Friday Food: The Ponudo That Won't Quit

Friday

Short version: Pork chops, not-at-all-baked beans, bread and butter, green salad

Long version: I had a ton of beans left after forgetting to serve the pinto beans I made on Thursday. I thought maybe I could do something different with them by using some of the cooked beans to make baked beans. Except not actually bake them. And I didn't actually follow a recipe (as always), instead just adding in bacon, tomato juice, ketchup, mustard, vinegar, and maple syrup kind of at random.

I think I went too far in the mustard/vinegar direction, though, because they were much more tangy than regular baked beans. I loved this, but the boys weren't as enthused. They ate all their beans, but I think would have been happier with Grandma Brown's.

Then again, Grandma Brown isn't here and I am. Mom's Not-Baked Pickled Beans it is!

Random photo break:

The children eating popcorn at our newly expanded table. Poppy is in my chair, which she likes much better than her boring, safe chair with straps, because in my chair, she might fall off or crawl right up on the table. Excitement abounds.

Saturday

Short version: T-Bone steaks, rice, fried cabbage and onions, frozen green beans

Long version: I am seriously considering not serving rice again until my children are old enough to eat it without half of it ending up on the floor. It is a nightmare to clean up. It sticks to the floor, you see, so it can't be swept up easily. Little bits of it always remain.

Confession: I usually just leave the rice explosion on the floor until the morning, when it's dried and can be swept up completely. Unfortunately, Jack dropped his plate in the kitchen while he was carrying it from the table to the counter, leaving rice all over the exact middle of the kitchen. Couldn't leave that without it getting smashed into the floor, so I had to sweep and get on my hands and knees with a rag to get the stuck bits.

This is when I started to consider a ban on rice.

A. had another bowl of his ponudo. And still didn't finish it. I think it multiplies in the refrigerator, like loaves and fishes. Perhaps we should refer to it as the Miraculous Ponudo.

Sunday

Short version: Hamburgers, spaghetti with Marcella Hazan's Famous Sauce, green peas, coconut cookies with chocolate lentils

Long version: Well, I don't know how famous Marcella Hazan's four-ingredient sauce really is, but it's pretty famous online. I've read about it many times and finally decided to make it, largely because there is no chopping involved. All you do is simmer a can of tomatoes with a peeled onion and butter, then take the onion out and smash down the tomatoes. The fourth ingredient is salt.

Now, I've read at least one of Marcella Hazen's cookbooks. She's militant about using quality ingredients. In fact, I seem to remember in one of her recipes the instruction that if you didn't have the very best tomatoes on hand, not to even bother making the recipe. Given this, I'm pretty sure she would have chastised me severely for the liberties I took with her sauce. I used store-brand canned tomatoes, my onion was starting to go bad so I had to cut part of it away, and I used salted butter instead of unsalted.

It was still surprisingly good. It's not going to become my new favorite sauce--mostly because it doesn't have garlic in it, which doesn't seem right at all--but we enjoyed it.

I made our standard coconut-flour cookies for dessert--using honey instead of maple syrup this time--and proceeded to totally ruin the virtuous nature of these cookies by adding ersatz M&Ms.

Cubby and Charlie each brought home one of those plastic tubes topped with a plastic heart top on Valentine's Day with what I thought were M&Ms inside. So I thought I would use the M&Ms in place of chocolate chips in the cookies. But when I started to open the tubes, I noticed that they were knock-off M&Ms that for inexplicable reasons were called chocolate lentils.

Yes. Chocolate lentils. Is that supposed to be appetizing? If so, it fails miserably.

The candy wasn't particularly appetizing, either, with ingredients such as "natural waxes" and various dyes. I almost threw it away, but I knew Cubby and Charlie would be mad. So I completely ruined our virtuous cookies with luridly colored fake candy.

The original recipe states that the author used "allergen-free mini chocolate chips." I think "chocolate lentils" sounds just as virtuous, don't you? They're (not at all) lentils! Lentils are healthy! Too bad they're gross. I was the only one who thought so, though. Everyone else ate them.

Monday

Short version: Leftover hamburgers, leftover rice, ponudo for A., frozen green beans

Long version: We eat a lot of frozen peas and green beans. This is mostly because every member of the family will eat these. I could expand their palates with broccolini or bok choy, but those things aren't available around here anyway. Know what is available? Frozen green beans and peas. How convenient.

A. finished his ponudo, finally. But only the giant container in the refrigerator. There's another slightly-less giant container still in the freezer. I bet it's multiplying as we speak.

