Have you ever found yourself not paying attention to a food trend or other popular cooking craze because something about it just reminded you of something else that you’d just as soon pretend didn’t exist? That’s how it was with me and every single macaroon post I’ve seen in the last six months.

When I just hear the word macaroon, I can feel my tongue trying to oust tough, chewy bits of shredded coconut from my teeth as an intense sugar high begins coursing through my veins. I’ve never liked macaroons. I’ve never liked shredded coconut. Maybe I’ve never liked shredded coconut because of macaroons. That seems possible because I recently began adding unsweetened coconut flakes to my oatmeal. Go figure.

Here’s the thing. All the macaroon posts I’ve seen lately show pictures of pretty pastel colored hamburger-like sandwich cookies. I’ve routinely rejected reading these posts because I automatically think: over-the-top-sugary-coconut-ick. I also find the color of these mini confections to be off-putting in the same way that pink, green and yellow marshmallow Easter treats shaped like bunnies, eggs and chicks inspire a gag reflex.

But once NPR got on board with the macaroon, I felt a higher responsibility to all my fans (hi, Mom and Dad), to pause for a wee sec and acknowledge that these little pink and yellow hamburgers cookies are a different variety of macaroon all together. Because they are. Really.

First, I was surprised to learn macaroons are an almond meringue cookie hailing from France (although they most likely traveled to France by way of Italian monks). Almonds! Meringue!

Second, I did not know that cooking macaroons inspired deep trepidation in many a baker. As I quickly learned while reading David Lebovitz’s online macaroon thesis, the baking of macaroons is not a walk in the park.

Third, as with all things French, there are as many opinions about the proper way to make macaroons as there are comments on a Pioneer Woman blog post.

Hmm. What could a girl do but test her kitchen mettle and commit to making a batch of macaroons? I mean, I owe it to the French, really, to admit my naivety and honor a dessert tradition that has been embraced by Starbucks and every other fancy food baker in the country. After reviewing many a macaroon recipe, I chose to follow the one Mr. Lebovitz shared for French Chocolate Macaroons because of its relative simplicity (and because his macaroons weren’t pink). Still, I had to trek down to Michaels to buy a piping bag and tip and then pop next door to Vitamin Cottage where happily I found almond meal. The next morning, I woke early and got to work.

As indicated above, points of contention abound when it comes to how one makes macaroons, starting with whether or not you should keep your egg whites at room temperature or in the refrigerator, for one, two, or three days prior to the big day. I left my eggs out on the counter for almost 24 hours. I took a departure from all recipe instructions by using a hand-held rotary beater for beating my eggs into stiff peaks. This instrument has become my favorite tool for working with eggs. Using the beater is fast and strangely satisfying.

Other technique arguments involve how long you should mix the meringue with the almond meal and whether or not (and for how long) you should leave the piped macaroon batter out to dry before baking. The point of all this fuss is that you want to produce the right conditions for the development of the little rim that appears at the base of the macaroon as its baking. This rim, otherwise known as “the feet,” makes or breaks your macaroon. The other concern is that you don’t want your macaroons to crackle on top. They must be smooth. Appearance is everything, right?

I thank the stars above that with little effort and no fuss, I made a batch of macaroons that came out nearly perfectly. Actually, the 30 small rounds that I piped onto a double-layer baking sheet came out perfectly. The 14 or so rounds that I piped onto my thin pizza pan however, came out with no feet and cracked tops. I attribute this in part to the pan, but more to the fact that after I piped the rounds, I piped more batter on top of the original round because I had run out of space and figured I could just make them bigger. Wrong.

I made Mr. Lebovitz’s chocolate ganache filling (and added pure vanilla extract), sandwiched the macaroon cookies together and then waited the suggested one day before sampling (OK – I ate a few of the cracked cookies once they had cooled – they were crispy and sweet). Nothing like a burst of chocolate almond sugary goodness (that doesn’t stick in your teeth). I impressed myself and then wondered, would I make these again? Once I found these beautiful photos of other macaroons made without food coloring, I got kind of wistful just thinking about re-creating them. Only time will tell.

Always wanted to make macaroons but never found the gumption? Go for it! Then, tell me about it here.

Enjoy!

Carol

Thanks to Ricoeurian for the pastel colored macaroon photo.

Although single and without kids, I have an affinity for small children. I can relate to their needs (I require play time, too), I can usually act more goofy than they can (I have scared the occasional child with my zeal for dancing), and I have a fantastic repertoire of silly voices. So it should come as no surprise that given the choice to exercise myself to extreme pain at the gym last Saturday morning or bake cookies with my friends’ two daughters – Chloe, 7, and Becca, 5 – I opted for the latter.

