Homemade biscuits baked in my mom’s cast iron skillet.

Oh… And an apron with cows and gingham check that my mom made for me.

I used Lisa Fain’s recipe from her Homesick Texan cookbook for these biscuits. You can find Lisa’s recipe and a photo tutorial online courtesy of CNN’s Eatocracy.

And what happens to all of those pages?

I rip out the page of a magazine with the best of inspired intentions. But I rarely do anything with them. And I know I can’t be alone in doing this. After all, isn’t this why we all love Pinterest?

But just the other day, a page in Saveur’s recent 100 most bestest things ever issue, there was a full page dedicated to adding preserves to cocktails (idea #56, page #49). And this struck me as beyond brilliant. And I did it. I did not let the page collect dust or get lost or get thrown out. Of course, this may have to do with the fact that this recipe could be as simple as mixing together two ingredients that I already like a lot and have in abundance.

So what did I do?

Simple. I stirred about a teaspoon of my cousin’s homemade raspberry jam into a generous glass of Prosecco.

And wham-o! A bubbly cocktail! With jam!

And, lest you be thinking, “But all those seeds?!” Have no fear. They sank to the bottom of the glass. I won’t pretend to understand why that happened, but it did and I didn’t have any seeds between my teeth. And, really, isn’t getting a mimosa with orange juice in it worse than a few raspberry seeds?

One note, you’ll probably want a jam that is very easy to stir so that you don’t stir the bubbles out of the Prosecco when you mix the jam in.  But it’s a personal choice. Kind of liking choosing to have a mimosa that actually has orange juice in it (really? orange juice? why? just drink the prosecco, no orange juice.).

Regardless, I feel that it’s important to double-check that the Prosecco and Raspberry Jam combination is as good as I think it was. And maybe I’ll test some of my bourbon with a touch of marmalade or peach preserves. You know, so that I can say that I fully explored this concept and got the most out of that ripped out magazine page.

Happy New Year!

And then, I go and do something stupid.

Again.

I’ve already learned the hard way that rubbing my eyes after handling poblano peppers is a bad idea. But, apparently, I needed to teach myself this lesson again except with way more dramatic results and an audience too.

On Christmas Eve, I was dicing celery, poblanos, garlic and onions for a jambalaya that I wanted to share with my family. You know, so I could show off this fun recipe that I make for myself all the time with like zero problems. Things were going along just swimmingly until I got to the supposedly mild onion after dicing two supposedly mild poblano peppers.

The onion was so strong that I swear it could’ve peeled paint from the ceiling and it left me crying so hard that I couldn’t see to cut the second half of the darned thing. There was no way to keep dicing the onion without splashing my eyes with water to clear them.

Big mistake. Huge. Ginormous.

Because I was splashing cold water all over my face and eyes with hands that were covered in poblano pepper oil. Instead of finding relief, I very nearly burned my eyes out of my head.

But did I even realize why it was so bad? No. I didn’t. Instead, I walked as calmly as I could to the bathroom to try to wash my eyes out a little better because I figured I had smeared my new mascara into my eyes and was having a bad reaction to that. And when I couldn’t even open my eyes, I thought that maybe the hard water at my parents’ house wasn’t helping things and could even be making things worse.

It did not even occur to me that I had poblano oils all over my hands.

My poor parents. I may have totally freaked them out when I ever so calmly asked them to bring me a wash cloth and cold, bottled water to me. Especially since I was standing at the bathroom door incapable of opening my eyes with a flaming red face and swelling eyes.

By the time I figured out what was what, I had managed to get poblano oil all over my face. So… Just imagine how it feels when you get pepper oil in a tiny cut on your hand… Okay. Now imagine that multiplied by about a 1000 million along with a panicky moment of worry that you’re going to spend Christmas Eve in the emergency room.

Luckily, I finally got it together and figured out what the heck I’d done to myself. And here is what I learned.

1) Wash your hands with soap and water to get the offending oil off of your hands.

2) Neutrogena’s Pink Grapefruit Face Wipes cut right through the oil and will bring you sweet, sweet relief. The bonus is that it’s safe to use on your face and eyelids, and easy to get out of the package even when you can’t open your eyes.

3) Cold wash cloths soaked in water help reduce the redness and pain.

4) Cold wash cloths soaked in milk are even better.