Tuesday

Short version: Chicken-fried steak with cream gravy, buckwheat waffles, frozen peas

Long version: I make buckwheat waffles almost every Sunday morning (buckwheat flour, melted butter and oil, eggs, a small amount of baking soda and salt, yogurt, and milk) and I always eat half a waffle straight from the waffle iron with nothing but butter while I'm cooking them. While I was doing this last time, it occurred to me I could try making a version of chicken and waffles, but with chicken-fried steak.

I ran out of rice, potatoes, and pasta this weekend, so it seemed as good a time as any to try it.

There was much confusion among the children seeing waffles on their plates at dinner. Without maple syrup. And it wasn't Sunday. WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?

They liked it, though, especially when I told them they could have a waffle with syrup after they ate their dinners.

Of course, this would normally be a meal laden with wheat flour, but my version was entirely gluten-free. I coated the steak with corn flour, the waffles are made with only buckwheat flour (buckwheat, despite the name, is naturally gluten-free), and the gravy is thickened with cornstarch. Ta da! Totally gluten-free chicken-fried steak and waffles that don't taste gross.

How trendy of me.

Wednesday

Short version: Sirloin steaks, fried bread, pan-fried sweet potatoes, frozen green beans

Long version: I walked in the door at 5:15 p.m. with all four children. We had been at a 4-H meeting. Whee.

Steaks on the griddle pan, bread fried on the pan after the steaks came off, very small pieces of sweet potato pan-fried in olive oil, frozen green beans in the microwave, and we were eating thirty minutes after I got home.

I am still very sincerely grateful that I don't have to do this every evening after working all day. Working women feeding families, I salute you.

Thursday

Short version: Pork chops with leftover cream gravy, garlic bread, green salad

Long version: Let's end with a beauty shot of the garlic bread, shall we?

Beautiful (and tasty) inside and out.

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

Wish Fulfillment by Mom

Charlie's absolute favorite books are the two collections of "Calvin and Hobbes" comics I bought for our cross-country road trip this summer. He loves Calvin and references him and his antics constantly*.

A couple of weeks ago while I was keeping Charlie company during his bath, he said, "You know, there's one way I wish I was like Calvin: He gets to have bubble baths."

Charlie isn't very demanding, and I think it didn't even occur to him to ask why he doesn't get to have bubble baths. The only time my kids have had bubble baths is at my parents' house. Because I am mean and don't feel they need to soak in anything other than water.

However.

Charlie doesn't ask for much and he's a good kid, so I decided to get him some bubble bath. Of course, being the sort of person I am, I couldn't just go to a store and get some Mr. Bubble. I don't want any of my children soaking in a tub of chemicals, but particularly not Poppy. Her eczema is much better, but not all the way gone, so I'm still very careful of her skin. Thus, I bought the fragrance-free, organic, plant-derived stuff on Amazon.

Poppy was very confused by the bubbles. Jack was enthused.

Charlie got to have the first bath. He was getting undressed to get in when he said, "Oh! I was so excited I almost forgot to say thank you!"

You're welcome, Charlie. Just remember this the next time I serve you squash.

* Of course, Calvin is a smart-ass and I've had to have some conversations with Charlie about not wanting to hear Calvin's smart talk coming out of Charlie's mouth. A favorite Calvin quote of both Cubby and Charlie's: "We're obeying the letter of the law, not the spirit."

A Table for the Generations

Some time ago, before we even left northern New York, my dad e-mailed me to let me know that my aunt wanted to find a new home for a dining room table my grandfather had made over fifty years ago. He went on to tell me it came with eight chairs and everything was solid oak. I believe he might have  said that even my children wouldn't be able to break this table.

I think we have a reputation.

Anyway, he asked if I wanted it. Hmmm, let me think on this . . . a free, solid oak table big enough for my somewhat large family and made by my grandfather? YES, PLEEEEEASE.

Of course, we were about to move cross-country, so we weren't going to bring it to New York. The logistics of picking this thing up involved the table getting moved to a different aunt's house in Wisconsin and A. driving a bit out of his way on his cross-country moving-truck journey with Cubby to pick it up there. It added about a day to his trip, but he has never regretted it. Because this table is, indeed, solid.

The chairs are heavy and not easy to knock over, which is also a consideration with my wrecking-ball sons.* There are enough chairs for all of us, with some left over for any visitors. And it has extra leaves, so I can make the table itself even bigger.

