Okay, so Liam rocked his first steps (ones I count, at least, and I'm a tough critic) back on 16JUN. I was able to catch him on video the next day. Can you tell he's excited?
26 June 2011
16 June 2011
Vielen Dank, Catherine Barton
It all began with a baking sheet. My dear friend Emily was having a virtual Pampered Chef party, and I took the opportunity to spoil myself with this lovely little metal dreamboat. I vowed that I would search tirelessly for ways to use this sheet and make it worth every penny -- and with a son like Liam, who is willing to try anything Mommy makes for him, I knew this vow would be an easy one to honor.
On a recent adventure visiting our PA family, we discovered that Liam has a bit of a thing for Fig Newtons. Being the Suzy-Homemaker-On-Crack kind of mom that I am, I knew I could concoct a version for him at home. After all, I've already figured out how to make Thin Mints (those sneaky little Girl Scouts can stop robbing me, thank you very much), so what's so scary about a fruit-filled little cereal pocket? I did some snooping on the Internet and through some old cookbooks for inspiration, and being my mother's daughter, barely followed any of the recipes I came across (but thankfully wrote down what I did).
So the first time I made these damn things, I swore more nasty oaths than Zeke has ever heard me say in one evening, and I think at one point he said he was fearing for our lives. It's a frightening moment for any man when he sees his wife cursing bakery items (typically a woman's best friend, right?). I cried tearless fits of frustration as I tossed sticky wads of fruit-laced dough into the trash can and felt that horrible desperation in the pit of my stomach... you know, that one you feel when you think you might actually fail at something you thought would be as simple as an ink blot test. This baking event was not looking good at all.
And then it happened. Seven hours after I ventured into Fruit Barton territory, something clicked. My hands and brain started working in concert, and I was able to create these beautiful, delicious, hearty, burst-in-your-mouth explosions of wonderful yumminess. Folks, if you want to try these at home, I strongly urge you to read through the MOP carefully and completely before diving into these waters. It helps to visualize the entire process before starting anything this crazy.
Five batches later, I feel like I could make Fruit Bartons in my sleep. Liam LOVES them, and they're a nutrition-packed handheld snack for all ages. And if you use a good baking sheet like my Pampered Chef number, you're guaranteed they'll bake evenly and turn out gorgeous every time.
Oh, I bet you're wondering how my version of Fig Newtons became Fruit Bartons. First off, I don't use figs. But I have used different combinations of prunes, strawberries, raspberries, mangoes, and blueberries in my trials; ergo, "Fruit." As for the "Barton" part -- well, I can't in good conscience call these "Newtons" since I'm making them myself and I figured Sir Isaac Newton might take insult if I just cast his name about like that. They don't taste quite like the packaged morsels; they're more like a close relative of the Newton. Turns out Sir Isaac Newton's closest relative was his half-niece Catherine Barton, a young woman whom he adored and cherished. From what I've learned of her, she seems a worthy namesake for my little baked goodies. And, between you and me, I think mine are prettier and much more exotic, as I think we would agree Miss Barton was in comparison to her half-uncle Sir Newton.
**Aside: While I assumed Newtons were named for Sir Isaac Newton, they were supposedly named for the town in which their creator resided -- Newton, Massachusetts. Neither is the city named for Sir Newton; it was originally named Cambridge, incorporated as Cambridge Village, then renamed Newtown and finally Newton in the late 1700s. Interestingly, Sir Issac Newton received his education in Cambridge, England, so maybe it all comes full-circle anyway...
FRUIT BARTON RECIPE:
Ingredients:
Dough
1 c whole wheat flour
1/2 c wheat germ
1 1/2 c AP unbleached flour
1/2 c dark brown sugar
1/2 t kosher salt
3/4 t baking powder
3/8 t baking soda
1/2 t cinnamon
12 T cold margarine (or 1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, softened and cut into pieces, if you're one of those baking purists... but trust me, the margarine works like a charm)
4 eggs, divided
Filling
2 c fresh, frozen, or dried fruit (figs, prunes, strawberries, blueberries, mangoes, peaches, apples, what have you)
1 c acidic juice (orange or an orange blend)
1/2 c apple juice
1/2 c prune juice
1/2 t cinnamon
1/2 T apple cider vinegar
MOP:
Dough
1. Combine and sift the dry ingredients in a mixing bowl.
2. Cut in margarine/butter pieces until the dough looks sandy.
3. Whisk 3 eggs together and add to the dough; mix to combine.
4. Form dough into a ball, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 2 hours.
Filling
1. Combine all filling ingredients in saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until liquid is absorbed by the fruit and the mixture is thick (will take at least 2 hours).