I love baking cookies with kids, especially kids that are not my own, and especially in advance of a holiday – like Valentine’s Day. Their eyes sparkle with the anticipation of sneaking a taste of batter and decorating cookie tops with insane amounts of colored sugar.

I also find that kids love working with holiday-specific cookie cutters. This time of year they have no qualms about dipping into the Christmas cookie cutter collection because there are only so many heart-shaped cookies you can make. And, bless their little munchkin souls, they even forgive you when you realize you can’t make frosting because you forgot to buy powdered sugar. You simply agree to let them have not one but two cookies before lunch (in addition to the giant one you let them set aside for dessert after lunch) and everyone is happy again.

Like most children finding themselves in the kitchen with a grown-up, Chloe and Becca were eager to help prepare the batter for the cookies we set out to make. The recipe: Rodelle’s Rolled Sugar Cookies. In a stroke of brilliance, I let Chloe measure out the flour and sift it into a small bowl while Becca and I set out to cream butter, sugar, egg and vanilla. Each kid needed her own sense of empowerment and this strategy worked like a charm. Of course, I had to let Chloe take a turn with the hand mixer while Becca tried out the sifter. Then, they each took a turn with the hand mixer as we added flour to the wet ingredients. Becca let me know at least four times during this process how much she likes cookie batter. I mean, she really likes it. Can I blame her?

Once we put the dough into the fridge for a brief cooling period, the girls came somewhat unglued with the prospect of checking out my stuff, running around the house dressed in my scarves, and parking themselves on the bathroom counter as they painted their small faces scary pink with my ‘make-up stick’. I did what any smart adult would do: the dishes.

After this interlude of fashion and frolic came to its sad but eventual end, we got to work rolling out dough and cutting cookies. I was clever a second time to avoid possible sibling disquietude by cutting a line down the rolled dough to designate their private dough property. Of course, I then learned again how much Becca loves cookie dough (by now she had managed to casually sneak about a pint of dough into her wee mouth). I also learned what Chloe and Becca love most about Valentine’s Day: the color pink. Not love. Not chocolate. Not even cookies. Pink.

As their little hands plied dough away from the heart-shaped cutters and we talked about how much we loved dough and couldn’t wait to eat a fresh out-of-the-oven cookie, I knew with certainty that Valentine’s Day was just a lovely excuse to spend a morning in the kitchen with little girls who would one day discover their own joy for baking with friends.

I hope your own adventures in baking include small children and their valentine, as well as a great story. Just wondering – how much cookie dough can your kids eat?

Dreaming of cookies,

Carol

For two years I’ve been adamant about learning how to make the perfect pie crust. A savory girl, I like to make pie dough more for quiche than pie (although this Thanksgiving I discovered chocolate pecan pie). Still, my crusts aren’t elegant in form and they’re not exactly ‘flaky’. My dough typically rolls out OK, but it seems kind of stiff. I’ve experimented with things like vegan butter (oxymoron, I know) and organic vegetable shortening. Let’s just say, it’s been a process.

If you’ve ever embarked on a similar journey, you’re familiar with the range of certainty and opinion the baking world holds for how to combine flour, fat and water to create the perfect crust. The pie world has three main camps: those that use shortening; those that use butter; and, those that use both. After trial and error, this decision is now easy for me. I want something that comes from a cow, not a can; and though something called leaf lard sounds interesting, I can’t readily source it.

The issue is which ingredient creates a flakier crust. I believe the quality of flaky (insert your favorite self-deprecating joke here) is in the making of the dough. Some swear by food processors and others keep it real with a pastry cutter (blender). I didn’t have an opinion on this technical point, so I set out this week to see which dough turns out better – one made with electricity, or one made with muscle. Up until now I’ve been favoring muscle with both a pastry cutter and a knife, which Chez Pim makes look ridiculously easy (but it’s not).

I also thought I’d round out the experiment by trying two different butter techniques: cubing refrigerated butter v. grating frozen butter. I had done neither – just sliced it up into big squares. Lastly, I also found this crust that calls for almond flour (wouldn’t you know, I bought some to use and then proceeded to forget I bought it) and this gluten-free crust that sounds amazing except I’d need to take a second mortgage out on my home to afford the five different kinds of flour it requires (I willed Will Ferrell showing up with ‘flours’ like he did in Stranger Than Fiction, but no dice). So here’s what I did….

