DAVEY CROCKER SUGAR COOKIE M&M BARS

“Today’s cookie inspiration came from the Business section of the ‘Minneapolis Star Tribune.’  It contained a story about a challenge that ‘Betty Crocker’ brand was having with dropping sales, even though it has a strong online presence.  Well, I say build upon your strengths, Ms. Crocker!  Why not diversify your persona?

The many faces of Betty Crocker, even the one that looks eerily similar to Téa Leoni.

That’s right, it’s time to invite a blogger to the party and introduce, ‘Davey Crocker.’

See, I already own the uniform.

Delicious sugar cookie flavor coupled with white chocolate chips and a delightful M&M crunch, these tasty bars have convinced me that I want to join Betty’s team.  Enjoy!”

17.5 ounce Package Betty Crocker Sugar Cookie Mix

½ cup Butter

1 Egg

½ cup M&Ms

1 cup White Chocolate Chips

½ cup M&Ms

Soften the butter.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix together the sugar cookie mix, butter, and egg.

Stir in ½ cup M&Ms.

Stir in White Chocolate Chips.

Grease just the bottom of a 9”x13” baking pan.

Press dough into the bottom of the pan.

Sprinkle the remaining ½ cup M&Ms onto the top of the dough and ever so gently press down.

Bake for 25 minutes or until lightly browned.

Place on wire rack to cool for 1 hour.

Cut into bars.

Makes about 24 bars.

Revised Source:  “Sugar Cookie M&M’s Bars” recipe on www.bettycrocker.com.

Today, my son Sam turned 9-years-old, so to help celebrate, here’s an All-Sam post.  Enjoy!

Part I – The Cookie (“Wait Till You’re Older” Meringues)

Yesterday, I asked Sam what type of cookie he would like me to make for his birthday.  His immediate answer was “meringues,” the cookie we always begin baking on New Year’s Eve.  Considering that you need to start baking them a day in advance (the “Wait Till Next Year” Meringues recipe is found on page 70 of my cookie cookbook, “Today is a Great Day for a Cookie,” which as always is available for free download at www.CookiesbyDave.com), I got started.  Plus, to honor Sam, I figured I would personalize it a tad and make it a little more vibrant and colorful than usual.  So replace the vanilla extract with peppermint extract and add a few drops of red food coloring.  There you have it, vibrant and colorful, just like my Sam.

Sam with his birthday morning meringue (more pink than I would have liked, but a nice try).

Part II – The Cake (backstory – Sam is an early riser and we often ask why he never sleeps in…)

Sam had asked for a football cake on his birthday.  Well, that’s not too hard, but I tend to be a slow cake baker and I need to concentrate, so when the house was quiet and everyone else was asleep, I got started.  Needless to say, since I am slow, I was up late, but at least I had a random “Star Trek – The Next Generation” rerun to keep me company (Counselor Troi was having some serious self-confidence issues).

Putting the finishing touches on the cake, at 1:15AM, I heard some footsteps.  There was Sam who greeted me with “Are you happy that I slept in on my birthday?”  Scary to find out that this is what he considers “sleeping in.”

Behold, the late night Football Cake (a little more “pointy” than I like, but nice try).

Part III – The Jokes (backstory – Nothing makes Sam prouder than when he thinks of a new joke.  Today, he was apparently thinking of “fish” and came up with two new entries for his comedy catalog.)

What’s a fish’s favorite place to be?  [At the “pool” table.]

Where does a fish keep his money?  [In the “river” bank.]

Our birthday boy, Sam.

Our Boys:  The Complete Set.

Getting ready for dinner, what did I see on the kitchen counter?  My 8-year-old son Sam’s socks.

This sock placement and the timing for dinner provided some real inspiration.  All I needed were a few more minutes and I could take a photo of the socks at the dinner table.  They would be sitting there all relaxed, enjoying a glass of wine, and working on their salad, as they wait for the soup and bread to arrive.  Then without warning, “Poof!  Gone!”  The socks had vanished!  Ah, the irony of life.  The one time I wanted stinky abandoned socks to hang around a bit longer in the kitchen and they decide to head off somewhere else.  What poor timing for those socks to grow feet.

No one ever said that life is fair, especially for sock photographers.

Let me start out tonight’s post by saying that I don’t like making fun of other people.  Really, in most cases I would much rather make fun of myself or silly circumstances.  As a result, please do not take offense to the following subject matter, since it was observed in a purely innocent light.  There, disclaimer provided.  Here we go…

We once attended a church, where our pastor provided some useful advice.  So say for instance, you see someone else in need or really struggling, but find yourself for whatever reason unable to help, it never hurts to say a prayer for that individual.  Turning troubles over to God.  Never bad advice.

