I would like to thank the Goodness Coffee House for bringing Chicago hot dogs to Willmar.  I would also like to thank my 10-year-old son Jacob for posing in my “Goofy Selfie of the Day.”  An appropriate tribute to the beauty of a Chicago dog and the joy of a son, who still participates in his dad’s silliness.  Like Father, like Son…  at least some of the time  🙂

The Chicago Dog…  Big enough for a man, tasty enough for a boy.

On second thought, participation or tolerance, sometimes it’s hard to tell.

One thing that I love about Thanksgiving is that nearly everything can be mixed up together on a plate.  It may sound gross, but somehow combining turkey, cranberries, and stuffing in a single bite is actually very tasty.  In honor of this holiday mix-up delight, today I am giving you a pre-Thanksgiving holiday cookie mix-up recipe, “Red Velvet Crinkle” cookies.  Straight from this month’s issue of Rachael Ray magazine, this combination of a Red Velvet cake and a chocolate crinkle cookie really works.  They turn out puffy and delightful, reminiscent of a cake, but still embracing its cookie texture.  Enjoy.

I skipped chilling the dough and I paid the price in underdeveloped cookie crinkle cracks.  Don’t be like Dave, chill your dough.

RED VELVET CRINKLES

1 cup Butter

¾ cup Sugar

¾ cup Brown Sugar

2 Eggs

2 tablespoons Buttermilk

1 tablespoon Red Food Coloring

1½ teaspoon Vanilla Extract

1½ teaspoon White Vinegar

2¾ cups Flour

¼ cup Cocoa Powder

2 teaspoon Baking Powder

½ teaspoon Baking Soda

1 teaspoon Salt

1 cup Powdered Sugar

Cream butter, sugar, and brown sugar.

Mix in eggs, one at a time.

Mix in buttermilk, red food coloring, vanilla extract, and white vinegar.  Set aside.

Combine flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

Gradually, mix “flour mixture” into “butter mixture.”

Cover and refrigerate for two hours.

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Roll tablespoon sized balls of dough in powdered sugar.

Place powdered sugar coated balls of dough onto parchment paper lined baking sheets.

Bake for 13 minutes or until cookies are puffed and crinkles begin to form.

Makes about 42 cookies.

Revised Source:  “Every Day with Rachael Ray” magazine.  December 2014 issue.  “Red Velvet Crinkle.”

Needless to say, the “Red Velvet Crinkle” cookies appear to have had a transformative impact on my 7-year-old (goofy and hamming it up) son, Sam.

We have not really had a good night sleep for a little over one year, oh by the way, that is also when we adopted Kirby the Beagle and said beagle began wedging his way into our bed at night.  So every night, we kind of curl around the pup, as he sleeps peacefully between us and his dog bed sits empty on the floor.  Waking up with a sore back and a crick in our necks, we accept our lot for the love of our little dog, who inexplicably takes up about half of the bed by himself.

Then a ray of hope, a sign of good things to come, as we walked upstairs for bed, Kirby inexplicably nudged the door to 5-year-old Ben’s bedroom open and curled up on his bed.  Kirby wanted to sleep on Ben’s bed.  Thank God, finally a good night sleep awaited us.

1:00 AM.  Ben enters our room to let us know that Kirby is sleeping on his bed.  We let him know that it is okay.  He heads back to bed.  All is well and good.  One disruption for the night, not bad, I’ll take it.

1:05 AM.  Ben reenters our room in tears and informs us that he no longer wants Kirby in his bed.  Paradise lost.  The hope of a good night rest shattered.  I returned Ben to bed and accepted defeat.  Scooping up Kirby, I placed him on our bed.

At least we got about two hours of quality rest, that’s something.  Not much, but something.

Tonight, Jacob’s socks made an appearance at homework time on the table next to a dictionary.  Yes, you heard that right, an actual dictionary in book form.  Hum, what’s the right word for this habit of placing dirty socks on the dining room table?  How about “disgusting (adjective) – arousing revulsion or strong indignation”?  Yep, that sounds about right.

Somehow the weather in Minnesota does not feel so bad, now.

So today, I went back to school.  Well, not really to school, but back to a campus to attend a seminar.  It was stepping onto the campus that I realized a lot of things had changed for me.  Now, when I walk around campus, I no longer look like a disheveled student, instead I look very much like a disheveled associate professor.  Hurrying past the Meat Processing Sciences Building (or some such title), I could see it in the eyes of the other obviously disheveled associate professors, as they were thinking, “Who is the new disheveled professor-like dude?”  Well, never fear.  This disheveled fellow is just heading through the cold wind to a seminar.  Carry on.

