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Day 16 – Soup Season

Yesterday, I talked a little about making sauces, but what I didn’t tell you is that the way I discovered how easy it was to make your own sauce was by pouring my favorite roasted tomato soup over some pasta because I didn’t want to go to the store to get spaghetti sauce. What I expected to be an it’ll-do-in-a-pinch experience turned out to be one of my favorite a-ha moments to date.

Soup season is a bit of a misnomer with me. All seasons can be soup seasons if you try hard enough. When the weather turns even the slightest hint of chilly (I’ll even take a pleasant, less-hot breeze in July), I make soup. It is easily one of my top five favorite foods. I eat it all year long. I’ve even been known to turn the fan higher or the a/c down so that I can eat it comfortably. Even if it’s not soup weather outside, I can make it soup weather in my apartment.

I often eat it as a side, pairing it with a sandwich or a hearty salad. But the best way to eat soup is by sipping it straight from a cup, only veering from this method to dip a piece of crusty bread into it. No utensils required.

Of course, this only works if the soup is mostly broth or pureed. If you leave big chunks like you see pictured above in it, trying to drink it from a cup is sure to be messy. However, take your trusty immersion blender to that concoction, and soon you have a perfectly sippable and dippable soup.

What I love most about making soup is that it’s difficult to mess it up. I mean, you can – I certainly have – but you really have to try hard to produce a soup that’s just inedible. But most of the time, I can create a warm, wonderful bowl of happiness from whatever I have in my fridge, freezer, and pantry.

Since I don’t always have the same ingredients on hand, it is possible I will make the same soup several different ways. For example, one of my favorites is split pea soup, but I don’t have a set list of ingredients I need (other than split peas, of course) to make it happen. Other than the peas themselves, my last few versions had little in common. But they were all good.

Today, instead of a recipe that tells you one way to do it, I’m going to give you a roadmap for making your own unique soup. Play around with it, and see what you come up with!

Basic steps:

  1. Read through these steps and take inventory of what you have. Once you have decided what you want to put in your soup, chop/dice/mince everything so that it’s ready to be added when its turn comes.
  2. Saute your aromatics – onions, garlic, fennel, celery, bell peppers (or any type of peppers, for that matter). I usually use onions, garlic, and one additional aromatic.
  3. Add your vegetables – carrots, potatoes, tomatoes, corn, any sort of squash, etc. What you add in this step mostly depends on the type of soup you have in mind, but sometimes it’s fun to just throw in whatever is taking up space in your crisper and let whatever happens happen. Let them soften a little before you move on.
  4. Pour in your soup base – some type of stock (veggie, mushroom, beef, chicken, etc.), tomato sauce, or just water. I often dissolve an onion soup packet in water and use that. You need enough to fully cover everything else. Add water if it looks too thick at any point.
  5. Add seasonings – literally anything you want. Oregano, basil, parsley, bay leaves (remove it before eating) – all of these are standard soup herbs. You are certainly not limited to them, though. I have been on a garam masala kick lately. Highly recommend. This is also the time to add salt (to taste).
  6. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer until you just can’t take it anymore and have to have a bowl.

Optional steps:

  • Add beans – during step 4. If canned, rinse before adding; don’t just dump in from the can. If dry, you’re going to need to add more liquid and keep an eye on it while they cook (for a few hours) so you can add more water as needed. Ditto for split peas and lentils, although they won’t take as long to cook.
  • Add carbs – during step 6. After you have a good boil going, slip in some pasta or rice for a heartier soup (you’ll need more liquid if you’re planning on doing this). Follow package directions and cook until done.
  • Add meat – after step 2 (if raw – cook fully before going forward) or after step 3 (if already cooked – great way to use leftover roast, btw).
  • Add dairy – during step 6 after you reduce heat and reach a simmer point – really, about 5-10 minutes before serving, just enough to warm and incorporate it. Cream is the traditional favorite, but I’ve used milk, evaporated milk, plain Greek yogurt, and sour cream. My favorite thing to add at this stage is not dairy at all – coconut milk, which is especially good with warm spice blends, such as curry.

I hope you have fun experimenting. I’d love to hear about what you come up with.