5) The show will go on.

No, really. Dinner had to get done. And I wasn’t going to be a big baby despite the fact that I had just been in so much pain I couldn’t cry. Instead, I got right back to it. My mom had finished dicing the onion for me, but I got right back in the kitchen and finished preparing the rest of the dinner.

It turned out okay, but very, very, very spicy. Stupid “mild” poblanos. Nothing that a glass of milk couldn’t fix though.

Oh. And maybe a threat or two that everyone was going to like dinner no matter what since it was filled with the tears of my suffering.

One of the reasons was the need to be closer to family and friends, which could have meant a move to Texas (family) or to D.C. (family of friends). But the reality is that what I wanted most was to move to Texas, the home state of my heart.

Since it’s only a two-day drive from Omaha to Austin (if you don’t kill yourself with a 16-hour, one-day drive), Sunday will mark seven months of living in Texas. And I have loved every moment of it. Well, except for the time I found out there was a half-inch screw in my Xterra’s tire. That kind of sucked. But at least the guy at the tire shop was more than willing to help a damsel in distress. Not the point though.

This is what happy looks like: My first stop in Texas during my move home.

So what does moving home to Texas after having spent most of my life in the diaspora mean? Well, it means that I no longer feel like I’m not where I’m supposed to be. It means that the longing in my heart to be somewhere else has quieted. If there’s a wish to be somewhere else, it’s not because I’m not happy where I am, it’s because there’s an awful darned long list of things I want to do and let’s go there or do that next.

For this reason, I think I can relate to some of what my friend Ellise Pierce may experience as she divides her time between Paris and Texas. No matter where she is at the moment, she seems to love being there, but she’s also excited for what she’ll be able to experience next – whether it is the next bowl of queso, the next brocante or the next trip (in either direction) across the pond.

Ellise’s home encompasses Texas and Paris. And so does her cooking. She has shared her recipes with us through her blog, Cowgirl Chef. And now she’s sharing her recipes that encompass her love of Texas and Paris in her new cookbook, Cowgirl Chef: Texas Cooking with a French Accent.

In honor of Ellise’s cookbook launch, the #LetsLunch bunch is honoring her (one of the group’s co-founders!) with posts about recipes that bring together two cultures.

My Texas blue plate special: Chicken Fried Steak, cream gravy and (purple) mashed potatoes.

I didn’t have to think long about what I wanted to make in honor of Ellise. For me, making Chicken Fried Steak represents a part of home because it brings together different elements of my life into one dish. Much like Ellise’s dishes bring together the elements of her life.

Chicken Fried Steak reminds me of being in my Grandma Mary Lou’s grocery store while Cathy, the store’s butcher, cubed a steak for a customer. Chicken Fried Steak also reminds me of meals with my Grandma Mary Lou, who shared her recipe with me. But Chicken Fried Steak also reminds me of my Mom and Dranny making Schnitzel (which is an awful lot like Chicken Fried Steak) using a recipe they learned while living in Germany. And Chicken Fried Steaks also remind me of dinners with Mom and Dranny at the Lakehouse in Kerrville.

And every single one of these memories reminds me of home, even if home isn’t a single place.

So, last night, I set aside my fear of burning the ever living daylights out myself and fried up some Chicken Fried Steaks. I made some creamed gravy and mashed potatoes to go with ‘em, too.

All things considered, the Chicken Fried Steaks turned out just about right. I need to keep practicing my frying technique, but the crust was crunchy and came away from the meat just the way it’s supposed to. The gravy wasn’t lumpy, but it’s been a while since I made cream gravy and need to work on the consistency and seasoning. And the mashed potatoes were purple. What more could I ask for?

All-in-all, it was totally worth setting aside my fear of frying and to tackle something on my “let’s do that next” list.

To Ellise, I’d like to say: CONGRATULATIONS!!! I am so happy that your talent is being showcased in your very own cookbook. And I cannot wait to make your recipes a part of my collection and my home.

To see how the other members of the #LetsLunch bunch are celebrating Ellise’s cookbook, check out the #LetsLunch hashtag on Twitter. I’ll try to add links to the other posts later this weekend. No promises yet, though; there’s a Texas-sized list of adventures to get into, after all. =)

Lesson One: Careful with the peppers!
So, uh, yeah. You know those ginormous poblano peppers? You know, the ones that are mild and so versatile?