2. Let filling cool slightly, then puree in food processor until smooth.
3. Refrigerate until ready to assemble Bartons.
Barton Assembly
1. Preheat oven to 375F. Get out your rolling pin.
2. Make an egg wash (whisk remaining egg with 2 t of water) and keep handy.
3. Flour countertop or other smooth surface for rolling out the dough (be serious about this whole flouring process -- a "light dusting" is completely ineffective).
4. Cut a piece of plastic wrap about 12" wide and set aside.
5. Take fruit filling and dough out of fridge; unwrap dough and cut off a hunk (maybe 1/2" wide).
6. Roll up little dough hunk into a ball and place on floured surface; lay your reserved piece of plastic wrap gently over the ball.
*7. Roll dough out to 1/8" thickness and approx. 4" wide using rolling pin -- TIP: apply gentle pressure, use smooth strokes, keep the plastic wrap smooth between the dough and your pin, and say silent prayers to the dough angels.
8. Spoon filling down the length of the dough -- just right of center -- avoiding the top and bottom 1/2" of dough.
9. Paint around the edges of the dough with the egg wash; fold dough over (be careful not to squish out the fruit filling) and press to seal. If you're ballsy enough, trim the edges with a knife to make a nice, clean look (just don't cut too far in or your filling will spew forth like The Blob).
10. Place Barton "tube" on greased (or parchment-lined) cookie sheet. Press down on tube very gently to flatten it a tad.
11. Repeat with remaining dough and filling, making sure to keep surface floured.
12. Pop cookie sheet into oven and bake tubes until light golden brown -- about 15 minutes.
13. Let cool completely, then cut with a sharp knife into 1" Bartons. Try not to eat them all at once.
On a recent adventure visiting our PA family, we discovered that Liam has a bit of a thing for Fig Newtons. Being the Suzy-Homemaker-On-Crack kind of mom that I am, I knew I could concoct a version for him at home. After all, I've already figured out how to make Thin Mints (those sneaky little Girl Scouts can stop robbing me, thank you very much), so what's so scary about a fruit-filled little cereal pocket? I did some snooping on the Internet and through some old cookbooks for inspiration, and being my mother's daughter, barely followed any of the recipes I came across (but thankfully wrote down what I did).
So the first time I made these damn things, I swore more nasty oaths than Zeke has ever heard me say in one evening, and I think at one point he said he was fearing for our lives. It's a frightening moment for any man when he sees his wife cursing bakery items (typically a woman's best friend, right?). I cried tearless fits of frustration as I tossed sticky wads of fruit-laced dough into the trash can and felt that horrible desperation in the pit of my stomach... you know, that one you feel when you think you might actually fail at something you thought would be as simple as an ink blot test. This baking event was not looking good at all.
And then it happened. Seven hours after I ventured into Fruit Barton territory, something clicked. My hands and brain started working in concert, and I was able to create these beautiful, delicious, hearty, burst-in-your-mouth explosions of wonderful yumminess. Folks, if you want to try these at home, I strongly urge you to read through the MOP carefully and completely before diving into these waters. It helps to visualize the entire process before starting anything this crazy.
Five batches later, I feel like I could make Fruit Bartons in my sleep. Liam LOVES them, and they're a nutrition-packed handheld snack for all ages. And if you use a good baking sheet like my Pampered Chef number, you're guaranteed they'll bake evenly and turn out gorgeous every time.