Pie Dough 1 – Cubed butter, pastry cutter (blender)
I love this method, which I learned from Smitten Kitchen. Of all the online dissertations I found for making the perfect crust, Deb’s Pie Crust 102 shed important and somewhat life changing light on What Could Be. Cubing is a snap with my pastry knife and the pastry cutter makes everything come together quickly. Clean up is easy. I refrigerated the crust for 90 minutes, rolled it out (following these directions), and ended up with a lovely looking pie shell that I put back in the fridge a few more hours. Keeping the dough, especially the butter, chilled is perhaps the most important element in making a flaky crust.

Pie Dough 2 – Grated butter, food processor
I do not love this method. Grating the butter by hand added an element of heat that concerned me, and all those butter shavings were a mess (by the way, even though grated butter looks like a creamy Parmesan cheese, sadly, it still tastes like butter). After combining the flour and butter in the food processor, pulsing it briefly and drizzling in ice cold water, I still had to remove the dough and mix it by hand in a bowl. The dough was easier to work with at this point because the butter had warmed up, but overall, this method took me longer than the pastry cutter. Back in the fridge for more chilling.

And then…

I made a pie! I adapted this Scandinavian Sour Cream Apple Pie recipe by using real Rodelle vanilla bean, not quite a full cup of sour cream, and placing Pie Dough 2 on top, instead of the streusel-like topping the recipe calls for. I have never understood how to make a crust look good until I read about tucking the excess dough under. Duh. That, and cubing butter, were hands down the greatest take-aways from my experiment.

But was it flaky?

You know, this just wasn’t my goal. I believe in butter, I believe in the hand-mixing technique, I believe in keeping the dough cold. I just believed that flaky would be the natural outcome of my dough. I had friends over last night to taste my pie and when my girlfriend asked, “How do you get your crust so flaky?” I just smiled. Ever been there? Do tell. I’d love to know your obsession with making the perfect pie crust.

Mixing it up with glee,

Carol

This week I discovered a new appreciation for an old food tradition. I set out looking for a cooking or kitchen technique that focused on simplicity – you know, something inspired and amazing that might simplify your life in one easy step – and then Katie (of Rogue Rice fame) recommended fondue. I balked at the idea for many reasons.

1. I don’t have a fondue set.
2. Fondue sets have lots of parts and pieces.
3. It requires a gathering of people – who wants to eat fondue alone?
4. It seems anything but simple.

Nevertheless, within minutes I found myself doing a search for ‘fondue’ on Craigslist and in the time it takes to say “Emmental cheese”, I had located a brand new, still in the box, fondue kit for ten dollars. In less than one hour, I became the proud owner of a fondue set.

Now that reason number one no longer held any weight, I informed Katie she was required to partake in a great fondue experiment the following night. We wrangled a couple more friends, she murmured something about chocolate liqueur and tiramisu, and suddenly we had enough people to make a proper fondue party. Reason number three: dashed.

But, what to prepare? It seemed blasphemous to not pay homage to fondue’s Swiss lineage, so cheese had to be included. I was intent on finding a vanilla recipe and Katie was intent on chocolate. In short order, we nailed down the perfect fondue trifecta. Thankfully, the Internet is awash with sites dedicated to fondue recipes like this one or this one or this one.

The day of the big event I braved extreme cold, falling snow (during rush hour, of course), and five stores to acquire my list of ingredients: pears, apples, corn starch, gruyere and emmental cheese (to save a few $$ I bought a bag of pre-shredded fondue cheese that most fondue experts agree you should avoid), chocolate chips, dry white wine, bread, lady fingers, oranges, mascarpone, whipping cream and sterno (hint: not readily available at grocery stores. I got mine at Kmart). This was definitely no simple affair (see reason 4 above).

That is, until the preparations began. With friends on hand – I didn’t have to slice a single piece of fruit or bread (thanks Lera) – the fondue making was a snap. I just stood at my stove, rubbed garlic into a pan, added wine and cheese and stirred. Katie and Danny figured out the sterno lighting. Then, we gorged the dip with rustic whole wheat bread and red wine and debated fondue etiquette.