Well, I’ve taken to treating them like bell peppers because they have more flavor and they’re just so darned easy to get at the store. Heck, you’ll find the poblanos before you’ll find the bell peppers at one of the Central Markets here in Austin. So the substitution makes perfect sense to me.

Or it did make perfect sense until I decided to dice up three of them, barely run my hands under the water and then rub my eyelid. Great blazing balls of fire does that hurt. But not like a blazing ball of fire you’d get from a jalapeno or – heaven forbid! – a habanero; it’s more like a slow burn that builds up as the poblano oil seeps into my eyelid and is slowly burning away the skin and maybe the eyeball, too.

Also, for the record, three poblanos plus some red pepper flakes plus some cumin will lead to an unexpectedly spicy hot dish that will leave your lips tingling. At least some sour cream will help with that one. Too bad sour cream won’t take the sting out of my eyelid. Or will it? Hmm…

Lesson Two: Flour your cake pans!
My coworkers have requested a Pina Colada Cake. The last couple of times I’ve baked the cakes, the edges have been crisper than I liked. I thought it might be that I coated the pan with too much PAM for Baking. So what did I do? Did I use less PAM for Baking? No… Of course not. Instead I used plain ol’ regular PAM. No flour.

No flour! In a cake pan! With cake batter in it!

What a stupid, rookie mistake.

Always flour your cake pans (unless the recipe says you shouldn’t). Otherwise, you have that sickening moment when you flip the cake pan over and the cake doesn’t come out. Instead, the cake comes away from the pan with an awful suctioning sound of cake tearing. And this is what you get.

Bottomless cakes aren't desirable

Cakes with no bottoms.

The saving grace of this stupid, rookie mistake is the fact that Pina Colada filling along with some frosting and shredded coconut will cover a multitude of sins.

Including cakes with no bottoms.

Lesson Three: Frosting is good.
That is all. No further explanation needed. Just the reiteration that “Frosting is good.”

What I really wanted though was a Pina Colada Coconut Cake. Using the Coconut Cake as my starting point, I made a few tweaks. Added some rum and pineapple, tested my work as I went along, added some more rum, tested my work again, added a little bit of pineapple juice and a splash more of rum, tested it again and thought, “Well, by golly, this might be a winner!”

That could’ve been the rum talking, but I prefer to think of it as me channeling Julia Child in some fashion.

Baby slice of Pina Colada Coconut Cake - Rum makes it better!

Whatever the case may be, the Pina Colada Coconut Cake was a success. How do I know? My toughest, no holds barred critics told me so.

I took this cake home to my parents. Two of the few people who rarely bother to sugarcoat their commentary if they don’t like something I’ve made. And if they do sugarcoat their commentary, it tastes like Equal or Sweet N Low, and I know they’re lying to spare my feelings.

This time, my Mom and Dranny were genuinely complimentary of my baking efforts. In fact, they liked it so much that I was lucky to get to bring any back home with me after my visit. I might not have fought them for it, but I thought about it for a moment or two.

Luckily, it didn’t come to that and I’ve been enjoying little slices of Pina Colada Coconut Cake for breakfast (it has fruit in it!), an afternoon snack with coffee (it was a rainy, dreary afternoon!) and dessert (hello, it’s cake!). So clearly this is a well-rounded, all-occasions sort of recipe. ;)

If you’d like to try it for yourself, then here’s the recipe. The result should be a rich cake that tastes like a really good Pina Colada, not one of those fake pre-mixed drinks.

Pina Colada Coconut Cake

Cake 
(adapted from Nancie McDermott’s recipe for Classic Coconut Cake in Southern Cakes)

3 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup coconut milk
1/2 cup coconut juice
2 teaspoons rum
1 cup butter, room temperature
2 cups sugar
4 eggs, room temperature

Preheat oven to 325 degrees Farenheit.

Combine flour, baking powder and salt in a bowl; mixing them together well with a fork. Set aside.

Mix coconut milk, coconut juice and rum together. Set aside.

In your mixing bowl, beat the butter until smooth. Add sugar and beat light and fluffy. Add one egg at a time. Add vanilla. Scraping down the sides as necessary throughout.