After sitting through a few sessions, I was feeling pretty good about myself.  It had been a good day, I had managed to take away one or two useful ideas.  My new standard for success.  Then I sat in on a research based session.  Very technical.  Very scientific.  Very much after lunch.  Very hard to stay awake.  I was fading fast.  Then one of those dot-scatter-graphs was used to make some point about suitable water conditions for an invasive weed or something like that and my mind began to race.  Could I beat the rush hour traffic, if I ducked out of the session now?  Would I miss anything other than a few more charts that I would really really have to try super hard to understand?  I had already gained some useful knowledge from the day.  My standards had been met.  Then I realized these were new standards for me.  When I was an actual student, I felt obligated to attend class.  It cost money.  The least I could do was sit through class, even if I did not understand a word being said or a concept being presented.  Maybe attendance alone could get me a “C.”  [Note:  based on my experiences, only a “C-“ was guaranteed for attendance alone.  Sort of the old “C- for Effort” creed.]  That was my old standard, my new one did not require 100% attendance.  Bailing was certainly an option.

Suddenly, waking me from my stat based slumber, there it was!  My opportunity!  “I think we will take questions at this time.”  Question and answer time, giddy-up, I was out of there.  Sadly, I had realized that although I look like an associate professor, I could never be one.  I have lost all tolerance for scatter graphs.

After a week of getting used to the snow, I have grown a little cocky.  Maybe this arrogance could be attributed to growing up in a cold climate.  Maybe it is something buried deep in my Scandinavian ancestry.  Most likely however it is just me getting used to the snow and as a result growing less cautious.  Today, this overconfidence bit me in the behind or rather came up quickly from behind.

I saw the boys off to school and figured I could run out quick to return some books to the library, before the heater repair man arrived.  Carrying my coffee in its open cup, I figured I would invite our dog Kirby on the adventure.  Why not share the joy of an errand with a fellow resident of the chilly North?  Kirby jumped into the car, I quickly exited the garage, raced down the driveway’s thirty feet, still traveling backwards swerved into the alley, and anticipated my landing on the street.  Instead, however, my car stopped with a soft thud.  No backup warning signal, no slam of impact, just sort of a reluctant stop.  I had landed in a snowdrift on the side of the alley.  The largest kind of snowdrift that could somehow fit under a car bumper, a worthy wintery adversary that had halted my progress before it began.  Alternating between drive and reverse, I could not break free.  I was caught in the snowdrift’s grip at the end of our driveway.  Freedom just feet away, I was stuck.

Hollywood’s interpretation of my winter adversary, the snow drift.

My arrogance had also prevented me from stocking my car with a shovel or salt, so I needed to shamefully walk the thirty feet back to our garage.  I was pitiful and unworthy of any winter warrior status.  Shoveling out my car and applying salt around the tires, my dog ran around the inside of the car, trying to figure out why our trip was so short and why I was so stupid.  With each step of my pup, he came close to stepping in my open coffee mug.  He was courting disaster, even as I tried to free us from winter’s embarrassing grasp.

Climbing back into the car, I gunned the engine.  Forward and then back, forward and then back.  The wheels spun.  A billow of shameful grey exhaust drifted across the road, a testament to my struggles and idiocy.  Finally, the tires took hold.  Salt sprayed behind the car and we lurched forward, free of our shameful prison.  Free of my wintery wake up call.

Several years back, I heard a NPR story about a man who figured out how to beat the “claw game” (http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5061866).  You know the claw game, where you try to pick up stuffed animals with a super weak claw that is incapable of grabbing anything.  Ever.  Well, this gentleman figured out that if you wait until the day they fill up the machine and then only go after the toys on the edge of the prize chute, you can come away with a prize.  This guy however took it to an extreme and became sort of the Robin Hood of the claw game and would hand out the stuffed animals that he collected to kids, who otherwise would just waste their quarters in vain.  The guy in the story was never heard from again, I suspect the claw game manufacturer clubbed him with a claw, because they certainly could never grab him with one.

Armed with the knowledge of how to defeat the claw game, every now and then I would indulge the kids in getting a toy under one condition, we had to go after a toy by the edge of the chute.  This strategy has yielded some very odd prizes.  When Jacob was 3½ we landed a Harry Truman stuffed doll (what child would not be thrilled to get a strange likeness of our 33^rd President?)…

Then there was the mildly creepy and very ugly “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” green gorilla.  I have tried many times to rid our house of the hideous green gorilla with large red lips and a hat to no avail…

4-year-old Ben once received a cute Gingerbread Man from the claw machine, which required a team effort including Jacob’s friend Raul, who happened to be walking through the grocery store with his mom, while we were feverishly trying to catch the Gingerbread Man.