I’m writing about food that makes me feel at home this month.

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Day 15 – Baking Season

I’m pretty sure my mom baked all year long when we were growing up. We always had muffins we could warm up from the freezer for a quick breakfast, and I can’t imagine that we went too many weeks without biscuits or banana bread or something. But I just cannot fathom heating my whole apartment up by turning on the oven when the outside temps reach the upper 80s and above. I cannot take the heat; ergo, I stay out of the kitchen. I mean, I stick around long enough to throw some things in the Instapot or slow cooker or do a quick stir fry, but otherwise, for about half the year, my diet is mostly sandwiches, salads, and charcuterie (whetting your appetite for a future post here).

One of my favorite smells, however, is something baking in the oven. I love that first moment of walking into a bakery. One of the weird, lovely things about living in an apartment is that I get to smell what my neighbors bake, too. It’s a very soothing, very homey aroma, and I adore it.

So by the time it gets cool enough, I usually have a list of the things I’m excited to bake. One of the first things that goes in my oven every year is beer bread.

You can use a mix to make beer bread, but you don’t really need it. It’s just as easy from scratch. All the mix contains is self-rising flour and sugar, and I prefer my beer bread without the sugar anyway. So you just mix 3 cups of self-rising flour with a beer, plop it into a standard 9×5 nonstick loaf pan (or six mini-bundts, if you want to be cute about it, which I absolutely do), pour a ridiculous amount of melted butter over the top, and bake at 375 degrees for 30-40 minutes.

“But Suzanne,” you say. “I don’t keep self-rising flour in my pantry.” Well, if you have some basic baking ingredients in your cupboard (and if you at least keep all-purpose flour, you probably do), you can amend this easily. Just take regular flour and mix in 1 1/2 teaspoons of baking powder and 1/4 teaspoon of salt for each cup of flour. Voila – self-rising flour.

It’s also a good idea to sift the flour before mixing in the beer. This helps you avoid a dense-biscuit situation. I faux-sift, and it turns out great. Instead of scooping the measuring cup, packing the flour in, leveling it, and then sifting it, I just spoon it into the cup bit by bit until it’s full and don’t pack it. I never understood packing the flour just to turn around and immediately unpack it by sifting (if you do understand and want to share in the comments, I would love to learn that). But the spoon method has never failed me, so that’s probably what I’m going to keep doing.

Without further ado – here’s an easy way to make your home smell delicious.

Ingredients

  • 1 stick salted butter (maybe – see note at the end)
  • 3 cups self-rising flour
  • 1 beer (I typically use some sort of wheat ale, but feel free to experiment with your favorite)

Steps

  1. Preheat oven to 375.
  2. Melt the butter. Brush the pan you’re baking in with part of it. Yes, I do this even with my non-stick pans so that the texture on the bottom of the bread comes out similar to the texture on the top. Set the rest of the butter aside.
  3. In a bowl, mix the flour and beer.
  4. Transfer the dough to the pan, leaving at least an inch at the top for it to rise.
  5. Pour the remaining butter over the top.
  6. Bake for 30-40 minutes or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean (albeit slightly buttered).

Most beer bread recipes will not call for this much butter, but I do it this way because 1) I love butter and 2) I can just eat the bread as is without wanting to add anything to it. I also like the almost-crunch it gives to the outside when you surround the loaf with it before baking. If you prefer a more traditional bread texture, though, simply use unsalted butter, reduce the amount to half a stick, and add the melted butter to the flour and beer when you mix them together, saving a little to brush over the top for browning purposes. In this case, you can also skip greasing the pan (assuming your pan is non-stick – otherwise definitely grease the pan).

One might argue that you truly only need half a stick of butter even if you do pour it over the top. It will still give you that nice crunch. My only concern is…why on earth would you deny yourself extra butter?

What is your favorite thing to bake?

I’m talking about all the delicious things that remind me of home this month.

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Day 14 – Sauces

My family has an interesting quirk in that, while so many of us grow many of our own vegetables (or trade with neighbors who do), we often resort to canned or jarred sauces. For example, most of the sauce for spaghetti we ate when I was growing up was premade and shelf-stable. Given how many other things we made from scratch, this gave me the idea that sauce was difficult or time-consuming to make.