Alternating the flour mixture and the coconut and rum mixture, add 1/2 of the flour mixture to the mixing bowl. Add coconut and rum mixture. Add remaining flour mixture. Mix. Add remaining coconut and rum mixture. Beating throughout on low to medium speed until all ingredients are combined. This will be a thicker batter than some cakes.

Grease and flour two 9-inch round cake pans. Fill each pan with half of the cake batter.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean and the cakes just begins to pull away from the side of the pans just slightly.

Cool in pans for 5 minutes or so. Remove from pans and transfer to cooling racks.

Pina Colada Filling
(my own recipe)

3/4 to 1 cup fresh pineapple, finely chopped
rum
1/4 to 1/2 cup grated, sweetened coconut flakes
pineapple juice to taste

Put finely chopped pineapple in a measuring glass. Cover with enough rum to reach the one cup mark or so. Dump into a medium mixing bowl. Add shredded coconut. Mix. Add a splash or two of pineapple juice to your taste preference. The goal is to create a pina colada flavor for the filling. If necessary (or just because you like it), add more rum, pineapple , rum or coconut. The end result should be a pina colada mash though, not a sauce.

Let sit while the cake bakes and then cools. Just don’t sample too much or else you’ll have to make more for the cake.

Frosting
(my own recipe adapted from Better Homes & Gardens Cook Book’s recipes for Cream Cheese Frosting)

8 ounces neufchatel cheese or cream cheese, softened (the neufchatel is my nod to healthy)
1 stick butter (1/2 cup), softened
1 2-pound bag powered sugar (there goes the healthy)
3 to 4 teaspoons coconut milk
3 to 4 teaspoons rum
shredded coconut

In a large mixing bowl, beat cream cheese and butter together until well combined and getting fluffy. Add in powered sugar 1 cup at a time or at whatever pace prevents it from flying all over your kitchen while mixing it. Add enough coconut milk and rum to give your frosting a smooth, light, fluffy frosting texture. Beat on high to make fluffier.

If you add too much rum or coconut milk, add a little more powered sugar. And if it seems too stiff, add a little more rum and/or coconut milk.

Place one cake on your serving plate. Frost the top of the cake with about 1 to 1 1/2 cups frosting. Top the frosting with the Pina Colada Filling. Add second layer. Frost top and sides with remaining frosting. If Pina Colada Filling escapes from the middle, just work it into the frosting. No harm there, just more Pina Colada goodness in more places.

Cover the entire cake with shredded coconut. Pat coconut flakes into the cake gently to cover all the bare spots.

If possible, let the cake sit overnight to allow the filling to be absorbed into the frosting and cake layers, and the flavors to meld.

Slice. Serve. Enjoy!!!

In college, I met my bestest friend, Lucia. She’s one of just a couple of friends who I know would most likely be sitting beside me inside the jail cell (metaphorically speaking) should I ever get into all kinds of trouble.

Lucia is also the person who got me hooked on a whole wide array of music. She had the most meticulously organized collection of CDs that spanned darned near every genre. And if my own collection grew significantly while we lived together in D.C., it’s all her doing for introducing me to the joy of randomly wandering through music stores. (okay, well, it wasn’t all her fault, i also had — fine, have — a bit shopping habit and cds were an easy fix at the time)

It's Coconut Cake for now, but next time it'll be Pina Colada Coconut Cake!

And, if I were to choose just one song that was “our” song and the one that we’ll dance to at my bachelorette party, it’d be Garth Brooks’ Two Pina Coladas. One of my favorite pictures of us is of us dancing on our couch singing Two Pina Coladas at the top of lungs during a Girls’ Night In Celebration on New Year’s Eve. And when the song gets stuck in my head on repeat, it’s not Garth I hear singing, it’s me and Lucia that I hear.

My love of that song and all the amazing memories it brings back, made picking it as my inspiration for this month’s #LetsLunch bunch very easy. So, for this month’s music-inspired recipes, I present my first attempt at making a Coconut Cake. In it’s next iteration, it will be a Pina Colada Coconut Cake though. Unfortunately, my baking has been curtailed by a cold that is knocking me for a bit of the loop by the end of the day.

(Feb. 16 Note: I made the Pina Colada Coconut Cake! Here’s the recipe!)

But first, more about the Coconut Cake Trials….