It's pretty big even without the leaves in it, so that's the way I left it since we got it.

Big enough for the first dinner at our new house.

It was big enough, but kind of barely. I sit next to Charlie at the table. He had a tendency to get right in my space while we were eating, which drove me crazy. I mean, I love my son, but I do not want him hanging on my arm while I'm trying to eat. And I don't need anything else to make me crazy during our already admittedly crazy-making meals.

I don't know why it took me so long to just put another dang leaf on the table. But yesterday, I did. I put in two, actually, for extra room to move (and get away from Charlie). It took me about five minutes, and now I'm freeeeee.

Look at all that room between the chairs! Hooray!

I also discovered when I was pulling the table apart to slide in the leaves that Grandpa put an actual gear on the track so it would slide easily.

Cool.

There's even one extra leaf if there should come a day that I decide I want even more space. Say, when I have three hulking teenage boys shoveling in food around my table. Ahem.

At the time my grandfather made this table, he himself had three hulking teenage boys, plus two daughters. I like to think he would appreciate that the table he made for them is being put to good use by one of his grandchildren and her rambunctious family.

Thanks, Grandpa. It was the perfect family table then, and it's the perfect family table now.

* Although a couple of them are already getting loose at the joints thanks to said sons dragging them across the floor to climb up to the kitchen cabinets. Sigh.

Edited to Add: I was apparently very off in my guess as to when the table was made. My dad set me straight: "Actually table was made by my Dad while he was a student at Boys Technical High School. Circa 1940. The idea was smart boys, would learn a trade, plumber, electrician etc. My Dad's trade was as a cabinet maker, at the time a high paying position. He finished high school and then started a one year extra apprenticeship at the school, part of the curriculum. Of course while he was in his last apprenticeship. WWII started, and like lot of 19 year olds he was drafted into the Army."

Friday Food: Ponudo on Repeat

Friday

Short version: Hamburger skillet casserole, green salad with ranch dressing

Long version: Still sick of the kitchen after a week of baking, but dinner waits for no woman. I walked into the kitchen at 4 p.m. with no clear idea of what I was going to do with the three pounds of ground beef that were sitting in the refrigerator. I ended up with a skillet casserole comprised of beef, onion, garlic, frozen green beans, red wine, a little ketchup, plus sliced potatoes (cooked first in the microwave) on top that in turn had cheese on top of them. Then I shoved it under the broiler to melt and brown the cheese.

This was a popular dish. I don't know why I bother making anything other than casseroles. I don't think I've yet made one that everyone hasn't eaten.

Saturday

Short version: Pork chops, rice, fried onion, sauteed carrots and broccoli, carrot sticks with ranch dressing

Long version: Still sick of the kitchen, still no other option besides cooking. Seasoned pork chops and a sliced onion on the griddle pan (salt, pepper, garlic powder, paprika), rice with butter, sliced carrots and broccoli florets cooked in olive oil, and carrot sticks with leftover ranch dressing for the two boys that don't like cooked carrots. Thirty minutes and done.

Certainly nothing exciting, but there were no complaints and everyone was satisfactorily fed. That was pretty much all I was going for.

Break for random happy baby photo:

Less baby and more toddler by the day, though. 

Sunday

Short version: A.'s ponudo returns, plus leftover rice and frozen green beans

Long version: A. used the rest of his tripe and hominy to make another batch of his signature stew, this time with pigs' feet. He had put some pork chops in it, so I fished that out for the children. Cubby and Jack tried the pigs' feet, but in the end elected to go with the less-exotic pork chops.

I can't blame them. I wouldn't even try the pigs' feet. They made A. happy, though. And they certainly made a very gelatinous stock. I had to gouge out the leftovers with some force after it had been chilled.

Monday

Short version: Takeout green chile-hamburger soup and frijoles from Miss Amelia's Homestyle Restaurant

Long version: Miss Amelia called at noon to let me know she had just made a big pot of soup she wanted to share with us. She wanted to let me know early so I wouldn't start my own cooking.

As A. said, "There's a woman who's been where you are." Miss Amelia had five children and I'm pretty sure there were no restaurants around when she had them at home, either.

Anyway, A. went over later in the afternoon--bringing with him a loaf of sourdough bread, which Miss Amelia is luckily very fond of--and returned home with two quart jars of soup and a container of pinto beans. The children and I ate that, while A. had more of his ponudo.

