Showing posts with label MidWeek Mini. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MidWeek Mini. Show all posts

Thursday, October 22, 2015

MidWeek Mini: Apple Pecan Cookies


Does your town have a Halloween Parade? My husband's hometown does, and these were the cookies I baked to take along last night when we camped out on my in-laws' front sidewalk all evening, watching marching bands and firetrucks and collecting candy tossed generously by local business owners. They are also a stellar choice for a Fall Festival, an Autumn Extravaganza, or a Harvest Party. Loaded with crunchy pecans, fresh apple bits, and a quiet hint of Christmas-y sweetness in the sugary glaze, these are the cookies for any and all celebrations this season.


I developed the recipe from a Pecan Oatmeal Cookie recipe in a little dessert book I have, with the apple added in because Henry can say "apple" and suggested we add some.

You Will Need:
1 apple
1/2 C pecans
1 stick butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup lightly packed light brown sugar
1 egg
3/4 C flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/3 C oatmeal

To Make:
Preheat the oven to 350 and prepare two cookie sheets (no need to grease them).

Chop your apple into a small dice. Chop pecans finely. Set these aside.


With a hand mixer, beat 1 stick butter and 1/2 C packed light brown sugar (press it firmly into the measuring cup, but don't pack it excessively).

Beat in 1 egg. Remove beaters from mixing bowl and scrape batter off carefully.

Stir in pecans and apples gently with a wooden spoon.

Using a sifter, sift in 3/4 C flour and 1/2 tsp baking powder into the mixing bowl.

Add 1/3 C oatmeal and stir slowly with a wooden spoon. Do not overmix; it will become extremely sticky. Stop mixing as soon as all dry ingredients are incorporated.


Using a floured hand, carefully form small balls of dough and press gently onto cookie sheets.


Bake for 15 minutes, watching for browning around the edges. Remove from oven and move carefully to wire cooking racks.

When completely cool, you can serve as-is, or add this yummy glaze.

Whisk 1/2 C powdered sugar with 1/2 T milk. Drizzle lightly over cookies. It won't exactly harden, but it will firm a little bit.


The one downside to these cookies is that they do not store very well. In a ziploc bag or an airtight container, they will become quite soft, which is not the preferred texture. The upside to all this is that you are forced to eat them all in one sitting!

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

MidWeek Mini: Goals


One week into July, I think it's fair to say that summer's nearing its apex. We're a week away from being halfway through summer vacation. Though I love the easy breezy carefree summertime life of a school employee, I also like the chance to take advantage of extra time to accomplish some tasks that seem overwhelming when the school year is in full swing.

So I'm giving you a chance to keep me accountable for the last six weeks of summer by setting some concrete goals.

1. Organize my filing cabinet

2. Clean all the windows in the house

3. Make grape and/or gooseberry jelly

4. Give my wardrobe another purging

5. Finish Les Miserables

6. Go to the county courthouse and get all the historical background on our house

7. Check out mint.com for organizing our budget

What do you think? Am I crazy? Maybe. But concrete items help me feel like I'm making the most of my time. If you're motivated by lists like I am, join me and post a goal or two of your own!

Thursday, June 25, 2015

MidWeek Mini: Other Lives


Henry and I have been taking more frequent walks over the past week or so. To the library or around the streets and blocks to the south of us, deeper into town. One night I smelled somebody's spaghetti and meatballs from a kitchen window. Sometimes I see an arrival home from work, hear the car radio shut off as a commute ends. Yesterday a couple with white hair was sitting on a porch swing as I walked by. On the weekends, lots of people mow lawns and work on cars.

In every home I pass, men and women and children are carving out a life, chipping away what's unimportant and polishing the things that matter most to them. All I see is a front yard, a porch or garden or clothesline, a car in the driveway. It's just the threshold of a whole world.

Somehow neighbors have a different effect on me than my friends and acquaintances. With people I know, there's always a level of comparison. But as I walk through my town, instead of feeling like I have to measure up - though some houses I pass put my own shaggy gardens and peeling paint to shame - I feel freed from comparison. Seeing real houses where real other people really live and eat and sleep and quarrel and laugh and make plans and pay bills, draws me into the collective story that we all share. It doesn't matter if the house is shabby or immaculately groomed. It's the center of somebody's world, the place where somebody wakes up and starts each new day, the place where dreams are born.

