ago meant rising early to get on the  road, but that pales in comparison to the time we are heading out today, in order to get to  the Williams-Brice stadium in Columbia, South Carolina, in time for the 12:21 kickoff.

Wish us luck, and cheer for our Vols - they could use all the well-wishes they can get this season.

Happy traveling!

When You Bleed Orange

With apologies to Thomas Paine...

"These are the times that try men's souls. The fairweather fan will, in this crisis, shrink from loyalty to his team; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. A losing season, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value."

It is great to be a Tennessee Vol...but admittedly, it's not very fun this year.  It took me a long time to warm up to Tennessee football, and even longer to instantly break out in song whenever I hear "Rocky Top."  But having been grafted into a Vol family, I now have orange blood coursing through my veins too.  So through thick and thin, I will continue to sport orange nail polish on my toes, wear orange shirts and dresses, and carry an orange purse and wear my "T" earrings with pride. 

And looking on the bright side:

1. Lane who?
2. Any win from now to the end of the season will be a happy surprise.  Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is to beat Vandy. (And Kentucky, if that isn't asking too much.)
3. Alabama fell.  I'm not adding the Spurrier family to my Christmas card list, but the enemy of our enemy is our friend.
4. True fans quietly persevere.  Losing seasons help thin the herd of the blowhards and bloviators that give the rest of us a bad rep.
5. The UT team we know and love will return.  There are countless talented young men out there, practicing and playing their hearts out on Friday nights, and dreaming of a chance to run through the T.

Happy Monday,

Fall comes to Big Orange Country

Indeed, Tennessee is Big Orange Country and it's God's Country. (Why else would He have made sunsets orange?) All half-joking and state pride bragging aside, it is time for fall and football - game two for Dooley and the boys today; the season opener for Jeff Fisher and our own Titans on Sunday. Who cares if the calendar says it's technically fall or not? It's in the air and it's in our hearts. The hot tub is a perfect 100 degrees; the outdoor fireplace is all set with kindling and logs.

Yesterday I switched my blog background and header and now it's time for the orange blitz:  orange jerseys, orange t-shirts, orange blankets, and orange pumpkins - and a new baby blue sweater for Sunday's Code Blue.

The weekend's plans included a Friday evening dinner and catching-up time in Clarksville with some very dear friends from Oklahoma.  Saying prayers for a safe trip home for this sweet family and wishing a special young man godspeed in his travels when he deploys with his unit on Monday.  We'll be counting down the days until he's back.

This morning it was time to drag the fall decorations out of the attic (some years that doesn't happen until late October, but this year, I've got the "bug" early.) Here's the mantel before (this spring) and now: 

And may the Lord have mercy on me if I step foot in Hobby Lobby while I'm in this weakened state - the smell of craft items will surely cause me to swoon and/or deliriously buy everything in sight.  (Must remain strong. Must remain away from craft stores...)

Tonight, us girls will rustle up some chicken wraps and catch the UT-Oregon game on ESPN.  It's a 6:00 kickoff so I encouraged Mr. Official to take our oldest son with him since I need to have my wits about me if I'm going to teach on Sunday morning.

It's also time to keep one ear to the ground for sleigh bells...the first Christmas commercial is undoubtedly on its way.  (Hmmm, if only I watched TV with any regularity these days, I might win our family contest to see who sees/hears the first one of the season.)

Happy fall, y'all!

P.S. I hope we will all take a moment today to meditate on the events of nine years ago:
those who died,
those who survived,
and those who have sacrificed so much to keep us safe ever since.

 

Auld Lang Syne and all that.

Random thought for the day: will we say "two thousand and ten" or "twenty-ten?" It should be interesting to see how we mere mortals refer to this year as we usher in the second decade of the 21st century.

For the first time in a long time, I managed to start the new year off right - the Christmas decs are all "snug in their beds" until next December. Most years, I'm lucky to have them down by the 2nd week of January, but I decided to get on the ball this time around. I also accomplished another first - I ran 3.5 miles, and bumped up the pace, too. Now that I've got the 5K goal under my belt, I'm ready to tackle longer runs, and maybe a half-marathon isn't such a stretch after all.

We ushered in the new year with a quiet evening at home. After braving the grocery store, I served up New Orleans-style oyster stew to start things off and provide comfort to my discouraged UT fan/husband as he watched the Vols lose to Virginia Tech at the Chik-Fil-A bowl. (At least he didn't drive down to Hotlanta and buy a ticket to watch the game!) A couple big steaks fed three of us (middle child opted to spend the night with us), along with some spicy shrimp, baked 'taters and crusty bread.

I've never been good at making or keeping resolutions, but that doesn't stop me from making a run at it every now and again. So this year, I resolve these five things (it's easy to remember if I can count 'em on one hand):

1. Show more hospitality. I love spending time with our friends and I love getting acquainted with new friends. Entertaining guests is a great motivator to clean the house and an excuse to create a decadent dessert. All upside, no downside.
   
2. Run the race. My energy level and outlook on life have certainly improved by introducing running to my life last spring. It seems like a good thing to continue.
3. Become more purposeful. As a good friend once advised, everyone has 24 hours in each day and we all manage to find time for the things we really want to do. So my goal is to consider what it is I really want to do each day, and tackle it like there's no tomorrow - because there may not be.
4. Become more prayerful. That's what my knees are for. Well, that and gardening and cleaning behind toilets.
   
5. Finish reading the Bible through. I started it in 2009 and made great strides; there's no sense in starting over just because it's a new year. I just need to finish what I started and then begin again.