Tuesday

Short version: Swiss steak, boiled potato chunks with butter, green salad

Long version: Browned cube steaks simmered with a sliced onion, a sliced bell pepper, garlic powder, and a can of tomatoes. Does that sound like Swiss steak? Sure. That's what we had, anyway.

Can you guess what A. had? Dingdingding! Yes! More ponudo! And then he had some beef and potatoes.

Wednesday

Short version: Barbecue beef, sourdough biscuits, green peas, baked sweet potato, roasted cauliflower

Long version: I made both an arm roast and some beef ribs by cooking them in a covered roaster for quite awhile at a low heat. Then I sliced the roast, and broiled the ribs to get them a little crispy, adding barbecue sauce on top of both.

I think A. said it best about this when I asked him how the ribs were, "They're okay. I mean, it's meat."

Yeah. Kind of underwhelming.

The biscuits were really good, though, as always.

Thursday

Short version: Tacos, ponudo, forgotten pinto beans, carrots

Long version: I made the taco meat out of the leftover arm roast and used the liquid from the roast in the beans. Which I then forgot to actually serve at dinnertime. I did all this in the morning because I was gone right before dinner delivering doughnuts with Cubby and Charlie. The elementary school students sold Krispy Kreme doughnuts to raise money for an end-of-year trip to a city.

Thankfully, this doughnut selling did not include the preschoolers. Although I bet this face could sell a lot of doughnuts.

Cubby and Charlie sold fourteen dozen between them, and the school as a whole sold an incredible quantity, considering how few people live around here. Everyone in the county is going to be eating doughnuts today. Given that someone had to drive 300 miles roundtrip to pick them up, I hope they all enjoy them.

Anyway. Cubby and Charlie were eating cupcakes to celebrate their hundredth day of school when I got there to pick them up, and Jack took advantage of my absence to beg peanut butter and jelly from his father (as always) so no one was particularly hungry for dinner. They ate, but only because I told them they could each have half a doughnut after dinner. Dessert bribery works every time.

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

I May Have a Problem

My clock inexplicably lost power sometime last night, and so when I woke up this morning I thought it was time to get up. Then I got in the bathroom and saw on my watch that it was 4:30 a.m., not 5:25 a.m.

You may recall that I try never to get up before 5 a.m., even if I'm awake. So I went back to bed for a bit. But then, of course, I was just lying there thinking of all the things I needed to do when I got up. For some reason this morning, it was the thought of making and packing school lunches for Cubby, Charlie, and Jack that seemed like a crushing burden.

"I don't waaaant to," said my inner four-year-old. "It's too haaaard."

And then I remembered: Hey! They could BUY LUNCH! Yes! This is the solution! I could be lazy this morning and send them to school with notes to their teachers that they would eat the cafeteria lunch just like literally EVERY OTHER child at their school. I checked the school lunch menu calendar (which, yes, I keep on my refrigerator even though they almost never buy lunch) and saw that it was even something they would probably all eat: chicken and dumplings.

So I sat down with my coffee with every intention of ignoring the lunch bags and all those little Tupperware containers and the ice packs and the bread knife and everything else that I use every school morning to pack lunches.

But then, Poppy and I (she gets up early, so it's mostly the two of us in the mornings) went into the kitchen about 6:20 a.m. to start breakfast and it's like my body moved all on its own and . . . made lunches. Peanut butter and honey sandwiches, cheese, and oranges. I sliced the bread. I put it all in the stupid Tupperware things. I even peeled the oranges. And the whole time, I was thinking, "WHY AM I DOING THIS? I was going to have them buy lunch!"

I guess I figured if I had to be in the kitchen anyway making breakfast, then it wasn't that much more effort to make the lunches too.

I don't know. I think I'm just crazy. Or maybe it's just that nothing seems as daunting at 6:20 a.m. as it does at 4:30 a.m. Probably that.

The Eminently Quotable Charlie

If you have ever had the pleasure of having a whip-smart kid (or two), you know that they are often very, very funny. Charlie has been my most consistently unintentionally funny child of late. He gave me a Valentine he made at school that said, "Mom, I love you when you . . . give me leftovers."

I just love a low bar.

The other day when Jack was arguing with me about something, Charlie told him to stop arguing with me because I know best. I felt compelled to point out that Charlie himself argues with me all the time. "Yeah," he replied, "But I am always right."

At the school pep rally, the elementary kids--all eight of them--were playing a game of Family Feud. When it was Charlie's turn, his opponent buzzed in first to answer the question, "What shape is a basketball?" "Circle!" she announced triumphantly. Everyone cheered, the person in charge prepared to move on . . . and Charlie grabbed her arm and had a quick conversation with her that resulted in her handing him the microphone and him announcing very firmly into the microphone, "A basketball is a sphere."