By the time I push the stroller back into the driveway, I think of my own life a little differently. When the sun rises into my bedroom window, it's rising in hundreds of others too. When I'm cooking dinner, dozens of other ovens are also heating up. The weeds in my garden are spreading seeds across the neighborhood, making weeding work for gardeners blocks away. The story of my days is just one among a million stories, all crossing one another in tiny intersections that I may never see.

Perhaps this is obvious for you. But sometimes I get embarrassingly wrapped up in my own life. Thankfully, all it takes to gain a little perspective is a walk across town.


Friday, June 12, 2015

Extreme Housewives



Homeward Bound, Emily Matchar
Simon and Schuster, 2013, 250 pages


You’re a female college graduate. Smart, creative, efficient, organized. You’ve had a great job, loved it, and then you’ve fallen in love. Gotten married. Had a baby or two. And in a matter of just a few years, your priorities lurch off your well-planned course onto one you didn’t expect. No longer do you have a passion for staying late at the office and fine-tuning reports. You spend lunch meetings texting the babysitter under the table. You wonder more and more about the safety of jarred baby food and long for time to puree your own in the kitchen.  

This is just one of many stories that send working women across the nation packing up their office desks and setting up shop as homemakers. These are the lives Emily Matchar explores in Homeward Bound: Why Women are Embracing the New Domesticity. Matchar takes a look at the arenas in which women are recently returning to the home and the reasons for the growing trend. With a healthy mix of history lessons, anecdotal evidence, and diplomatic opinion, Matchar’s book reads smoothly enough for poolside lounging, but is hearty enough that you’ll find yourself hmm-ing thoughtfully throughout.

So why are women today - in the post-feminist world - finding the tasks of homemaking appealing again? If your social media feeds are anything like mine, your friends are baking their own bread, growing their own veggies, canning jam, making soap, sewing clothes, raising chickens, and using cloth diapers. Is a young woman’s future today redefined as we experience a swing from our parents' generation, that saw the dawning of vaccines and microwave meals and two-earner families, to the extreme opposite, in which any help from "the man" is seen as risky and all of life is funneled through a DIY filter?

Matchar finds a few key motivators. A backlash of feminism found women feeling trapped in the much-longed-for role of a wage-earner. Instead of feeling triumphant as top-tier managers, women discovered they no longer knew the things their grandmas did – how to make soup from scratch or knit a scarf – and they were no longer satisfied being ignorant about the domestic arts. Couple this with a recession that hit nearly every sector of the economy, and women had fewer and fewer reasons to desire work outside the home. They headed home in droves and changed the face of homemaking. “The symbolism around homemade items began to shift,” Matchar says. “If a jar of home-canned tomatoes was once a sign of poverty, it now became a sign of an enlightened attitude toward food and the environment. If an apron was once a symbol of oppression, it was now a kitschy-cool reminder of the joys of cooking.”

Moms were particularly inspired to leave the workforce, especially considering that “the United States is the only country in the developed world without guaranteed paid maternity leave.” The unfriendliness of the American workplace toward the American mom left disappointed women across the nation. “Feminism raised women’s expectations for career satisfaction, but the larger culture didn’t rise up to meet these expectations,” says Matchar in a chapter called The Emergence of the Hipster Homemaker. 

While so-called “DIY Parenting” is one expression of the New Domesticity – homeschooling, co-sleeping, natural childbirth, homemade baby food, extended breast-feeding, eschewing vaccines – a DIY lifestyle not just for moms. Childless women also find the return to homemaker status satisfying. Earning a living from internet-based businesses like Etsy, setting up an off-grid homesteading lifestyle, or just taking a little more time to live self-sufficiently appeal to women with any number of reasons to reject the American Dream. Distrust for the FDA, the CDC, and the corporate sector make carving out your own living seem much safer than relying on American culture and industry. Matchar sums up the DIY life: “This new style of home-focused, sustainability-minded living seems to offer an answer to the opt-out question for creative, educated women… New Domesticity moms imbue their days with meaning and purpose in doing not only what’s right for their family but what the believe is right for the entire world.”

