25 Days of Christmas, Day 2: Son in Law Cookies

My mom discovered this recipe some time back and quickly added the cookie to her holiday repertoire. When you love something, you want the people you love to also love that thing. Unfortunately for my mother; my sisters and I were never huge fans of oatmeal raisin cookies so, you can imagine her delight when her son-in-laws both embraced the cookie with the fervor of a rabid Beiber fan, at long last vindicating her insistence on making them year after year after year.

Because Hugh is one of those sons-in-law, I decided to add the cookie to my holiday line-up as well. Because I'm sweet like that. And because I derive no pleasure from watching a grown man cry (contrary to popular opinion).

Also, the cookie has grown on me over the years. Eww, I just pictured cookies growing from my skin; that's nasty. Although....that would also be awesome. Or not. Depends on if you like oatmeal raisin cookies, I guess. And, you know, walking around with cookies sprouting from your body would probably not be the most tidy thing to do, crumbs and all, and, as usual, I digress...

Son in Law Cookies (AKA: Spicy Oatmeal Raisin Cookies)

1 pkg spice cake mix
1 cup quick-cooking oats (not old fashioned or instant)
2 eggs (I show 4 here because, like most recipes, I double the batch)
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup raisins

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease baking sheets (or, line sheets with parchment paper; that's what I do). Combine cake mix, oats, eggs and oil in large mixing bowl. Beat at low speed with electric mixer until blended. Stir in raisins. Drop by rounded spoonful onto baking sheets and bake until lightly browned, 9-12 minutes, depending on your oven. Remove to cooling rack. Store in Ziplock bags. Can be frozen for up to a month (or longer; I've hidden these from Hugh for MONTHS in the freezer and he says they still taste perfect. When he finds them).

25 Days of Christmas, Day One: Soft Gingerbread Cookies

The Teenager's volleyball team is trying to raise funds for their travels this winter and, yesterday, the group trouped through a tree farm, selecting trees to sell. The girls were more enthusiastic about the chore than I would have expected them to be and we now have an inventory of twenty Colorado Blue Spruce trees ($25 and up, you know, if you're in the market for a tree).

Also, the girls had fun, which, really makes the difference between "We have to cut trees to sell" and "We get to cut trees to sell"; big difference when dealing with teenagers, I assure you.

Once the tree cutting was done, I embarked on the holiday baking (FINALLY!), with a batch of soft gingerbread cookies which are one of Hugh's favorites. Until last night, they barely registered on the Man-Cub's radar, but, for whatever reason, he tried one last night and is now in love. Let this be a lesson, children: don 't knock it 'til you've tried it.

If you like the flavor of traditional gingerbread but enjoy a chewier cookie, this is the treat for you.

Soft Gingerbread Cookies

1 cup sugar            
3/4 cup Crisco
1/4 cup molasses
1 egg
2 cups flour
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground cloves
1/4 tsp. ground ginger
1/4 tsp. ground cardamon
1/4 tsp. salt
2 1/2 tsp. baking soda

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Beat sugar, shortening, molasses, and egg together until well combined. Dump in dry ingredients, stirring until ingredients are combined and a soft dough forms.

Roll dough into walnut-sized balls, generously coat each ball with sugar. Place balls on baking sheets (I line mine with parchment paper, no mess, easy clean-up!) and bake for 9-11 minutes, allowing cookies to bake for about a minute after tops begin to crack.

Remove cookies from baking sheets and allow to cool. Store in Ziploc bags, can be frozen for up to one month.

I always double this recipe since Hugh enjoys the cookies so much. I'm hoping I won't have to triple it since the Man-Cub has joined the gingerbread bandwagon. Time will tell.

Let the Wild Rumpus Begin, Take Two

Ok, so that didn't happen. The beginning of the baking, I mean. Despite my careful planning, the inventorying of the necessary ingredients and the liberal application of the mental coaching required to get the baking juices flowing, I neglected to factor in one very important thing when coordinating The Start of the Holiday Baking Extravaganza: the fact that I had a fundraising dinner to attend and would be unavailable to, you know...bake.

Ingredients and motivation are important; physical presence is crucial.

Sooo...I carefully checked my social calendar and I find myself completely available to begin the Extravaganza tonight. Barring that pesty exhaustion thing, obviously. Oh! And the possibility that I planned something else and forgot to write in in the social calendar.

As an aside, the Old Timers disease does run in my family.

I'm just sayin'.

Let the Wild Rumpus Begin!

Or, you know, the holiday baking, same diff.

So, yeah, I'm starting my baking this evening and, before you say that it is too early to start baking for Christmas, allow me to remind you that I traditionally make eight varieties of cookies, two types of sweet breads (not to be confused with sweetbreads because...no...just...NO) and four or five varieties of candy, so; the earlier I start, the earlier I finish (I know, like, duh).

Tonight, the madness begins with chewy gingerbread cookies and a couple of varieties of fudge. Assuming I don't fall asleep on the couch, that is. Which? All bets are off because, lately, I am tired, like, all the time.