Oh, I bet you're wondering how my version of Fig Newtons became Fruit Bartons. First off, I don't use figs. But I have used different combinations of prunes, strawberries, raspberries, mangoes, and blueberries in my trials; ergo, "Fruit." As for the "Barton" part -- well, I can't in good conscience call these "Newtons" since I'm making them myself and I figured Sir Isaac Newton might take insult if I just cast his name about like that. They don't taste quite like the packaged morsels; they're more like a close relative of the Newton. Turns out Sir Isaac Newton's closest relative was his half-niece Catherine Barton, a young woman whom he adored and cherished. From what I've learned of her, she seems a worthy namesake for my little baked goodies. And, between you and me, I think mine are prettier and much more exotic, as I think we would agree Miss Barton was in comparison to her half-uncle Sir Newton.
 |
| Many thanks, Catherine Barton. Or as I'll be saying in Germany, Vielen Dank! |
FRUIT BARTON RECIPE:
Ingredients:
Dough
1 c whole wheat flour
1/2 c wheat germ
1 1/2 c AP unbleached flour
1/2 c dark brown sugar
1/2 t kosher salt
3/4 t baking powder
3/8 t baking soda
1/2 t cinnamon
12 T cold margarine (or 1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, softened and cut into pieces, if you're one of those baking purists... but trust me, the margarine works like a charm)
4 eggs, divided
Filling
2 c fresh, frozen, or dried fruit (figs, prunes, strawberries, blueberries, mangoes, peaches, apples, what have you)
1 c acidic juice (orange or an orange blend)
1/2 c apple juice
1/2 c prune juice
1/2 t cinnamon
1/2 T apple cider vinegar
MOP:
Dough
1. Combine and sift the dry ingredients in a mixing bowl.
2. Cut in margarine/butter pieces until the dough looks sandy.
3. Whisk 3 eggs together and add to the dough; mix to combine.
4. Form dough into a ball, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 2 hours.
Filling
1. Combine all filling ingredients in saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until liquid is absorbed by the fruit and the mixture is thick (will take at least 2 hours).
2. Let filling cool slightly, then puree in food processor until smooth.
3. Refrigerate until ready to assemble Bartons.
Barton Assembly
1. Preheat oven to 375F. Get out your rolling pin.
2. Make an egg wash (whisk remaining egg with 2 t of water) and keep handy.
3. Flour countertop or other smooth surface for rolling out the dough (be serious about this whole flouring process -- a "light dusting" is completely ineffective).
4. Cut a piece of plastic wrap about 12" wide and set aside.
5. Take fruit filling and dough out of fridge; unwrap dough and cut off a hunk (maybe 1/2" wide).
6. Roll up little dough hunk into a ball and place on floured surface; lay your reserved piece of plastic wrap gently over the ball.
*7. Roll dough out to 1/8" thickness and approx. 4" wide using rolling pin -- TIP: apply gentle pressure, use smooth strokes, keep the plastic wrap smooth between the dough and your pin, and say silent prayers to the dough angels.
8. Spoon filling down the length of the dough -- just right of center -- avoiding the top and bottom 1/2" of dough.
9. Paint around the edges of the dough with the egg wash; fold dough over (be careful not to squish out the fruit filling) and press to seal. If you're ballsy enough, trim the edges with a knife to make a nice, clean look (just don't cut too far in or your filling will spew forth like The Blob).
10. Place Barton "tube" on greased (or parchment-lined) cookie sheet. Press down on tube very gently to flatten it a tad.
11. Repeat with remaining dough and filling, making sure to keep surface floured.
12. Pop cookie sheet into oven and bake tubes until light golden brown -- about 15 minutes.
13. Let cool completely, then cut with a sharp knife into 1" Bartons. Try not to eat them all at once.
10 June 2011
Krazy for Kras
Available via iTunes, Amazon, Kras’ personal website -- www.krasmusic.com, and also on those AMI jukeboxes you find in bars and clubs.
It has been a lot more difficult for me to write this review than I originally expected. I think it's because I love this album – In The Shadows, courtesy of Kras. When you love something, it can be challenging to put your feelings into words. As my old pal Andy Bader would say, every word you choose seems to be a bit of a misnomer (I had to look that word up when he used it with me; it means inappropriate, but “misnomer” has such a smoother ring to it. Nice work, Andy.)