On Monday night, I made the Classic Coconut Cake recipe from Nancie McDermott’s Southern Cakes because it was the one recipe that had some direction to include coconut of some sort in the cake itself, not just in the frosting. In this case, I chose to fudge with the directions a bit and to use a 1/2 cup coconut milk and a 1/2 cup coconut juice instead of following the directions to use 1 cup of either milk or coconut juice. The result was a dense, rich cake that I liked for itself and not just because it was going to be a carrier for frosting, which is typically the only reason why cake matters to me.

I also departed from Nancie’s suggested frosting in favor a cream cheese frosting made with a bit of coconut milk and coconut juice instead of the milk or orange juice I typically use. After frosting the cake, I then liberally covered it in sweetened coconut flakes.

I liked the cake. It was just enough coconut flavor to be enjoyable, but not cloying or overpowering. Even better yet, my coworkers liked it, too. Even a couple of them who said they don’t like coconut cake. Honestly, I was feeling a bit giddy from all of the compliments.

However, to truly live up to its music inspiration, this cake is going to have to turn it up a few more decibels.

My plan is to stick with the cake recipe as is. It works and I like it.

The frosting is where I’m going to make adjustments by flavoring the cream cheese frosting with coconut milk and/or rum. And between the layers of frosting, I plan to mix in some fresh pineapple bits and some extra coconut flakes.

If all goes according to my plans, I’ll be making this cake tonight and sharing it with my family this weekend, and I’ll be sure to share the details with y’all!

In the meantime, I’m going to sing along to Two Pina Coladas too loudly for a round or three.

Enjoy!

#LetsLunch is a monthly virtual potluck that every is invited to. To join in on the fun, search for the #LetsLunch hashtag on Twitter. I’ll also be sharing links to other posts as I can. So be sure to check back.

• Hot Curries & Cold Beer: A Song and Recipe of Remembrance for Rashda’s Dad
• Free Range Cookies: Gluten-Free Thin Mints Inspired by the Bee Gees
• Cowgirl Chef: “Teach Me Tiger” Cakes
• Monday Morning Cooking Club: Hukilau and Coconut and Macadamias
• ShowFood Chef: Jazzy Blues and Chicken and Dumplings
• Beyond the Plate: Django Reinhardt & Pear Frangipane Tart
• GeoFooding: Singing the Blues over Just One Meatball
• Spicebox Travels: Buena Vista Social Club, Frijoles, Platanos and Mojitos
• Burnt-Out Baker: Rockin’ Chili Burgers
• The Asian Grandmother’s Cookbook: Purple Rice Pudding with Rose Water Dates
• Patrick G. Lee: Exeter College Organ Music and the Munchies

Even better, it was one of those days when I wasn’t fighting with the kitchen or the recipes. I did, however, have a bit of fight with myself because I wasn’t too organized while making the cookies. But that wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed with some coffee.

Unfortunately, I have hit the point where I can’t quite justify eating nothing but sweets and carbs for dinner. Especially since I haven’t been to the gym in a week. (oops…)

Instead, I redirected my happy-to-be-in-the-kitchen energy and made Bon Appetit’s Chickpea Stew from the February 2012 issue. The photo from the magazine (not the one shown here! that’s my own amateur shot.) thoroughly captured my attention and the ease of the recipe had me tearing it out of the magazine for future use.

Chickpea Stew (camera phone shot, since my camera battery died. again.)

This weekend, it made sense to make it because the recipe makes just about four servings; perfect for an experimental dish that could go good or bad. Plus, I had all but one of the ingredients listed on hand. My modification to the recipe was to replace the skin-on, bone-in chicken thighs (which I didn’t have in the fridge or freezer) with the Cajun sausage I did have and that was going to go bad if it wasn’t used pronto.

Personally, I liked the spice combination (cumin, garlic and bay leaves) and the heartiness of this dish (chickpeas, sausage and bread cubes to soak up the stew’s broth). Knowing how good skin-on, bone-in chicken thighs can be, I won’t hesitate to use them the next time I make this dish; they’ll likely lend an extra bit of juice after they’ve been cooked that sausage doesn’t have. Next time, I’ll also be sure to add some extra liquid while simmering this dish so that there’s more leftover stew broth to sopped up with bread cubes (that was my favorite part!).

To make this dish even better, it seems to be leftover friendly so I ladled what was left into take-along bowls and made little bags of bread cubes and parsley to serve with it for lunch at work tomorrow. That’ll sure beat the heck out of running down the street to buy a pre-made sandwich.