My response to all this is necessarily couched in my own experience: a college-educated woman who graduated in the 2000’s, a wife and mom who cut back to part-time after the birth of my son, a fridge homesteader who grows veggies in the backyard and buys local whole (but not raw) milk for my little boy to drink. Before looking objectively at the trend, I stamp down the temptation to dismiss domesticity simply because I haven’t drenched myself in it. Mommy Guilt is real. Homemaker Guilt is equally real. Though most women in my age category have at least dipped their toes in homemade domestic life, the idea that all-in is the ideal way to live can leave guilty women hiding storebought cereal high in the cabinet when friends come to visit. So I’ll tease out my reactions and try to leave emotions behind.

Firstly, some red flags go up when I read quotes from career women turned homesteaders like “When you start producing your own food, even the simplest plot of potatoes, your life regains some of the authenticity we’ve all forgotten about.” Homegrown potatoes fried in butter make an awesome breakfast, but if your life’s authenticity depends on harvesting vegetables, you’ve missed something crucial. Matchar points out the overlap between Mormons, lesbian couples, Christian wives, and end-of-the-spectrum political liberals, all of whom find themselves drawn by the pull of new domestic life. Christian wives might not expect to find solidarity from such a diverse group of peers. I fear that many, though, put the homemade life on the pedestal that should be reserved for a Christ-made life. When value and meaning are found in shelves lined with home-canned jam and handmade soap, the domestic goddess has overstepped her bounds. Like any obsession, domestic living can become life-consuming.

Secondly, and I take this point from Matchar’s concluding chapter, the New Domesticity is most often connected to the upper-middle-class who have the luxury to quit their jobs and sustain their own homegrown lifestyles. Women in lower-class settings “don’t have time to breast-feed for three weeks, let alone three years.” Wives who canned tomatoes as “just another chore for women whose fingers were already worked down to the bone” won’t see the do-it-yourself foodie-ism with the same romantic nostalgia as wives who left a successful boardroom career to live off a quarter-acre garden. It’s important to acknowledge this if we self-righteously refuse to buy a jar of Smucker’s.

Finally, I think cultural feminism, which argues that “some gender inequality is actually just ‘gender difference’ and that we should honor women’s (and men’s) natural, inherent natures,” actually aligns properly with the Christian ethos of feminine skills. A biblical worldview would never suggest that women should be banned from business or confined to a round-the-clock job of knitting, baking, and gardening. But it’s clear that women and men are created differently and the New Domesticity appropriately recognizes that. Women climbing the career ladder or delaying child-bearing because they love their jobs aren’t necessarily making a wrong choice. But if and when they find themselves fed up with the American workplace or without enough hours in the day to balance mothering and working, there should be no shame in reorganizing life to resemble the traditional housewife. On the other hand, there should also be no shame in a lifestyle that includes dinner at Wendy’s every once in a while. No woman need feel guilted into extreme domestic life. With kindness and fairness, Emily Matchar pries open the doors on the lives of today’s young women and gives a neutral assessment of the twenty-first century housewife’s successes as well as the potential dangers of diving in too deep. Grab a glass of homemade iced tea and take a fresh look at New Domesticity this summer with Homeward Bound.

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

MidWeek Mini: Just Believe


I'll be honest: I’m writing today with an agenda. We need votes in order for our home to win a new roof and I’m going to be asking for yours. We’re one of four finalists in Berks County to win a free new roof installed by Mast Roofing and Construction. Three weeks of voting will determine the winner.


We bought our home in 2012 and it was clear from the first time we set foot inside that owing it would be a dream come true. It’s exactly what we love: historic, full of slanted floors and high ceilings and behemoth radiators and tons of charm. But lest you think it’s purely dreamy, let me assure you that we’ve had our share of nightmares. Flooded basement, bats in bedrooms, scraping old paint from the gingerbread front porch, clogged drains, mice in the pantry, fallen gutters, and a leaking roof. We’ve been overwhelmingly blessed with solutions for most of these issues and have been given so much help in upkeeping our precious dinosaur of a home. But the need for a new roof is one we don’t think we can manage alone. We don't know exactly what ours would cost to replace, but with two main roof sections (one of which is veeeery high) and two porches, we know it would be pretty steep. No pun intended.

If our house were smaller - and closer to the ground - we would reshingle it ourselves with friends as volunteer labor. We tried to get some insurance money for hail damage, but were told that most of the damage up there is not from hail. It's just an old, tired, weather-beaten, dying roof.