All good fun, until I recently noticed something horrifying in the claw machine, a horse’s severed head.  Yep, it even has a “Godfather” label to ensure that you know it is a severed head, instead of just a cute head of a horse.  Plus, the horse’s head, complete with “red” on the bottom in case you wondered about the color of the inside of a horse’s neck, is on the farthest side of the machine.  Nearly impossible to retrieve.  To my credit, I restrained myself from trying to get the horse’s head, until I looked it up online and some versions of a stuffed “Godfather’s” horse’s head go for about $45!  It was worth a try.  A few bucks and turn it around on eBay for $40.  Ah, if only.

The horse’s head rests against the glass on the far right side

I enlisted my claw machine experts (my three sons) and we gave it a go.  Sadly, I must inform you that we failed and the severed horse’s head still rests in the Cub Foods lobby.  Yes, there is an evil that lurches among us and it goes by the name, “Claw Machine” (officially licensed “Godfather” severed horse’s head included).

Due to illness, weather, and whatever else, today’s Pre-K Sunday School class had only two students.  Given that we have four teachers, our Pre-K class had an astounding two-to-one teacher-to-student ratio.  Since we had the whole teaching thing more than covered, for the opening I chatted in the back of the room with another teacher.  This would have been fine, if not for the fact that our volume was drowning out the faith based discussions of the two young preschool kids.  This resulted in us receiving a “shhhhh” and a possible memo in my permanent Sunday School teacher personnel files.  Well, perhaps this is an opportunity for me to pray for a flunky Sunday School teacher comeback.  I can do it, I know I can lower my volume, and be respectful of others, especially little students, God willing, of course.

In honor of our impressive two-to-one Sunday School teacher to student ratio, here is a two-for-one cookie-recipe-to-blog-post ratio.

This playful take on Rice Krispie Treats is always a big hit with the kids around Thanksgiving.  My advice, do yourself a favor and make life easy by purchasing a can of frosting from the store, rather than making it yourself.  The kids won’t know the difference and this labor intensive treat will be made a little easier.

RICE KRISPIE TURKEYS

3 tablespoons Butter

1 package (10 ounces) Marshmallows

6 cups Rice Krispies

20 Oreos

1 can Chocolate Frosting, store bought

80 Candy Corns

On the stove, heat the butter over medium heat, until melted.

Add the marshmallows and melt.

Remove from heat and stir in Rice Krispies.

While the Rice Krispie mix is still warm, shape into 1½ inch balls.  I recommend coating your hands with spray cooking oil to make the job easier.

Separate the Oreos and place frosting on both sides (i.e. only one side of each newly liberated cookie half).

Place each Rice Krispie ball on one frosted cookie side and place the other frosted cookie on the rear of the ball to form the turkey’s tail feathers.

Insert three candy corn feathers into the tail portion of each Rice Krispie ball.

Using a small dab of frosting secure one candy corn to each turkey for their head.

Makes about 20 Rice Krispie Turkeys.

Revised Source:  Taste of Home’s “1999 Quick Cooking Annual Recipes.”  “Gobbler Goodies.”

These fluffy cookies, think the texture of a pumpkin cookie, bring home flavors reminiscent of a freshly baked apple crisp.  The raisins and apples provide nicely contrasting impacts with a chewiness and crunch.

APPLE CRISP COOKIES

½ cup Shortening

1 1/3 cups Brown Sugar

1/3 cup Apple Juice

2 cups Flour

1 teaspoon Baking Soda

1 teaspoon Cinnamon

1 teaspoon Cloves

1 teaspoon Nutmeg

½ teaspoon Salt

1 cup Apples, chopped

1 cup Raisins

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Cream shortening and brown sugar.

Mix in the apple juice.  Set aside.

Combine flour, baking soda, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and salt.

Gradually, mix “flour mixture” into “apple juice mixture.”

Stir in apples and raisin.

Drop by tablespoons onto parchment paper lined baking sheets.

Bake for 9 minutes or until lightly browned.

Makes about 24 cookies.

Revised Source:  allrecipes.com, “Apple and Spice Cookies.”

A two-for-one double issue, indeed.  Two pairs of socks on one dining room hutch, plus Jacob’s limited edition drawing of me.  What more could you ask for?

PS – For those of you who don’t know me, the drawing is somewhat conceptual given that I do not actually have legs shaped like hockey sticks.