Check out the recipe on BonAppetit.com, and enjoy!

PS – I had the leftovers for lunch today. Uh. Yeah. Even better on day two. All the flavors melded together perfectly for an even better taste.

Priorities – I’m not sure I’ve got them in order, but I’m pretty sure my future guests will appreciate that I bought a sleeper sofa instead of making them sleep on the floor or whathaveyou. Maybe. We’ll see what they think after the sofa arrives.

Tamale Pie served with chow-chow and shredded cheddar

As for my late #LetsLunch recipe? It is the amalgamation of several recipes. And, as you might’ve noticed in the picture. There are beans in it.

Yes.

Beans.

Beans in my chili.

Any number of Texans are shuddering and shaking their fists at me right now since Texas chili is meat. No beans.

Quite frankly, I’m a little worried this could result in me being deported from Texas to some state like Ohio or something similarly terrible.

But I can explain, I promise.

My family lays claim to Texas as our home. My Dranny lived in Stratford. My mom was born in Houston. My Grandma Mary Lou lives on the Texas side of Texhoma and goodness help you if you insinuate she lives in Oklahoma.

But me? I’ve lived all over the place with my parents (that’d be my Mom and Dranny). And they lived all over the place to thanks to my grandfather’s Army career. And when you live all over the place and when money is as tight as it can be, you get creative with your leftovers.

In our case, a big ol’ pot of pinto beans was just fine for leftovers once or twice. But if the beans made it to a third night, it was more than likely that they were reincarnated as part of a pot of chili. This leftovers reincarnation served a couple of purposes. One: The beans were loved. Two: The beans stretched that pot of chili a little further than it might’ve gone if it’d just been meat.

When I left the family nest and was barely making ends meet in D.C. on my Hill staffer’s entry-level salary, beans in my chili were a necessity. Actually, they were probably about all that was in my chili.

And so, the tradition and even the preference for beans in my chili has carried in my house ever since.

What has changed though is how I season my chili. Growing up, our standard was to season the chili with that packet of chili seasoning you buy at the store. Then I found a recipe for Tamale Pie in my early 20s that featured cumin, chili powder, cocoa, cinnamon and nutmeg. Hence my fear of being deported to Ohio, where they put beans and cinnamon in their chili. And for folks who don’t know, Tamale Pie is, basically, chili with a layer of cornbread baked on top of it. (basically, right?)

Tamale Pie hot out of the oven

Since those early experimental, post-college, broke-as-all-get-out days, I’ve played with the seasonings quite a bit and don’t even bother with a recipe anymore. Not really. Instead, I use whatever seasonings sound good to me and that will complement the meat I plan to use.

While the recipe is never exactly the same, here is a rough guideline for making your own Tamale Pie. I will confess that this version contains no references to cocoa, cinnamon or nutmeg since I was using a spicy cajun sausage from Central Market. I couldn’t imagine those flavors going together at all.

Tamale Pie
Serves 10-12

2 or 3 poblano peppers diced (no poblano peppers? use green bell peppers instead)
2 jalapenos seeded and fine diced
1 large onion of your choice diced
3 or 4 cloves of garlic minced
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 Tablespoon chili powder
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon salt
several cranks of fresh ground pepper
1/2 pound chili ground beef (or regular ground beef if your butcher isn’t as helpful as mine)
1/2 pound ground bison (or just another 1/2 pound of beef, if you can’t get ground bison)
1/2 pound spicy ground sausage
1 or 2 cans of kidney beans
1 or 2 cans of black beans
more chili powder
more cumin
Tabasco sauce

Cornbread of choice (I used two boxes of Jiffy, prepared according to the directions)
Lots of shredded cheese

In a large, oven-proof Dutch oven or similar big, heavy-bottomed pan (5qts or so), sautee the peppers, jalapenos, onion and garlic in the vegetable oil. As the veggies start to soften, add in your first round of seasonings. This would be the 1 Tablespoon of chili powder, 1 teaspoon of cumin, 1 teaspoon of salt and the fresh cracked pepper listed above.

Crumble the ground meat into the pan and brown it until cooked through. That means no pink. As it browns, stir it and break up any chunks that you think are to big.

As it browns, I like to add more spices.