Well, earlier tonight, I found myself in what I believed to be one of those instances.  Approaching an intersection, I saw a man holding a sign.  Anticipating that it was someone down on their luck and in need of help, I started the search for some money.  My wallet was empty and the spare change in the car was paltry.  This dilemma however became pointless, since I was approaching the intersection at such a speed and the light was such that I would not even have a chance to safely stop.  Remembering my former pastor’s advice, I remembered that I could at least say a prayer for the man.

Suddenly, it occurred to me.  The man was on the wrong side of the road for me to stop.  Plus, he was in an awkward location.  Prayer, there was little else I could do.

Getting closer, I looked at his cardboard sign, which much to my surprise did not read, “Please, help,” but instead said, “Beware of Feral Pigs.”  What?  Really, “Beware of Feral Pigs.”  Further befuddled, I was now unsure how to direct my prayer.  Toward the man?  Toward feral pigs?  Toward the victims of feral pigs?  I smiled.

Unaware that there was a feral pig problem so close to home and still confused, I Googled it.  Well, I could not find any references to feral pigs in my area, but apparently it’s a real problem.  There are actual human victims of feral pigs.  Yep, it turns out that these big wild hogs can cause deer like damage to a car.  Hum, I was unaware of that.

So here’s the take away…  It never hurts to pray.  It’s okay to smile.  Feral pigs are an actual problem.  Who knew?

Lately, the boys have been pretty spotty about making their beds. This morning, however, I was very pleased to see a properly made bed.  When what to my wondering eyes did appear?  A ripe set of dirty clothes on the floor.  Apparently, it is not a natural extension of tidiness to think, “Hey, I’m making my bed, but wouldn’t this room look swell, if I picked up these nasty smelling clothes and placed them in the hamper?”  Apparently not.  #DaddyRant

My poor poor pitiful soul.  As I played “Uno Attack!” (yes, the game actually comes with an exclamation point in its title) with my three boys, I caught myself thinking about way too much strategy.  Not really a strategy of winning (don’t get me wrong, I still wanted to win, but I didn’t want to cause too much strife or sadness in winning), but rather I found myself trying to craft a delicate balance.  Be the “Fun Maker.”  Don’t knock the same son away from victory too many times.  Note which son is getting close to tears, tears of genuine sadness, as if somehow success at Uno has become a value of net worth.  Try not to bully a son that is getting too arrogant, but still subtly knock him back down to Earth.  Don’t play favorites and try not to wind them all up too much.  Uno, I’m exhausted well before I ever get close to yelling the phrase.

Our beagle Kirby has grand desires to be a watchdog.  Every now and then during the day, he’ll run from window to window barking.  Usually, he suspects something sinister is taking place, such as a person walking down the road or a squirrel in the yard (oh, the horror!).

Well, earlier today, Kirby was under the impression that someone was walking along the trail in the public park to the rear of our house.  Jumping up on the porch’s couch to get a better view, Kirby with his hair raised howled to scare away the evil walker.  That’s at least my guess, because Kirby tends to cry wolf (or beagle), so for a while I just let him rant and rave.  Eventually, however, I tired of Kirby’s behavior and I began letting out an occasional half-hearted, “Kirby, stop it,” or “Kirby, no.”

Suddenly, Kirby’s behavior changed.  He jumped off the couch, ran into the living room, and began silently gazing at the fireplace’s glass enclosure.  Thanks, Kirby.  Just as I suspected, Santa was breaking into the house.

…because your soup deserves a cookie, too.

SPICY CHEESE BISCOTTI

“Forget the coffee and go all in with some chili!  Cheesy, biscuity, spicy, and biscottiy, it’s all good and perfect for the cold winter months.  Dunk it!  Bite it!  Enjoy!”

¼ cup Milk

2 teaspoons Olive Oil

3 Eggs

2¾ cups Flour

2 teaspoons Baking Powder

¾ teaspoon Salt

¼ teaspoon Ground Red Chipotle Pepper spice

¾ cup Grated Parmesan Cheese

¾ cup Shredded Cheddar Cheese

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix together the milk, olive oil, and eggs.

Mix in the flour, baking powder, salt, and ground Chipotle spice.

Mix in the parmesan and cheddar cheese.

Divide the dough in half and make into two logs, which are each 12 inches long and ½ inch thick.

Place the biscotti logs onto parchment paper lined baking sheets.

Bake for 25 minutes.

Cool the biscotti logs on wire racks for 10 minutes.