For months now, I’ve been called back again and again to the passage in Mark 5 about Jesus raising the dead little girl. While Jesus is on his way to heal her from an illness, the messengers bring word that she has died. They tell the grieving father, "Don’t bother Jesus anymore. It’s all over now." The dad, I imagine, feels his heart break. His last thread of hope is snipped in a single second.

But Christ ignores the naysayers. I picture him cupping the dad’s crying face in his hands, forcing him to meet His eyes. "Don’t be afraid. Just believe," He says. In the absence of an easy solution, He promises something better. He essentially says "What looks like death to you is actually a chance to show off my power." And He rolls up His sleeves and you know that whatever happens next is a miracle. So we've put the crushing burden of our dying roof into God's hands and asked Him for a miracle.

Maybe this contest is our miracle. Maybe it's not. If we're not the winning house on June 21st, then we know there's another answer to this desperate need.

But as we pray for an answer - any answer - I ask you to vote. As of today, we're in second place and there are 18 days of voting left. You can cast one vote per email address here. And if you're willing, please share this post, or the voting link, with your friends and family members and communities and ask them to vote.  

And when your hope is lost and you're about to quit, listen closely and you'll hear Him tell you the same thing: "Why are you discouraged? Why are you giving up? Don’t be afraid. It's not over. It's all just about to begin. Just believe."

Thursday, May 28, 2015

MidWeek Mini: Cloth Diapering for Toddlers


Henry's been in cloth diapers since he was about 8 weeks old. To be fair, he never actually wore them full-time. I always used a combination of cloth and disposable, switching to disposable while the cloth were in the laundry cycle, and always using disposable overnight. He's 16 months old now (that's almost one-and-a-half, if you're trying to calculate), and we're still using BumGenius 4.0 about half the time. 

Since we're successfully cloth-diapering on a 30-lb pre-toddler, I thought it would be helpful to give some feedback on this stage, for those who might be jumping into cloth diapering for the first time, or who are a few steps behind us in the process and worried about losing heart.   

What makes cloth-diapering a toddler possible - at least for me - is using throwaway liners which go inside the cloth diaper to catch the solids. They're about $10 for 200, or a nickel each. (Disposable diapers are between 20 and 35 cents each.) It didn't matter when he was a tiny baby and was just producing that grainy breastmilk poop. At that point, I didn't even bother to rinse out the diaper. The whole thing just went right in the washer. But once he started on solid food, especially once he moved from baby food to actual table food, the diapers got a lot messier to manage.  

These liners are a lifesaver because I no longer have to carry a poop-filled diaper from the nursery to the bathroom, use a spatula to scrape poop off the diaper into the toilet, and then return to the nursery to put the diaper in my washing bag, all while managing to keep the child on the changing table and/or away from the soiled diaper. I just pull the liner out, poop and all, and toss the whole thing in the trash. The diapers are then much less messy when washing time comes. I use these liners.   



My part-time cloth-diaper routine is also a lifesaver. I could not do this if I had to keep the cloths in constant rotation. My routine usually goes like this: On Friday afternoon when I get home from work, I have the diapers clean and assembled and ready to go. I start using them then, and use them for the weekend. I have 12 and that is just about perfect for Friday evening, Saturday, and Sunday. Then I wash them, usually on Sunday night.

The entire wash process is long. I do a short (35 minute) cold cycle first, which is basically for rinsing. Then I do a long hot cycle (my machine calls it "Bright Whites"), and I add an extra rinse for a total time of 1 and a half hours. For both cycles, I use this detergent which you can find at WalMart. When they're done, I put the inserts in the dryer, and hang the covers on a drying rack. If I do this in the evening, they are dry by morning. Or I might run the wash overnight, then start the drying process when I get up in the morning and they're dry by the time I get home from work.

On most Mondays Henry goes to spend the morning with my mother-in-law, so I send disposable along with him while he's not at home and I get the cloth ones ready to start up that afternoon. Tuesday and Wednesday we're back to cloth diapers again and I usually get through most (maybe 10) of the 12 total diapers by Wednesday evening. Then I go back to disposables for a day or two, and get the cloth ones all washed and ready for the weekend again.


