Practically Perfect Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies

I lived in France for sixteen months. Some would consider that country to be the food capital of the world, and I would probably agree--I ate some delicious things (especially pastries) during my time there. However, a few months after my arrival, I noticed a persistent craving that wouldn't go away, and that I could not satisfy.
Why? Because there was no peanut butter in France.
That was over twenty years ago. Things may have changed since then, but at the time, peanut butter was not to be found on the shelves of French grocery stores. I did happen upon some once, in an Asian import store, but besides being super expensive, it was a natural, no-salt, no-sugar, goo, with the taste and consistency of mud.
Another thing I craved was a good-ol' chocolate chip cookie. That was a craving I could almost satisfy with a fairly close approximation. Their brown sugar was strange, though, and chocolate chips weren't to be found, either. I made do with chunks of semi-sweet chocolate, which was delicious on its own, but, for some reason, didn't give the same result.
Perhaps that sixteen months of deprivation is the reason I devised this recipe. It satisfies both cravings at once, and is my all-time favorite cookie.

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies

Prep Time: 5 minutes
Cook Time: 10-12 minutes

1 cup margarine

1 cup peanut butter (creamy or crunchy)

1 cup sugar

1 cup brown sugar

2 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

2 1/4 cups flour

1 (12-ounce) package semisweet chocolate chips

---

Yield: 64 cookies

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cream together the margarine, peanut butter and sugars. Beat in eggs and vanilla until fluffy. Add dry ingredients. Mix until just combined, then add the chips and mix until chips are evenly distributed. Drop dough with a medium scoop onto an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 10-12 minutes, being careful not to over bake.

Note: butter could be substituted for the margarine, but the dough will spread more during baking and result in a crispy rather than a soft cookie.

Using a scoop make for a nicely formed, uniform batch of cookies

Still warm from the oven, peanuty, chocolate-melty yumminess

Grandma's Welsh Rarebit, Written Down at Last

When my Grandma migrated from England to the United States, she didn't bring many material possessions, but she did carry of wealth of stories, traditions and recipes in her head. Of her recipes, Welsh Rarebit was one of my favorites.
Exotic though it sounds, Welsh Rarebit is basically a cheese sauce, with, in Grandma's verison, the slightest hint of mustard. It can be served over toasted bread or English muffins or with a myriad of other possibilities.
The problem with Grandma's recipe was that it remained in her head. She wrote many of her other recipes down but not that one. When I was growing up and wanted to make it, usually on a summer afternoon for lunch, I'd run next door to Grandma's house.
"Grandma," I'd say, "how do you make Welsh Rarebit again?" She'd explain the procedure. "Wait," I'd say, "isn't there an egg in it?"
"You can add one if you'd like," she'd tell me.
That's the kind of recipe it was, a vague sort of this, this, and this. And possibly this. And that's the way I've always made it--until now.
Since I'm determined to pass a copy of my recipes onto posterity, I've written it down, some of its vagueness still intact.

Welsh Rarebit

Servings 5

Cook Time: 10 minutes

A recipe from Grandma Harris, to be served over brioche, toasted bread, English Muffins, or with eggs and ham, Eggs Benedict style. Also good as a pasta sauce.

1 1/2-2 tablespoons butter

1 1/2-2 tablespoons flour

1 1/2 cups milk

1/2 to 1 teaspoon mustard to taste

2 cups shredded cheese

1 egg, optional 1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste Pepper, to taste

---

In a saucepan, melt the butter, then add the flour. (One and a half tablespoon of each for a thinner sauce, two, for thicker). Cook and stir for one minute. Add the milk and stir with a whisk until the mixture begins to bubble and no lumps remain. The process can be sped up by heating the milk first in the microwave. Add the mustard and cheese. Cook and stir until the cheese melts. If using the egg (it enriches and thickens the sauce even more), crack it into a small bowl and beat it. Add a small amount of the hot sauce in with the egg to temper it, then pour the egg mixture back into the saucepan. Cook and stir over medium heat for two more minutes. Add salt and pepper, to taste.

It can be served like this: over a toasted English muffin.

Or you can stack a few things on top. Ham, for example.

 Followed by poached eggs. (Seen here in the tray from the egg poacher I got for Christmas. Love it!)

 And then the sauce on top. A cheesy version of Eggs Benedict. My family's favorite way.



This one's Tried and True: Creamy Beef and Bean Enchiladas

I made a goal to type up all the recipes in my file folder called "Recipes, Tried and True." It was a good goal,  I thought, especially since I'd bought a nifty cookbook software to type them into. So I started going through the file and discovered that the label was a lie. Many so-called tried and trues had not been tried at all. And others, though they'd been tested once, couldn't really be called "true." So I made another goal. Go through all the recipes in this folder and determine whether they belong, whether they deserve to be passed onto posterity. Because that's really the reason for this exercise. One day, my children (read daughters) will decide they like to cook and will want to make all those favorites from childhood. If, then, their mother is able to attain her goal, they will have a  beautiful cookbook in which to find them.
Here's a recipe from the folder. This one had been tried several times, but wasn't very true because the quantities and directions were imprecise. I couldn't type it into my cookbook software as it was written. So I made it for dinner, taking note of all the changes. It's been so heavily adapted it hardly resembles the original. It's tasty, though, creamy and spicy at once. Definitely belongs in the cookbook.