I Blame the exhaustion on old age, which is appropriate, since I gained that new year, yesterday. I also gained a Cricut Imagine, however so; no complaints, here. Also, my family rocks the gift giving. Now, I just have to shake the exhaustion long enough to learn how to use the Imagine.

                                                      

Obviously, I'll do that while the cookies are baking. Because I clearly know how to party.

Another Year Older, 100% More Morbid

My Christmas cards are on order, following another epic battle for the perfect picture; this particular battle took a good year off my life, easily.

That's ok, though, because today is my birthday so; I get a new year. I mean, that's how that works, right? I gain a year? That's why they add up, right? That's actually sort of backwards, if you think about it; one year older is technically one year closer to death; shouldn't we count backwards?

Have a coffee and discuss.

Or, look at some pretty pictures and forget that I just connected my birthday with my mortality; that's what I'm going to do.

Sit still, the sooner she gets a good picture, the sooner this is over and I can go back to texting my boyfriend.

Stop pinching my nipple. I can do this alllll day; I don't have a boyfriend to text and the Bronco game doesn't start til two.

Do you think she'll notice that I am sticking a lightbulb up my nose? Crap, she noticed.

I did not sign up for a family that inflicts such abuse. I do, however, up the cuteness quotient of this photo session, exponentially.

See how much easier it would be if you would just feature ME on the card? Really, Motherrrr.

They Call it Stuffing For a Reason

Happy belated Thanksgiving! I would have posted earlier but I was busy recovering from a turkey coma, battling the crowds on Black Friday and decorating my front porch for Christmas; I've been busy, is what I'm saying.

Let's start with that turkey coma; caused by possibly the best damn turkey I have ever cooked. Actually, I"m blowing my own horn a bit here but; the entire meal was fabulous, representing my very best efforts to date. As I said, the turkey was absolute perfection, the gravy was easily the best that I have ever made (no lumps, right consistency, perfect flavor), my cranberry sauce was tart yet sweet, tangy but ending in a nice finish on the tongue (could have been the wine I substituted for cranberry juice, you know, maybe) and, to top it all off; everything came out of the oven and was on the table at the same time, that like, totally messes with the space/time continuum but; there it was.

"This is possibly the best looking turkey I have ever seen". Damn right, husband. Damn right.

Today, The Teenager and I braved the mall in Neighboring City. We didn't do any of that crazy-ass shopping at midnight crap, opting to get up at (the still unGodly hour of) 5:30 to make the drive. Happily, because so many crazy-ass people did do that shopping at midnight crap; The Teenager and I were able to shop in relative peace, grabbing fairly good bargains without ever once feeling the need to pepper spray our fellow shoppers.

Once we got home I set about decking the porch for Christmas and I am happy to say that the chore is complete. Hugh brought the tree down from the attic and, as I type this, we are waiting for him to set it up. We won't actually decorate it until tomorrow, however; I am exhausted from all the cooking, shopping and decorating and just want to eat my third helping of leftovers, heft my butt up the stairs and fall into yet another turkey coma. This time, though, I'll have to blame the stuffing.

 Why yes, Finnigan did enjoy his first Thanksgiving; thank you for asking.

I Just Had My Way With a Turkey

This year's organic free range sacrifice to the masses, also known as my Thanksgiving turkey, arrived Saturday. This morning, I removed the neck and giblet sack from his body cavities to simmer on the stove top for broth for my stuffing. I'm not sure how the turkey felt about having his personal space invaded like that but I'm really looking forward to that stuffing.

Last night, the Man-Cub and I baked the small sugar pumpkins for our pumpkin pie, which we will bake this evening while the above-mentioned turkey innards simmer away next to a saucepan of homemade cranberry sauce.

While all that delicious simmering and baking takes place, the Man-Cub and I are going to start on my village; I want it up before tomorrow so that I can concentrate on the turkey and the tree; the holiday spirit having finally invaded my soul, much like my fist invaded that poor turkey's nether-regions.

Tomorrow, we are having Oscar and Emily over for Thanksgiving dinner after which the pre-Christmas preparations will really get underway; The Teenager thinks that we should start our Black Friday shopping at midnight, when a majority of stores open for holiday business. This idea makes me frowny as I believe that 5:00 on Friday morning is plenty early for Black Friday shopping. Of course, the mere thought of shopping that day makes me frowny, whatever the ungodly hour involved, because, really; whatever happened to leisurely hitting the stores at 9:00 or 10:00? Did that go out of style along with cave drawings and wheel inventing? The Teenager thinks so.

So, you can imagine her confusion when I attempt to explain to her that stores used to wait until the day after Thanksgiving to begin their Christmas advertising, decorating, etc. Christmas carols never played on the radio before then, and; television specials featuring flying reindeer and snowmen that came alive were unseen until December 1st.

I miss the good old days.

Not enough to wait until December 1st to put up my tree, of course, just; in general.  And, now I'm off to plunge Tom Turkey into an ice-cold brine bath where he will spend the next twenty-four hours, marinating for a juicy finale.

Yeah, like that's the worst thing that has happened to him, today.