This photo is also funny, as the hot air blowing out of the furnace has given skinny Charlie a distinctly muscle-bound appearance.

And just so we don't leave out that other smart kid we have in residence . . .

The other morning when Cubby was making himself some eggs for breakfast, he informed A. that I discourage him from cooking (totally untrue, by the way). "Because," he went on, "Jack and Charlie like my cooking better and she's jealous."

Yup. Those smart kids sure are fun.

Friday Food: KAF Was My BFF This Week

That was a terrible title, but I do owe a debt of gratitude to King Arthur Flour and their excellent recipe site this week. I used three different recipes for things I've never made before, all three with KAF recipes, and all three worked perfectly. If you're not an experienced baker, you need a recipe source you can trust to get it right. King Arthur Flour is it.

Okay, end totally unpaid endorsement. On with the food!

Friday

Short version: Tacos, leftover pinto beans, cucumber

Long version: We went on an expedition to the faraway bigger town this day, so I knew I wouldn't have much energy left for cooking when we got home. Thus, I cooked extra onion the day before and thawed ground beef so I could make very fast tacos. Good thing, as I was not only exhausted, but also not feeling very well by the time we got home at 3 p.m. After getting all the groceries put away, I collapsed into bed to rest. At 4:30, I heard a conversation in the kitchen about my whereabouts and condition, culminating in Cubby asking, "Wait. Did she make dinner yet?"

Nice to know I was missed.

I got up, browned the meat, added the onions, the remainder of a can of tomatoes plus some salsa, microwaved some tortillas and cheese, heated up the beans, cut up cucumbers, and called it a dinner.

Saturday

Short version: Rabbit and pork in red wine, rice, frozen green beans

Long version: I was still not feeling particularly well, so I suggested to A. that maybe he could prepare the two rabbits he had caught in his snares the day before. He rose to the challenge with an Italian dish that called for cooking the rabbit pieces in a red wine sauce. The sauce involved an entire bottle of wine and fourteen cloves of garlic.

There's food to put hair on your chest.

He also put in some pork chops, just to make sure there was enough meat.

I made the rice and green beans in an attempt to create a balanced meal. A. doesn't worry about such trivialities.

This is what the children did during dinner preparations:

I just . . . I don't even know.

Sunday

Short version: Leftovers, grape tomatoes

Long version: Good thing I had planned on leftovers, as Rafael called at 3 p.m. to see if A. wanted to go to his ranch in the canyon and A. ended up taking all three boys and not returning until a little after  6 p.m. Everyone ate some combination of leftover tacos, rabbit, rice, and tomatoes.

Monday

Short version: Shrimp, mini Italian hamburgers, spaghetti with tomato sauce, cucumbers, green beans, chocolate cheesecake

Long version: Cubby's birthday meal should always include seafood. He LOVES seafood, but it's not something that's readily available in any quality near us. However, A. went to Santa Fe unexpectedly on Monday, so he picked up some Texas Gulf shrimp. I just boiled them and then added melted butter and garlic.

I made the mini hamburgers for the half of the family--me, Charlie, and Jack--that doesn't like shrimp. And I made hamburgers because I was too lazy to make meatballs. I seasoned them like meatballs, but no bread crumbs, and then just fried them as very small patties. Honestly, they were almost as good as meatballs and a hell of a lot easier.

I used the remainder of A.'s wine sauce in the tomato sauce. That was a good call.

Cubby requested a chocolate cheesecake this year. I'd never made one, so I used this recipe from King Arthur Flour, but I had to adjust it for my 8-inch springform pan.

A. was in the kitchen while I was making it, and when I told him I was reducing all the ingredients by 25%, he made a face and wished me luck. His faith in my math skills is sorely lacking.

I did all the math right (HA HA, A.) and it came out fine, but I was somewhat shocked to learn that I don't really love chocolate cheesecake. I love cheesecake, and I love chocolate, but not together. Something about the tang of the cream cheese just doesn't seem right with chocolate.

But of course, it wasn't about me, and Cubby did love his chocolate cheesecake. Even if it did crack so severely that my carefully placed "decoration" was sliding into the abyss.

Another birthday, another Ugly Cake. It's a tradition.

But hey! At least I managed to find the actual birthday candles this time! And everyone else liked it.