Creamy Beef and Bean Enchiladas

Servings 10

Prep Time: 10 minutes
Cook Time: 20-25

Heavily adapted from a recipe by Mama Maria's Tortillas

1 pound ground beef

1 tablespoon dried minced onion

1 (15-ounce) can beans, black or pinto, drained

3 ounces light cream cheese

1 (16-ounce) jar salsa, divided use

1 1/4 cups shredded cheese

10-12 wheat flour tortillas

3/4 cup light sour cream

Yield: 10-12 enchiladas

Brown ground beef with dried onion. Drain. Add beans, 1 cup of the salsa and the cream cheese. Heat and stir on medium until the mixture is hot and the cream cheese has melted. Add 3/4 cup shredded cheese. Mix well. Remove from heat. Spoon mixture into tortillas and roll up. Place in lightly greased, 9 X 13-inch casserole dish. Stir together remaining 1 cup of salsa and the sour cream. Spread over the top of the enchiladas. Sprinkle with remaining 1/2 cup shredded cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes or until hot and bubbly and cheese has melted. To serve, garnish with additional sour cream, salsa and/or chopped olives, if desired.

Movie Quote Rescues Christmas Present

I enjoy making things for Christmas. No, let me rephrase that. I enjoy having made things for Christmas. The actual making of them can get stressful. But I've always managed to finish my projects on time with a minimal amount of hair pulling. Until this year.
My husband and I had made our nieces a puppet theater and wanted some hand puppets to go along with it. A search of the internet wasn't promising. The people puppets were too expensive for how many I wanted--at least one for each of the three girls. And then I saw a pattern. Yes! I could make some.
So it was that three days before Christmas I still had puppets to make. I cleared my schedule for the day and began.
Of the six puppets on the pattern, I'd decided to do three--a king, a queen, and a knight. I'd bought some cool-looking shiny fabric for the crowns and the knight's armor. And therein came the first problem. Said shiny fabric was the most awful stuff I'd ever sewn with. It was tissue-thin and unraveled at a glance. When I turned the first puppet right side out, the fabric had slipped out of the seam, which made gaping holes in the arms and crown.  I had to turn the puppet back out and resew--again and again and again. After multiple attempts I still hadn't caught it all.
Three hours of work, still without success. I was ready to throw His Majesty out the window, where he would lay buried in the snow until Spring.
"I'm going to give up." I told my husband. "This is not worth it."
I fully expected Jeff to support me in my attempt to abandon ship. He's usually all for relieving stress in my life. Instead he said, "Never give up. Never surrender."
Really? I'm ready to impale myself on a seam ripper and you're quoting Galaxy Quest at me?
Well, it worked. I launched another attack and finally, the king was born. He wasn't perfect--his crown had shrunk by a third--but he was complete.
Puppet two, the queen, went a little more smoothly. I'd learned a few things. Puppet three was almost simple. I finished the knight and even created a shield for him, all with time to spare for an episode of  Studio C before bed.  

Here are the finished products. With their sweet, innocent smiles, you'd never know what devils they were to make. Apparently, the theater and puppets were the hit of Christmas morning. And to think, it was Galaxy Quest that saved the day.

Jumbleberry or Rhu-berry PIe

I've loved a mixed berry pie ever since a stop at Bumbleberry Inn near Zion National Park when I was young. Bumbleberry Pie theirs was appropriately called, and it was thick in the middle with a dark-purple jumble of berries and a tender, sugar-kissed crust. They served it warm with a dollop of ice cream all melty on the side. I knew then that I'd discovered heaven on a plate.
We made other trips to Zion when I was growing up, but only stopped for pie that once. You'd think when the mecca of deliciousness is just off the side of the road, my family would have veered that way every time. But I wasn't the driver.
It wasn't until an extended family trip a couple of years ago that we once again made the pilgrimage. The Inn was stark-looking, not quaint, like I'd envisioned it. And when the main course wasn't outstanding, I began to fear. Had my memory betrayed me? The Bumbleberry pie arrived and it looked, well, like pie. Served on a plate, not a cloud, no angels announced its arrival. And it wasn't even as pretty as my mom's pies. How could the taste not be disappointing after all those years of glorification in my head?
Well, it was good, but too seedy. I didn't remember it being seedy before. I suppose the whole point of using the name Bumbleberry is that they can use whatever berries are in season. Apparently, we stopped by in the seedy season.
I still had my memories, though. I knew what was possible. So I made my own attempt at a jumbled berry pie. Here's the recipe I came up with last fall, one we've enjoyed several times since. I made it again the other evening to celebrate a visit from my brother and sister-in-law and replaced a cup of berries with rhubarb. I called it Rhu-berry pie and it should have been served on a cloud.  

Jumbleberry or Rhu-berry Pie

Pastry for a two-crust pie

5 cups berries (Fresh or frozen, a mixture of any of the following: blueberry, strawberry, raspberry, marionberry, or others, just not too many seedy ones!)