It’s about this time that I add another Tablespoon of chili powder, another teaspoon of ground cumin, another teaspoon of salt, more fresh cracked pepper and about 8 or 9 dashes of Tabasco sauce. You can use more or less depending on how spicy you like your food.

And you don’t have to add all the extra seasoning all at once. I am a huge proponent of the test-taste bowl. You know, the bowl you scoop a couple of bites into so that you can test the seasoning of whatever it is you’re making. Please tell me I’m not the only one who does this, am I?

Anyhow, once the meat has been browned and seasoned, add the beans. Taste again. Add more seasonings. For this batch, I added another Tablespoon of chili powder and a few more shakes of Tabasco sauce.

And then I let it simmer on the stove for a while. I recommend letting it simmer on low heat for at least an hour. You want all those flavors to marry together. You’ll also want to test the flavor, too. Adjusting as suits your taste buds.

At this point, pre-heat your oven according to the recipe for your cornbread recipe. Shred some cheddar, too.

Now, pull the chili off the stove. sprinkle generous amount of cheddar on top the chili. Then pour the cornbread over the top of it all.

Bake until the cornbread is done. If you’re using two boxes of Jiffy in a 5 qt pan, then you’ll need to bake it for about 40 or 45 minutes to make sure the cornbread is baked all the way through.

Serve the Tamale Pie with your favorite toppings. Mine are more shredded cheese and my Mom’s chow-chow. You might also want to try sour cream, diced onions, pickled jalapeno slices or other goodies.

Enjoy!

Basbousa (aka coconut and semolina cake bar)

When I read the recipe initially, I somehow managed to tell myself that the piroulines would be easy to make. The recipe for basbousa somehow struck me as being more complex because it called for making a simple syrup.

I could not have been more wrong. And clearly, my ability to read a recipe and accurately judge its complexity is flawed beyond measure.

Basbousa, described in the cookie book as a Middle Eastern dessert or tea treat, were stupidly easy, especially since I took the time to arrange my mise en place for once.

In terms of taste, these had a not-too-sweet, light coconut flavor with a cake-ish texture that reminded me of a good sheet cake. I’ll definitely be making them again, especially for potlucks or when I need a simple dessert to make on a weeknight when I get the itch to bake, but don’t have the energy for something too complicated.

The only change I might make is to add some coarsely chopped almonds to the cookie batter itself. The almond on top of each cookie bar added after baking gave the cookie bar some needed crunch and a little more depth to the flavor overall that I liked.

Basbousa
makes about 16 cake bars (because calling them cookies doesn’t seem so right)
Adapted from The Great Big Cookie Book (because, again, their directions aren’t so clear)

For the simple syrup
1/2 cup sugar
2/3 cup water
1 tablespoon lemon juice

In a small sauce pan, combine all three ingredients and bring to a boil over medium heat. Simmer for a about 8 minutes. Let it cool down a bit and then refrigerate it.

Following this process, I was able to set my mise en place for the next part and nearly have the cookie dough ready to go into the oven by the time the syrup began to come to a simmer. However, times will vary if you set your syrup mixture on the stove at a higher or lower temperature. So just keep an eye on the syrup as it sits on the heat and then comes to a boil and simmers. And whatever you do, when it does come to a boil, be careful. There are few things more painful than having hot simple syrup burns.

For the cake bars
1/2 cup unsalted butter
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup all-purpose flour (I used a whole wheat white flour)
1 1/4 cup semolina (A type of flour that you typically hear about in association with pasta. Bob’s Red Mill makes a good option, in case you’re wondering.)
1 1/2 cup grated coconut (I just used the sweetened kind you can buy in a bag.)
1/2 cup milk
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
whole almonds to decorate the top

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Get out an 8-inch square cake pan and grease it with some nonstick spray (I like PAM’s nonstick spray for baking.)

Melt butter in a medium saucepan. Remove the pan from the heat. Add all the other ingredients and mix it together thoroughly.

Pour it into the cake pan and make sure it’s evenly spread out in the pan. The mixture will be a bit thick, so you may need to use your hands to get it in the pan evenly.

Bake for 30 to 35 minutes.

When the cake bars are done, cut them immediately into squares or diamonds. Pour the chilled simply syrup over the top and decorate each one with an almond (or two, if you want).

Enjoy!