Git it, Poppy.

That's my girl.

Tuesday

Short version: Pork chops, hamburgers, fried onion, roasted sweet potatoes, Texas toast, green salad with ranch dressing

Long version: I spent much of the day making (and cursing) the sugar cookies I stupidly decided to make for Jack's class Valentine's Day party. I used the last of my cocoa powder to make the brownies for Cubby's school birthday treat on Monday, so I couldn't make brownies again. I've never made cut-out sugar cookies before, but it seemed a very traditional thing to do for Valentine's Day. 

I used this recipe--with this method in the food processor--and holy hassle. All that damn rolling and chilling and cutting and re-rolling and re-chilling and on and on and on is WHY I've never made them before. And then! They still had to be decorated! I used this recipe for cookie icing, which works very, very well. But still. What a pain.

Only twelve of the fifty or so I rolled, cut out, baked, and decorated. Boo.

I was not pleased to be faced with more food preparation at dinnertime. That's why I sprinkled seasoning on three random pork chops that needed to be cooked, plus a pound of meat shaped into hamburgers, and slapped both forms of meat on my grill pan. To that I added a sliced onion. When all of that was done, I put on pieces of buttered bread to fry until toasty.

I had made the ranch dressing the day before, thinking I would serve salad for Cubby's birthday dinner, but I ran out of motivation to wash and spin lettuce, so we had it this night instead.

Wednesday

Short version: Bacon, scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, steamed broccoli, frozen green beans

Long version: This was the day of Jack's class party. I had made so many sugar cookies that I decided to use those to go with the boys' valentines for their classmates. So for Jack's party treat, I made Rice Krispie Treats*.

Same cookie cutter, same colored sugar, WAY easier than those damn cookies.

Now I'm going to force you to admire the sum total of my labor of love (geddit?).

I made A. admire this too, because God knows, no one else will. They'll just eat it.

Anyway.

I peeled, cut up, and boiled the potatoes in the morning so that when I rushed in the door at 4:15 p.m. with four sugar-hyped children, all I had to do was fry the bacon, fry the potatoes in the bacon grease, scramble the eggs in more bacon grease, steam the broccoli, and microwave the green beans.

And also help Charlie cut out the letters for the poster to go on his last-minute mini-float while Jack tried to steal more of the candy he got at his class party and Poppy cried because I wouldn't let her have one of the cookies I was putting in sandwich bags for Charlie's and Cubby's classmates.

It was a little hectic. Or should I say spirited? Ha ha.

Thursday

Short version: Biscuits, Valentine's Day treats, concession stand food

Long version: Jack, Poppy, and I were due at Cubby and Charlie's class party at 2 p.m. I had said I would bring biscuits, in an attempt to provide something with slightly more substance than cupcakes and cookies, of which there were many. I decided to make cheddar biscuits, which I did by just making a double batch of the baking powder biscuit recipe I have memorized from my New Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook and adding garlic powder and lots of cheddar grated medium-fine. 

Incidentally, my mom gave me that cookbook when I moved into my first apartment, I do believe. Let's not talk about the fact that my "new" edition is from 1996 and is thus over twenty years old. Yikes.

Anyway.

I like that recipe (2 cups flour, 1 tablespoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/3 cup butter, 3/4 cup milk), but for cheese biscuits, I think one with more butter would have been better. I was going for a biscuit that could be eaten plain without feeling as if it needed more butter spread on it, but I thought they were a bit too dry for that. I brought some butter with me, but then someone else brought queso (melted cheese with jalapenos in it) for chips and I saw more than one person putting the queso on the biscuits, so it all worked out in the end.

I made almost three dozen biscuits and they were all eaten. There were only about fifteen people in attendance, so that means they were a hit.

I should've gotten a picture of them after baking instead of before, because they rose so high they were falling over. But it was a little nuts trying to pack these all up and get the two little ones out the door, so here they are before going in the oven. That heart-shaped cutter sure got a workout this week.

After the class party, we stayed for the homecoming pep rally--which is something to see with an entire student body of thirty kids--and then the basketball game at 5 p.m. A. met us at the school around 4:30 p.m. and everyone ate a hamburger from the concession stand for dinner. Except Jack. He got a hot dog, but didn't eat it. Too full of biscuits and cookies, I guess.

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

* If you followed all of this: Yes, I did indeed go from planning to make brownies for Jack's party, to making and planning to bring sugar cookies, to actually making and bringing Rice Krispie Treats. It's been that kind of week.