I was so happy when I figured out I was mistaken.

These days, I make most of my own sauces. Some of them are quick; some of them are slow-cooked and 100% worth the time and effort.

A good tomato sauce can be either.

When I have the time, my favorite way to make a basic marinara is with a bunch of fresh tomatoes, peeled and roasted. Roast some onions, garlic, and a little red pepper. I add some seasonings (see below regarding my own preferences), and then slow-cook it on low for 3-4 hours. So good.

The quicker version is also no slouch, and it only takes about 10-15 minutes.

Ingredients:

  • Olive oil
  • As much garlic as you want
  • 1 yellow onion, chopped
  • 1 large (28 oz) can crushed tomatoes (the fire-roasted kind if they’re in stock)
  • Italian seasoning blend, to taste [you can buy this if you want, but if you have a good herb/spice collection, it’s just as easy to mix your own. Mine contains oregano, basil, thyme, parsley, and red pepper flakes.]
  • A couple of shakes of cayenne pepper (probably about 2 teaspoons), or to taste
  • Salt and pepper, to taste
  • Fresh basil or parsley to serve (optional)

Steps:

  1. Heat olive oil over medium heat.
  2. Saute the garlic and onion together until a little soft (about 3 minutes).
  3. Pour in the tomatoes and let it warm up to a simmer.
  4. Add seasonings. You can do what you want, but my advice is don’t be stingy. Mine has a good layer of green across the top of the sauce before I stir it in.
  5. Add cayenne to give it a little kick. If you’re feeding some sensitive mouths, I recommend starting with a little (1/2 teaspoon), stirring, simmering, and then testing to see if you want to add more. You can, of course, leave it out altogether if you want.
  6. Add salt and pepper to taste.
  7. After the tomatoes have been simmering with the spices for about 5 minutes, it is ready to serve. Use it to top pasta or any other time you need a tomato sauce. It’s a particularly delicious sauce to use when you’re making Eggs in Purgatory (lean toward more cayenne) or Shakshuka (add paprika and roasted red peppers).

What’s your favorite type of sauce to make?

I’m talking about food and family and all the related quirks this month.

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I’m so happy it’s Friday. I’ll be even happier when tomorrow is over, because it’s UNT Fall Preview Day, and we are in for a long, busy day. I’m going to have to move comfort food night to tomorrow and sleep in on Sunday.

But right now, it’s 8:00 on Friday night. I’m on my second glass of wine, after having watched a couple of Gilmore Girls eps and eaten a mountain of popcorn, air-popped and then lightly buttered and salted. Today was hectic, and tomorrow will be…whatever it will be…and I am without a working vehicle at the moment…but tonight I don’t have anywhere to be or anything pressing to do, and the wine is good. I’m having the perfect evening.

Here are some foodie things I enjoyed this week:

  • How To Read a Recipe (Joy the Baker) – I appreciate it any time someone breaks a process down that, on the surface, seems like a no-brainer. Turns out, very few things are no-brainers. I need my brain for most things, including reading a recipe. As always, Joy’s advice is spot on and useful and touches on things that are not immediately obvious to me, even as someone who has been successfully reading and using recipes for decades. And there are other things that are so immediately obvious to me that I do them without consciously thinking of it, and thus forget that other people haven’t learned that yet, which is good to keep in mind when writing my own recipes. 
  • My friend Shadan, leader and host of our cookbook club, has a cookbook coming out soon. If you want a sneak peak of the kind of delicious things you can expect when you buy it, check out her new blog!
  • The Comfort Food Diaries: My Quest for the Perfect Dish To Mend a Broken Heart by Emily Nunn – I am listening to the audio, but I think I would have enjoyed the print version more. In fact, I feel like that’s a theme with foodie books, especially if they have recipes. It’s also possible that this is a busy month full of many expected and also unexpected stressors, and thus the ability to focus that usually helps with reading via audio is just not there. Anyway, I am enjoying the book so far. She’s telling a lot of stories about how her friends and family rallied around her during a rough time and what she ate, so it’s right up my alley. 
  • Equal Exchange chocolates are among my favorites. Support small farmers and get great treats for Halloween. [This is not a paid advertisement; I just really, really love them.] Speaking of great things to support this weekend, our annual Empty Bowls fundraiser is tomorrow. For the price of a ticket, you get all the soup you can eat and get to pick out a handmade bowl crafted by a local artisan. And you can even buy tickets at the door. If you’re local (Denton), go to Harvest House tomorrow any time from 12p-2p, and tell them I wish I was there. 
  • And finally – I’m staying home all day Sunday to recuperate from this week. I’m going to make a big mess of pasta, maybe some soup. Maybe I’ll take a long walk to the library (the branch I go to is almost exactly two miles from me) to pick up the books I have on reserve. Or maybe I’ll just read what I have here and watch more episodes of The Bear. Or more Gilmore Girls, with their diner and their chef and their Friday night dinners. Even the fictional characters I love are obsessed with food.