Next, the vanilla fondue. I modified Ilana Simon’s vanilla recipe – a ridiculously simple combination of water, sugar, cornstarch, butter, salt and vanilla – to include Rodelle Bourbon vanilla bean instead of extract. I paired the vanilla dip with honey crisp apples and Bosc, Bartlett and Anjou pears because my Flavor Bible recommended I do so. Have you ever tasted something so surprisingly good that you thought that if you died in that moment, your life would’ve been incomplete because you didn’t get to taste it again; nay, you didn’t get to rub your ENTIRE body in the concoction and lick yourself silly for the rest of eternity? That’s pretty much what I experienced every time I dipped a fruity morsel into the vanilla fondue. The vanilla bean was a knock out substitution that almost made me cry for joy.

We finished the night by creating our own chocolate fondue recipe adapted from a chocolate tiramisu recipe by Giada De Laurentiis. We melted chocolate chips, added mascarpone and cream, a handful of sugar and flavored the blend with a splashes of Starbucks Coffee Liqueur. We devoured the concoction with lady fingers, clementines, the remaining apple and pear bites and more red wine.

Remember reason number 2 about parts and pieces?? Dead simple. We used two pots, three wooden spoons, one measuring cup, four plates, four wine glasses, four skewers, sterno and a match. Preparations and clean-up were a snap. While the ingredients were slightly costly, the pleasure in preparing and enjoying food with friends more than balanced out the hit to my wallet. And the vanilla fondue? Oh my. That’s a keeper.

So here’s your mission for this month — Fondue. Go on. Do it. Get over the cliched 70s image.  Is that fondue set you got for your wedding still sitting unused in its original box in the closet? Dust it off, get it out, love it and then tell me all about it.

In search of simple pleasures,

Carol

As most of you readers have probably gathered, I love the traditional flavors that permeate the holiday season: vanilla, chocolate, apple, cinnamon, pumpkin…. Yum!  The form that these flavors are presented to the eater, though, is up for negotiation!  I love recipes that twist standard (read: boring) recipes into something new and exciting.  Just last week, I experimented with two different recipes of this type.  One of these recipes was a delicious success; the other was an epic failure.  Epic failures are more fun informative, so let’s start with that one first!

While perusing food blogs, I ran into a recipe for red velvet cake balls; actually, I ran into the recipe twice.  I figured that finding the same recipe twice in a matter of minutes was a sign from the kitchen deities that I should make these amazing looking little treats.  Since I was going to be traveling to my parents’ place to meet the whole family for Thanksgiving, I had a great excuse to give these a try!  So now I had a recipe and a purpose and it was time to implement!

The first part of it went as planned.  Once I had mixed the crumbled red velvet cake and the cream cheese frosting together, it was time to ball them and dip them in the chocolate.  This part did not go as planned, unfortunately. The next step was to melt the chocolate and I decided that doing this in the microwave was the easy way to go.  A pitted Tupperware and several burnt chocolate bars later, I learned the valuable lesson that the chocolate may actually be melted, but it will still retain its shape until you stir it.  Oops. Strike One.

A quick run to the grocery store to grab some more chocolate and I was back in business!  Now that I was able to melt the chocolate without burning a hole in the container, the next step was to drop small round balls (created by using my handy mini ice cream scoop!) into the chocolate, roll them around and then lay them onto waxed paper.  I ran into another problem here.  Candy chocolate is great, until any moisture gets in it.  Once moisture DOES get in, the consistency of the melted chocolate changes and becomes crumbly and nearly impossible to work with.  Remember, we just mixed an entire can of cream cheese frosting into the cake balls…moisture is guaranteed at this point.  Strike Two.

After recruiting my reluctant always-willing husband, we came up with a new plan: he would spoon some melted chocolate onto the wax paper, I would drop a rounded scoopful of the cake mixture onto it, then he would drizzle more chocolate on top, until the dollop was completely covered.  Genius, yes?  Well, except for the fact that doing it this way uses up the melted chocolate much quicker and we had to run again to the store.  Strike Three.

After we bought every single one of the semi-sweet baking chocolate bars and packages off the shelf, we went to work.  We spooned, scooped and smothered those little chocolate balls for the next hour and a half, dirtying nearly every dish in the kitchen, even this little fish-shaped appetizer bowl.

In the end though, they were done.  They were not the artful little Valentine’s-worthy showplace pieces that were so beautifully shown on the website.  In fact, they were more like amorphous blobs.  However, they tasted phenomenal!! Seriously, you have to try them — just get someone else to make them, maybe??

Given that they were not the most attractive looking, I was a little hesitant to bring those as my Thanksgiving contribution.  I settled for sending the red velvet cake balls into work with my husband, where I received way more praise than deserved.  While the compliments were nice, I still needed to create something to bring to Thanksgiving with me.  That’s when I discovered this recipe on another blog.