1 to 1-1/4 cups sugar (the larger amount if using mostly tart berries or rhubarb)

1/4 (rounded) cup tapioca

1 Tbsp butter

1-2 Tbsp milk

coarse sugar, such as turbinado, for sprinkling

Mix the berries with the sugar and tapioca. Let sit for thirty minutes to allow the tapioca to soften.

Roll out the bottom crust and place in a pie pan. Pour in the berry mixture. Slice the butter into small pieces over the top of the berries. Roll out the top crust and slice into strips. Weave the strips to form a lattice crust. (Because berry pies are so juicy, you need lots of venting. If you choose not to use a lattice crust, cuts lots of decorative slits in the top crust) Crimp the edges. Brush top with milk and sprinkle with coarse sugar. Bake at 350 degrees for one hour  or until crust is golden and juice is bubbling. Let cool slightly. Best served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream all melty on the side.  

Variation: for Rhu-berry, replace one cup of the berries with one cup of diced rhubarb. Proceed as directed.



Aunt MIckey's Apple Butter, my version

I've been thinking about Apple Butter lately. I know, it's not the season. I should be thinking about strawberries and rhubarb, asparagus and all other Spring delights. But is there anything more delightful that a trip to the cold storage room, where there awaits a jar of Fall, all thick and spicy and ready to spread on some warm homemade bread? I don't think so.
I did it the other day, in fact--took a trip down to the basement for something else and came up with a jar of the stuff in my hand. "Yum!" my girls exclaimed, and for just a moment, I was whisked back to my own girl days.
On an all-too-seldom occasion my dad would come home from work bearing a jar of Aunt Mickey's apple butter. He might have been a wiseman bring gold, frankincense or myrrh. I savored every bite of that rich-brown sweetness spread on toast. But that rare delight was something Aunt Mickey made. Not anyone else. And it certainly wasn't found in a store.  Once or twice, feeling heretical, I tried apple butter in a restaurant, but it wasn't real. Not like Aunt Mickey's.
And then I grew up. I saw a chef on TV making apple butter and it didn't seem so hard. Hey, I thought, I can do that. So I did. And it was good. Really good. But Aunt Mickey's still loomed in my mind as the ultimate in apple butters.
Years went by and I ran into my cousin, Lori, Aunt Mickey's daughter. Timidly, afraid to find out that the holy grail of apple butters had been lost to the world, I asked her if, by chance, she had her mother's recipe. Yes, she told me. She did.  Hallelujah.
I made the recipe she gave me. And it was good. Really good. But I found there were things I missed from the other recipe I'd been using, the lemon peel and the nutmeg. I was aghast. Could it be that what I'd thought of as perfection could be improved?
Since then, I've continued to tweak, and believe it or not, I did reach perfection with one batch. That one was simmered in a crockpot, not on the stove, and was made with Granny Smith apples from my own tree--a perfect storm of deliciousness that might never be achieved again.
Here's the recipe. Take your own stab at perfection.

Apple Butter on warm homemade bread. Not much better than this.



Aunt Mickey's Apple Butter, Alison's version

16 cups thick apple pulp

1/2 cup apple cider vinegar 

8 cups sugar (half white, half brown, for me)

4 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp allspice

1 scant tsp cloves

1/2 tsp nutmeg

zest from one lemon

For apple pulp: core and quarter apples, but do not peel. Add only enough water to cook apples until soft. Press through fine sieve and measure. Combine all ingredients. Cook until mixture remains in a smooth mass when a little is cooled. This will require about 1-1/2 hours boiling. During cooking, stir frequently to prevent burning. Pour into pint jars or smaller. Process in a water bath canner, 5-15 minutes, depending on altitude.



Crockpot directions: Combine ingredients in a large, 6 or 7 quart crockpot. Cook on high 8-10 hours. Remove lid halfway through cooking time. Use same doneness test as for stove cooking. Process as directed.

Banana Peanut Butter Coffee Cake

One of those relaxed, semi-annual Sunday mornings. I wanted something a little special for breakfast, like a coffee cake, and I had over ripe bananas in my kitchen. My search online for Banana Coffee Cake showed some promising recipes, but most had nuts in or on them--something my nut hater would not be happy about. How about a peanut butter streussel instead? This is what I ended up with, and I have to say, it was . . . wow.
Recipe adapted from ones in allrecipes.com and Better Homes and Garden Cookbook.

Banana Peanut Butter Coffee Cake
1 8-oz package cream cheese
1/2 cup butter or margarine, softened
1-1/4 cups sugar
2 eggs
3 medium bananas, mashed
1 tsp vanilla extract
2-1/4 cups whole wheat flour
1-1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
TOPPING:
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup flour
1/4 cup peanut butter
3 Tbsp butter or margarine, softened

Beat together the cream cheese, butter and sugar. Add the bananas, eggs and vanilla; beat until smooth. Combine dry ingredients; add to batter and mix. Smooth into a greased 13 x 9-inch pan. Sprinkle with topping. Bake at 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.
For topping, stir together brown sugar and flour. Using a pastry blender or two knives, cut in butter and peanut butter until uniform.