I hope your weekend is restful and good, and I hope you eat something wonderful.

I’m talking about the food I love and its effect on my life this month.

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[Wine. I want wine.]

I didn’t grow up eating out a lot – my family is very much a part of the We-have-food-at-home crowd. When we did go out to eat, it was usually to the local steakhouse or to the place where MeMaw and Granddad (on Mom’s side) were regulars. While I was not about to complain about this occasional treat, there were elements present that would deter me today.

Most of the days we went out to any restaurant, there were so many people. They all seemed to be talking at once. It was so, so loud.

And the LINES.

We waited in line to get a table.

We waited in line for the salad bar (which we always were compelled to get).

We waited in line for the bathroom when we drank too much tea that was refilled before it was even halfway empty (which, admittedly, is great service).

We waited in line to pay.

So. Many. Lines.

Seeing how much Mom relished becoming an unapologetic homebody who spent a lot of time alone outside once she retired makes me wonder if we have some of the same sensory issues in common. I suspect this is the real reason we didn’t spend a lot of time at restaurants, particularly on Sundays when it was sure to be crowded and loud.

When I lived in various apartments during college, my roommates and I went out to eat a lot. It was convenient and still felt special to me. After a while, it just became a habit. I was having fun, and I learned to ignore the overstimulating environments. And by “ignore” I do mean “refuse to make the obvious connection between them and my increase in nervous gastro issues.”

The stay-at-home portion of the pandemic drastically changed my outlook on going out to eat. I really enjoyed not doing it and not having to explain why I didn’t want to hang out at a loud, busy place. I still supported local restaurants – most of the ones I frequent adjusted to offer some curbside or reliable delivery option – but I got to enjoy the delicious food and drink in the quiet of my own space. My favorite was the local cheese shop that delivered wine and cheese pairings. I spent a ridiculous amount of money on wine and cheese in 2020.

After everything started opening back up again, I just kept…not going out. People can choose whether they want to understand (or not, and thus hurt their own feelings by stubbornly refusing to employ the empathy that’s necessary to do so), but I’m not going back to that habitual torture.

I occasionally find myself in a busy restaurant with lots of chatter and intense, competing smells and loud music and all sorts of other stimuli, but it’s back to being a special-occasion situation like it was when I was a kid. I still love going out sometimes, but I much prefer a quiet place where I don’t have to raise my voice to have a conversation. I want good service that is attentive but not hovering (I tip well regardless, but I am over the top about it if they hit this sweet spot). I don’t want a lot of bright or flashing lights. Just…everybody calm down and have a relaxing time.

And please don’t make me stand in line.

I’m writing about culinary experiences that make me feel at home this month.

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If I had to choose a last meal, it would probably be fried eggs on top of some type of fried potatoes (and a strawberry shortcake sundae from Braum’s for dessert, but I digress). If I have these two ingredients at home, there is approximately an 86% chance that it is what I will make for dinner any given night or on Saturday morning. It is my favorite comfort food and – if I’m the one cooking – my favorite breakfast.

[If I’m not the one having to make it, Eggs Benedict is my breakfast of choice. Every time. In fact, I change my answer from above. If it’s my last meal, bring on the hollandaise.]