Apple cake.  Even the name is mouthwatering!  The recipe, written by someone known only as “Great Aunt Ethel,” was simple and direct (far from the maddening battle with red velvet cake balls), with no melting chocolate required! Excellent!

I thought to myself, “How could anything created by Great Aunt Ethel not be perfect?” and decided to give it a shot.  I followed the open recipe, using Granny Smith apples and also adding cinnamon, just a hint of nutmeg and the tiniest suggestion of cloves.  It was as easy as it sounded and the end product was beautiful, with all the flavors of apple pie but the texture of the moistest cake you’ve ever had. Even though the cake got slightly smushed in transport, my family loved it and gobbled it down quickly.  The praise for this one goes to 17 and baking and, of course, Great Aunt Ethel, but this recipe is definitely going into my files to use whenever an old classic needs a facelift. I’ll also ask the Rodelle Kitchen to give it a try…maybe they can think of one more simple step or ingredient to add that will make this already superb and homey recipe simply stellar!  Or, maybe you know what (if anything!) it is missing!  Try it out and let me know what you think!

Have you had any disasters or unbelievable successes re-imagining classic dishes?

Happy Baking!

Laura

Patience Crackstone and her husband Nathan toiled four days and nights to prepare their Thanksgiving offering, an earthy, roasted arrangement of carrots, squash and leeks that marinated hours in a ginger bath of water and stock before browning in a heavy skillet to bring out the sugars. They sat at the table in their Sunday best, exhausted, yet hopeful. There was much to celebrate.

The Crackstones joined in the First Thanksgiving to share the balance of their harvest and make friends with outsiders. Patience was smart enough to bring along a bottle of Tuaca, to smooth over the exhaustion and bring merriment to others. She blended it with cider and ginger ale, added whole cranberries and kumquats for colorful effect, and heated the brew over a bunsen burner. She enjoyed the hard cider with heavy whipping cream.

As did I, a small, dried blueberry who arrived late with appetizers in tow. It was my first, First Thanksgiving and I wanted to do it right. A blueberry with divergent tastes and a penchant for the nontraditional – hence the blueberry wig and not the pilgrim get-up – I knew my offering would have to satisfy palettes and tummies in a down home comfy way, yet also surprise and delight same palettes and tummies. I found this stuffed mushroom inspiration from one of my favorite blogs and tried out my fantasy sweet potato appetizer recommendation from last week. The Fantasy lives!!

Welcome to the joy of Rogue Rice, a supper club by way of quirky irreverence. My friends Katie and Lera spawned the idea last year – theme-based dinners that feature random concepts (for instance, All Things Pirate), yummy and reasonable food (you can’t spend more than $20 to prepare your offering), and of course, costumes. First Thanksgiving was a must and our team of foodies took to it with great gusto.

Sitting around the table, our collection of Crackstones, Native American goddesses (Skwantina Crackstone – she married Solomon Crackstone), Wishbones and Blueberries shared a meal of fantastic flavor.

Here’s what was on the Rogue Rice First Thanksgiving Menu (a little different to Patience’s all those years ago!):

Roasted Pork Loin
Scalloped Potatoes with Leeks and Nutmeg
Fall Salad with Persimmons, Toasted Hazelnuts, and Tangerine Vinaigrette
Ginger Infused Roasted Carrots, Squash and Leeks
Roasted Asparagus
Buttermilk biscuits
Pumpkin Cheesecake

I think we impressed ourselves. I know I was impressed, especially since our gluten-free Pilgrim Patience fared fantastically well – without us even trying. The only things she said ‘no’ to were the biscuits and the crust from the pumpkin cheesecake. Well done!

Over the evening, our Pilgrim talk – you know, how to survive another winter and where to source down for blankets and slippers – evolved into planning the next Rogue Rice event, which I’m thrilled to say will occur at my humble abode in late January (yes, I’ll have my furniture at last!). I’m keeping that theme under wraps for now. Unless, of course, you guess it, or better yet, share some ideas for future events. The more outlandish the better!!

Looking forward to hearing and sharing your Thanksgiving tales!

Carol

It’s been a contemplative week. A dear friend has been in the hospital, an old friend has been struggling with some life issues and I’ve been feeling a little less zippy than usual. With Thanksgiving coming fast on our heels, I’m reminded to look for the goodness in all things and to see abundance where I am prone to sense a gap – in finances, in love, and in work.