There are a LOT of opinions about how to wash cloth diapers. Stripping? Bleach? Vinegar? My BumGenius diapers are supposed to be washed only in BumGenius detergent. I confess that I do not buy the special detergent. I've gone with the simple wisdom from GroVia, a company that makes cloth diapers and also makes the disposable liners I use. Their recommendation is to keep the wash routine simple, use enough detergent, wash for a long enough time, and not add anything additional to the washer. The routine I describe has been effective in keeping my diapers clean. I do use bleach about once a month, since that is recommended by BumGenius for these diapers. And when possible, I let them dry in the sun, or lay out in the sun after drying. A good sun-bleach freshens them up.


From the start, one of my main considerations in choosing part-time cloth-diapering was saving money. Yes, it was also an environmental choice, and definitely a traditionalist choice, but primarily I was hoping to save some cash. The compromise we're using is definitely accomplishing that. A $25 box of diapers can go pretty fast. Using cloth part-time is a huge benefit. Surprisingly, I have not even seen any significant change in our water bill from the extra loads of laundry.

At this point, I'm planning on cloth-diapering all the way until Henry is potty-trained. We love our routine and love these diapers!

Please comment with any questions or with your cloth-diapering experience. 

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

MidWeek Mini: Desserts to Die(t) For


Desserts were the first food I ever made. Christmas cookies with my mom and sister every Black Friday since I can remember. Then, later, pecan pies for Thanksgiving when I was still young enough to need help chopping the pecans. Over time, I branched out into other pies, cobblers, cakes, frostings, cookies, and scones, and now the Desserts section of my recipe box is twice as fat as any other section.

A few years ago, my sister bought me 101 Desserts to Eat Before You Die(t) for my birthday. I treated it like a novel, reading the recipes with mounting excitement, turning to a new chapter with palpable anticipation. Some of the recipes were wildly intimidating (Orange Creme Caramel with a real whole vanilla bean? Classic Sponge complete with warnings about not using a wooden spoon?), but some were just difficult enough to tempt me. Valentine's Day this year was the perfect excuse to be brave and check one of the 101 off my list, so I let Peter pick which recipe to try: Devil's Food Cake with Strawberry Cream.

Everything went well - the from-scratch cake, the slicing of the cake into two layers, my first ganache, the strawberry cream - until it was time for the chocolate curls. That one-sentence instruction, "Using a knife at a 45-degree angle, form long, thin curls by pushing the knife through the chocolate," was an unsolvable riddle. No matter which way I held the knife or pushed it through the thin sheet of melted and chilled chocolate, I could not get curls to roll up. It was hopeless. I had to settle for chocolate shards instead. And ultimately, when I served it, at our Brothers and Sisters Valentine's Dinner, I found the cake a bit dry. I think I baked it a bit too long. Thank goodness for that strawberry cream in the middle!


Since the cake was mostly a success, I turned to 101 Desserts again a few weeks ago, when we were hosting Pete's dad and mom for dinner. I picked a dessert from the chapter called "Sweet, Creamy, and Sticky Delights." It was Fresh Fruit Pavlova.

A pavlova is a meringue topped with whipped cream and fresh fruit. Whipped cream is easy for me. Two cups of heavy cream, some powdered sugar, maybe a bit of vanilla extract. Hit it with an electric beater for a few minutes, and it's heaven. For the top I chopped up bananas, strawberries, and kiwis, and swapped blueberries for the traditional passion fruit pulp

But I'd never made a meringue before.

Even worse, I didn't even know if I liked meringue.

Meringue is mostly egg whites and sugar with a bit of cornstarch and vinegar. I followed the directions, and finally, as promised, the "soft peaks formed" and the meringue was "stiff and glossy." After baking and cooling, the meringue had a large crack across the top, but it was "pale and crisp." Perfect, according to the recipe.

After we had our dinner, I topped it with the cream and fruit, hoping for the best. I sliced it into big wedges, served it up, poured coffees, and then - finally - we tasted it.


Oh, wow. We fell hard for this dessert. Even Pete, who doesn't even like dessert, loved it. The meringue had a crispy shell and a soft, marshmallowy, ultra-sweet center. It was rich, but not sickeningly so, airy enough and fresh enough to keep from being heavy. A dessert that's 50% whipped cream? Count me in!

I am no kind of fancy chef. But making a pavlova sure made me feel like one. The leftover meringue even stayed crispy in the fridge!

And so, success. 101 Desserts, you've got me hooked. Two down. Ninety-nine more to go.