[But also I want hashbrowns on the side because I will be dragging them through that eggy goodness.]

[And I also require the perfect cup of coffee to go with it, but really, doesn’t that go without saying?]

It’s hard for me to pick a favorite breakfast food. I like most of them. I mean, I’m picky about scrambled eggs, but for the most part? There’s hardly anything on most breakfast menus that I just will not eat.

Eggs and potatoes are the stars of the show for just about any breakfast at the farm. It’s one of the meals that reminds me of home. Bacon, sausage, ham, or steak – toast, biscuits, or tortillas – these choices vary. But there are usually eggs and potatoes.

I don’t often make them for brunch, though. If I’m serving a crowd, I want things that stay good for a while and can stand to sit out a little. That is not the case with fried eggs. Brunch is usually waffles or a variety of pastries, savory scones or biscuits, bagels and assorted schmear. Maybe muffins (both sweet and savory). If I make anything egg-based, it’s typically quiche or frittata bites that I take out of the oven just as everyone is arriving.

Of all the parties to host, I enjoy hosting brunch the most. I think it’s because brunch feels like mine – like something that sets apart the home I’ve cultivated over the years. We didn’t often have company for the first meal of the day at the farm, and all my favorite brunch recipes come from times I’ve fed people in the various places I’ve lived since I’ve been in Denton.

I also think it’s one of the meals I am best at making. It’s certainly the one in which I’m most confident.

What is your favorite meal to host? What’s your signature dish when you do?

I’m writing about not only the food I grew up with but also the food that helped me grow as a cook this month.

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I would be remiss if I talked about our family holidays without mentioning the staple that still shows up every time we gather to celebrate. We may not have a pie or even a turkey, but we will have canned cranberry sauce.

I really, really love canned cranberry sauce. 

And not just because it taps into whatever nostalgia I feel about the holidays, although that’s certainly true, too. I genuinely love it. 

This “Ode to Canned Cranberry Sauce” by Malcolm Venable sums up my feelings perfectly. I will always – without fail – choose it over “real” or homemade cranberry sauce. If I’m coming over, don’t try to impress me with your fancy berries. Save yourself the trouble (or focus it on the potatoes or other sides), and just stick to the canned stuff. It is infinitely superior in my mind.

I know we’ve been talking about holidays in the last few posts, but I don’t even wait until the holidays to have it. I almost always have a can in my pantry – just in case the mood strikes – all year long. I did not even have to go to the store to stage the picture for this post (and yes, I did eat this whole display by myself. No regrets.).

When we are making the family holiday grocery list, I always advise doubling the cranberry sauce we think we’re going to need. Because otherwise, will anyone else get any? I am afraid I can’t promise that.

I eat it by itself.

I eat it with almost every bite of turkey or ham (or whatever main dish we have that year).

I eat it with dressing (or stuffing, if you prefer to call it that).

[Also, be prepared for me not to eat the stuffing if you actually stuffed it inside the animal you cooked. It’s not you, it’s me. And my picky judgment of your bad choices. So…I guess it’s a little bit you.]

I have also been known to spoon a dollop of whipped cream on top of some canned cranberry sauce and call it dessert. 

LOVE. IT.

I have had actual arguments over the merits of cranberry sauce with extended family members. I don’t know why I bothered. After all, if others present don’t like it – hey, more for me.

Couple the fact that the cranberry is my favorite berry with the consistent texture and perfect tang of the canned, gelled sauce – our love story was destiny. And over the years, I’ve discovered I’m a purist. I’ve tried putting it in things, like mini-trifles with goat cheese and pecans, and I even tried to use it in a cocktail once (one word – don’t). But the way I like it best is just by itself.

It’s marvelous.

I’m writing about all the food that reminds me of home this month.

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Besides pie, another treat that reminds me of holidays at home is homemade candy. My mom’s side of the family made candy from scratch every year. Aunt Gale liked making chocolate-covered cherries (meh – maybe another reason I thought I didn’t like cherries) and divinity (also meh and so, so sweet). As I grew up, I discovered that these candies weren’t gross, but they did require a slightly more sophisticated palate than I had as a child.