So let’s just dive right in to this thing together. Kras’ music is perfect for lazy siesta-style afternoons, pensive road trips, downtime in the bathtub, prep music for an exciting date, or just lounging by the pool. The sound of it is consistent and fluid enough to support you when you need your brain to be otherwise occupied, but if you want to be affected and challenged, listen to the lyrics, as Kras uses fantastic phrasing and narratives in his songs. I would call him a modern-day bard: He tells stories with his songs and is focused on taking you on a journey that you can relate to, without trying to bombard you with exhaustive metaphors. The music has hints of a Spanish Santana-style, with a blending of jazz and country that awakens the senses in a real and lasting way.
Kras keeps in line with High Fidelity’s description of a perfect compilation: “You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention. Then you got to take it up a notch, but you don’t wanna blow your [umm, we’ll say “nose” here, this is a kid-friendly blog], so then you got to cool it off a notch. There are a lot of rules.” Kras follows the rules as though he wrote them himself.
The album opens with “Nothing More,” displaying chilling chords that seem to trail along the guitar like tears. The lyrics are literal and relatable, allowing you to visualize Kras’ need to leave, his desire for silence, his yearning for a peaceful escape: “Walked down the hallway with my shoes stuffed in my suitcase / Feel the floor against my feet.” As the song progresses, Kras elevates you from the literal to the figurative, drawing a more intimate connection when he compares the relationship, the broken love, as an “illness.”
Kras pays tribute to Aztec Two-Step with “Killing Me” and “The Infidel,” two hits originally written and performed by the band he considers one of his primary influences. There is a strong Eagles feel to each of these songs; moreover, with the complicated and unexpected chords changes, you can appreciate not only the influence this band has on Kras’ style and musical choices but also that Kras really has his own unique brand on music today. He can honor his influences but he doesn’t imitate them in his work – very pure and, for lack of a better descriptor, innocent in his sound and musical expression.
Kras writes for his daughter, dedicates another track to his father and son, and manages to give listeners the story of his life, set to fantastic music. In the song “Time,” Kras integrates more beautiful guitar solos and soft, consistent percussion that helps solidify the heartbeat of the album. The album actually reminds me of Madonna’s Confessions on the Dance Floor, Madonna’s club work that wove songs into one another to the point where the next track begins amidst the ending of the previous track. While Kras certainly isn’t providing grungy grind music to blast out of mega-speakers at a Rave, he carefully weaves his tracks into one another to gently carry you through the stories. Little disruption occurs, and the music floats through and within until it seems like the tracks are playing within you.
Displaying his sense of humor, Kras draws a parallel between Scrooge’s mentor Fezziwig and President Obama in the song “Old Fezziwig,” a lighthearted melody with powerful lyrics. Kras also exudes his humor in “Scimitar,” though you wouldn’t realize it just by listening to this dark and moody number. The story behind this song is fabulous – Kras’ friend David Nerz challenged Kras to write a song using the word “scimitar,” a word Nerz figured Kras wouldn’t be able to rhyme, let alone write anything worth repeating. Kras’ response is lyrical genius. This story reminds me of the background to Dr. Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham, a book we all know and love – that story came about simply because Dr. Seuss’ friend challenged him to write a story using no more than 50 words. Like I said, genius.
What is apparent in Kras’ lyrics is that his life has been improved and at times misdirected by love, as is true for many of us. He creates a milestone love song with “My Mirage,” in which he tells the story of the one true, young love. While he writes about and to her, Kras simultaneously seems to look back and look ahead, from a midpoint in his own life, wondering what the future will hold as he ponders the fear of losing what is known.
Kras closes most appropriately with “Gratitude,” in which he reflects on the love of friendship in his life. The lyrics bring to mind the Irish Blessing, as he writes, “So Godspeed your days, with sunshine and glory / I never could have completed my story without you.”
In short, I love love love the album. This “new kountry” style is uniquely Kras but hopefully the beginning of a beautiful genre for others to emulate.
GO BUY THIS ALBUM!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)