Cut each log diagonally into ½ inch wide slices.

Place slices on their sides.  Bake for an additional 10 minutes.

Flip the slices over and bake for a final 10 minutes.

Cool the slices completely on wire racks.

Makes about 12 biscotti.

Revised Source:  “Savory Two-Cheese Biscotti” recipe from Cooking Light’s “Way to Bake” cookbook.

Ah, the “Chocolatey Biscotti” surrounded by its mini chocolate chip fans.

CHOCOLATEY BISCOTTI

“For Christmas, I got a new baking cookbook and I tell you, the first recipe that I’ve tried is a winner.  Fulfilling its promise of chocolate goodness, the ‘Chocolatey Biscotti’ will make that morning cup of coffee sing with delight.  By the way, I like pronouncing it “Choco-lot-ay Biscott-ay,” it’s just more fun that way.  But any way you say it, enjoy!”

1 cup Sugar

2 Eggs

1 Egg White

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

1½ cups Flour

½ cup Baking Cocoa

½ teaspoon Baking Powder

½ teaspoon Baking Soda

½ teaspoon Salt

½ cup Mini Chocolate Chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix together the sugar, eggs, egg white, and vanilla extract.

Mix in the flour, baking cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

Stir in the mini chocolate chips.

Divide the dough in half and make into two logs, which are each 12 inches long and ½ inch thick.

Place the biscotti logs onto parchment paper lined baking sheets.

Bake for 20 minutes.

Cool the biscotti logs on wire racks for 10 minutes.

Cut each log diagonally into ½ inch wide slices.

Place slices on their sides.  Bake for an additional 8 minutes.

Flip the slices over and bake for a final 8 minutes.

Cool the slices completely on wire racks.

Makes about 17 biscotti.

Revised Source:  “Double-Chocolate Biscotti” recipe from Cooking Light’s “Way to Bake” cookbook.

Investigating a faulty door hinge on our shower, I noticed something new.  A tiny and apparently waterproof flower sticker on the shower’s door frame.

Was I really that unobservant?  Probably.  Has it been there for the entire two months, since we moved into our home?  Probably.  How much else is taking place around me in the shower, while I am completely unaware?  Probably nothing, relax.  Was it placed there by a member of my family?  Highly unlikely, since little flowers do not rank high in terms of décor, after Star Wars, superheroes, and sports.  Hum, it must be a relic of the past.  A forgotten bit of personality imprinted by the former owners or their kids.

This would not be the first time we were left with personality nuggets from former homeowners.  There was our house in Pennsylvania, where the owner’s teenage son, I believe his name was Brent.  Either that or Ted, Charlie, Bronson, or Clay.  Something like that.  Well, he decided it would be clever to write his name on the wall behind the bedroom door in Sharpee.  Knucklehead (I obviously do not keep in touch with Brent).  About five coats of primer later, I still could not cover up his tag.  Ugh.  Thanks, Brent.  In a move of cosmic payback, I always imagined that his voice would sound like that of Hermey the Elf, who wanted to be a dentist, on the Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer television Christmas special.  There, take that, Brent!  Or Rufus or Buster or Whatever-His-Name-Was.  Then there was our house in Kansas, where an owner left behind some old hubcaps in the attic of the garage.  Now, that was just being lazy.  Then there was our last house in western Minnesota, where at one point the kids must have had a fascination with colored plastic beads.  This fascination must have at one point spilled into the backyard.  And I mean they really did spill into the backyard.  They were everywhere.  Even after four years of picking up a few beads each time I mowed the law or racked leaves or picked up after the dog, some still remained.  I believe some hint of them will always remain in that backyard, sort of like the half-life of Uranium (although there was no proof that they were into collecting Uranium).

So what’s the point to all of this?  Well, good question.  I guess it’s this, we can never be sure how we’ll be remembered.  Is it the impression that you were into self-promoting nuisance style Sharpee delivered graffiti?  Is it the impression that you are a lazy dude, who leaves behind stuff and drives around without hubcaps?  Is it the impression that you had a bead obsession that was so large that your house could no longer contain it?  Is it the impression that you liked to shower surrounded by little tiny flower decals?  Whatever it is, be mindful of what you leave behind.  Like the sign in the National Parks reads, “Take only pictures.  Leave only footprints.”  Except, it probably wasn’t wise of me to take a picture with my phone, while standing in the shower (hey, another moral to the story).  Or perhaps the point is this, always be aware of your surroundings, especially when you are most vulnerable (nope, I definitely like the advice about never using the phone, while standing in the shower, better).