What did not require a mature palate? Chocolate.

The day after our big family gathering on Thanksgiving, everyone went home and we continued to graze on leftovers because there was no room for cooking in the kitchen. It was candy day. Well, for us it was putting-the-Christmas-decorations-up day. Mom ran the show in the kitchen. I always listened for the exasperated sighs that told me her hands were getting tired, though, because they also meant she was open to my help. So I helped make at least one of the candies each year.

We made (among the occasional others):

My favorite candy was (and still is) the Martha Washington. I do love coconut. And while we dipped all the ones that were coated in chocolate with milk chocolate, I prefer dark. Very dark. The darker, the better. Which is how I make them today if I’m making them at my house.

The millionaires are Mom’s favorite. Many recipes that you find will have you melt down caramel candies to make the nougat, and that’s fine. You can’t really mess it up. But if you want something truly delectable, make your own caramel as directed in the recipe I linked above. You won’t be sorry.

Well, you might be. Because you will probably burn your hand at least once, especially the first time you make caramel (or toffee flakes, which is what you get when you accidentally cook it a little past the soft ball stage. Sorry, not sorry). In fact, if you don’t burn your hand, drop the wooden spoon into the hot, boiling caramel (risking burning yourself again), and yell, “Shit!” at least twice during this process, are you even doing it right?

But if you make it past this stage with minimal injury, you will have the satisfaction of enjoying homemade caramel, one of the most delicious pleasures that exist in this life. And while many recipes, including my family’s, will advise you to simply add a bit of food-grade paraffin (canning aisle) to whatever meltable chocolate you have to make it smooth and shiny, you really should try tempering some good chocolate for the coating at least once.

[Aside: Expect cursing during this step, too, especially if even one molecule of water gets near the melting chocolate.]

We haven’t made candy in the last few years. It makes a lot, and it ties up the kitchen for a long time. As we’ve all gotten older, it just seems to add unnecessary angst to our time together.

I miss it, though. Even the stressful parts. It was one of my favorite holiday rituals.

I’m talking about food, family, nostalgia, and all sorts of related things this month.

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(Picture blurry because I was shaking with excitement. That’s the excuse I’m going with.)

Before every visit to the farm, we always have at least one conversation about what we will eat. It starts with, “What sounds good?” and my answer – “Anything but liver or pot pie (which is an abomination)” or “Whatever’s on sale.” Steak is often mentioned with a certain amount of glee. I typically throw some sort of dumpling talk and a general disdain for any pork besides bacon into the mix.

When a holiday is approaching, the conversation definitely includes dessert.

Growing up, holiday desserts were a big deal. Our house was the gathering place for Mom’s side of the family, and everyone had their favorites. It was the only course of the meal that had its own table.

Mom would make at least three pies. The two standards were topped with gorgeous meringues – one chocolate and one coconut. The last pie changed every year – lemon meringue, apple, peach, or some other type. Aunt Gale would usually bring cherry and/or pumpkin, and a pecan pie always managed to show up from somewhere. There were also many dozens of cookies and sometimes fresh apple cake (with pecans, but I liked it better without them. Still do.).

It’s been a few years since Mom made pies. I miss them, but with her memory issues, she has a hard time focusing on the recipe long enough to make it and that’s frustrating for her. When only the five of us are there these days, I imagine it’s also disheartening to go to all that trouble for several things that won’t get fully eaten.

Could I make a pie for our holiday meals? Yes, I could. But which one? We all have different favorites, and we’d never be able to choose. Also…I have a confession.

I don’t like meringue.

I know it’s beautiful and many people actually enjoy the taste. There’s nothing wrong with it…per se…and if I am served a piece of pie with meringue at someone’s house, I will gratefully eat it and go back for seconds. Because pie.

But it’s so…squishy? Spongey? One of my dastardly uncles called it calf slobber one time, and that was a little too close to what the texture seemed like to me for my comfort. *shudders*

Still, it doesn’t quite feel like a holiday without them, front and center, on a table full of other pies, cakes (oh gosh – Aunt Gale’s hummingbird cake), candy, quick breads with a ridiculous amount of pecans in them, fruit, etc. The table full of desserts meant ’tis the season and company’s coming.