While walking about with a slightly heavy heart, I thought of the kids I don’t yet have. Traveling down imagination lane made me think of my friends’ kids who I know and love so dearly. I wondered, what could Thanksgiving mean to them, at 6, 7 and 8 years of age?

So I called up Zoe, age 8, for a little realignment (you can always count on kids for realignment!):

Carol: Hey Zoe, what are your favorite things about Thanksgiving?

Zoe: Eating turkey and mashed potatoes.

Carol: Yeah? Anything else? Like a favorite memory?

Zoe: It was funny when we dressed Capo [their dog] up like a pilgrim.

Carol: How fun! OK, what about Thanksgiving – what does it mean to you?

Zoe (without hesitation): I’m really thankful for my house and all the food I eat and I’m glad I get to live in this country in a good neighborhood with a good mom and dad and a good school.

Carol: That’s a lot. You’re lucky, Zoe.

Zoe: I know. I also really like how I get to bake the pie with my mom.

I love how Zoe skipped saying, “Thanksgiving means being thankful for….” Instead, she went straight to the heart of what she’s thankful for. It’s like she carries this gratitude with her daily, regardless of the holiday. Thank you Zoe for reminding me that goodness follows me everywhere I go!

This is what I love about Thanksgiving. It offers everyone the chance to turn inward and rejoice over our gifts while considering how we may give. Perhaps that is what I love most about this holiday, we each have our own spin on what Thanksgiving means. We can make the holiday mean whatever we want – from finding common ground to continuing the time-honored tradition of beating our cousins in football.

Even more, we can make it mean something different every year. This year I’m taking time out to celebrate my good fortune by baking new recipes and sharing an amazing meal with friends and family. Is that any different than last year? Not really, but, I won’t be in Moab on my mountain bike. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to dance around – it’s only my favorite thing!

But enough about me, what about you? Send me your reflections on what Thanksgiving means or your favorite turkey day traditions and I’ll raise a glass to you and give thanks this holiday season!

Enjoy,

Carol

Thanks to rachel r, stuckincustoms, and sassyradish for the use of their excellent photos.

What are some of your family traditions around this Fall season?

It is such a fun time of the year for families, with lots of activities and the anticipation of the coming holidays! Halloween is only a week and a half away.  Costumes and candy are a necessity, of course; but what would Halloween be without a Jack-O-Lantern?

We went to a pumpkin patch last weekend.  It was crowded with people all searching for that perfect gourd while children, looking on the verge of tipping over, ran around carrying bowling ball sized pumpkins.  Even with all the competition, we managed to find (several) ideal pumpkins that would soon become victims of a carving massacre.  Sitting on the floor with my husband, surrounded by the gutted pumpkins, knives and pattern traces, I could feel a tradition in the making.  Although he is much more artistic than I am (all the interesting Jack-O-Lanterns are his), it was fun to work on this together and mutilate/enjoy the iconic image of Halloween.

With all these beautiful pumpkins around me, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try out some new dishes either. This was the first time I’d ever tried baking with fresh pumpkin (although, I did keep a can or two on the side just in case) and it was definitely an experience.  Although not all pumpkins are meant to be baked, I did scrape enough away to whip up some loaves of pumpkin bread and muffins (I used this recipe, although I added Rodelle vanilla extract and omitted the walnuts and frosting), attempted a pumpkin based soup (epic failure on my part, although the recipe looks delicious) and even made treats for the dogs!  After the soup fiasco, I felt the need to redeem myself and tried out a few of Rodelle’s Halloween recipes.  The Candy Corn Rice Crispy treats were so easy that my kitchen confidence was boosted immediately! And Rodelle’s rolled sugar cookies turned out amazingly for such a simple recipe.

Of course, Americans are not the only ones who have a supernatural day approaching.  Falling immediately after America’s Halloween, Dia de los Muertos spans the first two days of November, coinciding with the Catholic celebrations of All Saints Day and All Souls Day.  Dia de los Muertos, celebrated mostly in Mexico, also includes family, friends and paranormal experiences.  People gather together to celebrate and remember loved ones who have passed away, bringing gifts and their favorite foods to grave sites, hoping for a ghostly visit from long gone relatives.  There are several customary foods, like Pan de Muerto, that are made leading up to Dia de los Muertos.

Someday, I hope to get the chance to celebrate Dia de los Muertos.  For now, it’s time to display the Jack-O-Lanterns, hope that they don’t cave in and get ready for Halloween!   Do you create costumes together, carve pumpkins, hang up decorations?  We’d love to hear your stories!

Always,

Laura