What foods remind you of holidays?

I’m writing about foods that make me think of home this month.

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You know how, when you show appreciation for something or show someone how much you love it, you suddenly start getting a startling amount of those things as gifts? Now, this works out well when you hint to people who know how to pick out good coffee – like my sister – that it would be a stellar gift to receive. And it is pure delight, when you actually collect things like souvenir coffee mugs, to receive them when people return from their travels. But it also sometimes means you go from having one cute crystal pig wine stopper that you make the mistake of gushing over to receiving pig-themed items for years to come.

This is what happened when you told MeMaw Sharp your favorite dessert.

Almost every kid goes through an adventurous (relatively speaking) phase where they’re excited about trying new things. Every new thing they like is suddenly “the best” or “their favorite.”

I didn’t think I liked cherries when I was little. Aunt Gale’s cherry pie was very intense for a kid whose expectation when you said, “pie” was either chocolate or coconut cream. So when I tried MeMaw’s cherry cheesecake, I did not have high hopes. But it was delicious. I was over the moon. I immediately declared it the best thing I had ever eaten, in much the same way my sister praised the German chocolate cake (even though it had nuts in it, which we were generally opposed to as young girls).

Ah, the hyperbole of youth.

From that moment on, every time we had dinner at MeMaw’s house, the desserts were a choice between cherry cheesecake and German chocolate cake. You’re welcome, family. How any of us even like either of those things anymore is a mystery.

In fact, until recently, I hadn’t had a cherry cheesecake in years. Cherry is still not my favorite fruit pie, although I will no longer turn a slice down. Because pie. And really – because of the ice cream that I inevitably put on top of fruit pie.

But during my icebox pie phase that is still continuing from the summer, I tried to recreate MeMaw’s cherry cheesecake, and I was delighted to find that I still love it just as much as I did when I took that first bite.

My version doesn’t taste exactly like hers. I think she added lemon juice which I did not, and I definitely dosed mine with a healthy glug of Chairman’s Reserve. But it still hits my nostalgia receptor right on its synapse (don’t @ me if my olfactory memory science is off – you get the point).

Ingredients:

  • 1 premade graham cracker crust (or make your own like this)
  • 8 ounces cream cheese (or the lighter Neufchâtel works fine, too), softened
  • 1 cup powdered sugar
  • 1 cup heavy cream
  • 1-2 tablespoons vanilla
  • A shot of spiced rum (or two half shots, as you will not use it all at the same time)
  • Your favorite cherry pie filling (canned or you can also make your own)

Steps:

  1. In one bowl, beat together the cream cheese, powdered sugar, vanilla, and half the rum.
  2. In another bowl (or, if you don’t want to wash the beaters after step 1, a quart-sized mason jar with a tight lid), whip the cream until soft peaks form (alternatively, shake the daylights out of the jar for about four minutes to yield the same results).
  3. Fold the results of steps 1 and 2 together until fully mixed and pour into the prepared pie crust.
  4. Refrigerate or freeze until set (four-ish hours).
  5. Add the rest of the rum to the pie filling and spoon it over the top.
  6. Enjoy!

The pie pictured above was made with a premade crust and canned pie filling because I threw it together in the middle of the week between work and choir practice and topped it during a short break from writing later that night. But when you have the time, I highly recommend making both from scratch. The pie, while already delicious just as it is, will be infinitely better.

Also, if you’re on the fence between refrigerator or freezer, it basically comes down to time (freezer is faster) and texture. Do you want the first serving to have the consistency of thick pudding or ice cream? I am Team Ice Cream, so I put mine in the freezer to set, but kept it in the fridge after adding the cherries because they get real weird in the freezer. I have, however, combated this phenomenon before by stirring them right in with the cream cheese /whipped cream before pouring it into the crust, and then you can just keep it frozen. It neither looks nor tastes like MeMaw’s at that point, but it is still glorious.

What was your favorite childhood dessert?

I’m writing about all sorts of foods I grew up with this month.

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