• On hold

    My normal routines are on hold. Wayne died on Wednesday afternoon at home, in his bed, surrounded by his three children, Shannon, and some close friends. My hand on his chest, I felt him breathe for the last time.

    As you can probably imagine, I’m a bit off-kilter, discombobulated, jittery. After days of being on call for Shannon, storing a sleeping bag and pillow in the van, passing off the kids to Mr. Handsome, my sister-in-law, my mother, sleeping on Shannon’s sofa, sitting for hours on the floor of their bedroom, watching Wayne’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall, waiting, waiting, waiting… I feel raw.

    The funeral is Monday. After that, life will get back to normal, I suppose, though I’m not sure what that means. Maybe I’ll cook again. Maybe we’ll finish up the kids’ schooling…or maybe not. Maybe I’ll have the emotional wherewithal to sift through my experiences and organize them into coherent thoughts. Maybe I’ll fly sky-high with relief. Maybe I’ll crash. I don’t know.

    In the meantime, I’m shopping for funeral clothes with Shannon, accompanying her (with a couple other friends) to the funeral home, the graveside, the church. In between times, we hang out at her house, make plans, chit-chat, joke, cry. It’s a special time. Not easy, but special. I’m honored to be included.

  • For all things fruity

    Now, for that ice cream I mentioned.


    This recipe happens to also come from Julie. (I’m learning to trust her, can you tell?) She raved about the ice cream, both on her blog and on her tweets, but I kept pooh-poohing her in my head. I had already tried Deb’s buttermilk ice cream and hadn’t like it, so I figured this one would be the same, tangy and a bit “off.” But then Julie said this one little line—“You know that brown sugar-sour cream mixture generally reserved for dipping strawberries? It’s like that, only better”—and I knew I had to try it.


    And boy oh boy, is it ever good. So good, in fact, that I foresee this becoming my new standby. Much richer and more flavorful than good ol’ vanilla, it’s the perfect pairing for all things fruity. And I do not say that lightly. It really is perfect.


    It couldn’t be simpler: whisk the ingredients together and freeze. No eggs, no pre-cooking, no straining, no nothing.

    This ice cream is delicious straight from the mixer (some ice creams improve with a little aging in the freezer, but this one can be eaten straight up), so make it right before serving. If you do need to make it in advance, set it out on the counter to soften for about ten minutes before scooping.


    A note about my fancy-schmancy new electric ice cream maker. Did you notice it? Did your eyes pop? Did you turn green?


    I requested it for Mother’s Day. While I am not a fan of Mother’s Day, I am not one to knock a good opportunity to amass material riches. Months in advance, I informed the kids of my wish. I wrote it on the white board. I quizzed them. I prompted them to remind Papa.

    I was pretty much a royal pain in the butt.

    And you know what? Persistence pays! (No question as to where my kids get their annoying begging habits. They have been taught by a pro.) Several days before Mother’s Day, my package arrived in the mail. I was a good girl though, waiting till Sunday to take the maker for a spin. Since that day I have made the following: Peppermint Stick, Chocolate Peanut Butter, Milk Chocolate with Cacao Nibs, Strawberry Sour Cream, and Vietnamese Coffee.

    With this machine, it’s marvelously easy to turn out the ice cream deliciousness. You know what I like best? That the machine doesn’t talk while it churns. It doesn’t fuss and whine: My arm hurts, and Why don’t you do it yourself? and Do we have to make ice cream tonight? Instead, I simply plug in the little white box, pour the mix into the icy canister, and go do something else for half an hour. What a gift!

    Note Mr. Handsome’s I-am-beyond-irritated-with-you stance. Me messing with
    his bowl of yum-yums did not sit well with him.

    Sour Cream Ice Cream
    From Julie at Dinner with Julie

    Julie says she’ll be trying brown sugar next, but I don’t know about that. I’m so completely sold on the white sugar variety that I don’t think I could bring myself to ever deviate.

    2 cups full-fat sour cream
    1 cup half-and-half
    ½ cup heavy whipping cream
    ½ cup sugar
    1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
    ½ teaspoon vanilla
    pinch of salt

    Whisk everything together. Pour the mix into your ice cream maker and freeze. (I cover the top of the ice cream with some plastic wrap to help prevent against freezer burn.)


    About one year ago: Radishes for breakfast

  • Rhubarb! strawberries! sour cherries! Oh my!


    I’ve fallen in love with fruit crumbles. Baked fruit desserts are no stranger to me—I’ve made many a crisp, cobbler, and pandowdy—but it wasn’t until recently that I learned the art of the crumble. A crumble is just like a crisp, except there are no oats involved: mix together some flour, sugar, and baking powder, stir in some melted butter and there you have it—a crumbly crumble topping.


    Deb is the one to thank for the abundance of crumbles in this house (ever since I discovered crumbles, I’ve been exercising my newfound skills with alarming frequency), and while I’ve tried several different fruit combinations, my favorite is what I’ve dubbed Three Reds Fruit Crumble: sour cherries, strawberries, and rhubarb.


    All these fruits are in season at the same time in our little corner of the world; the rhubarb is on the way out, the strawberries are half-way over, and the cherries are just in.


    I don’t think there is a better way to celebrate the crimson windfall than to toss the fruits with lemon and sugar, top them with buttery, zesty crumbs, and bake them together until the whole mess is thick, bubbly, and golden brown on top.


    This crumble, my dears, is the reason these fruits are all in season at the same time. It’s positively providential, and served warm with sour cream ice cream (hang tight!) on top, and you might just think you’ve died and gone to heaven.


    Three Reds Fruit Crumble
    Adapted from Deb at Smitten Kitchen

    For the fruit filling:
    1 ½ cups rhubarb chunks (approximately 1-inch)
    2 cups sour cherries, washed and pitted
    2 cups sliced strawberries
    juice of one lemon
    ½ cup, plus 2 tablespoons, sugar
    3 tablespoons Therm Flo or cornstarch
    pinch of salt

    In a large bowl, combine the fruits with the lemon juice.

    In a small bowl, mix together the sugar, Therm Flo, and salt. Sprinkle over the fruit and toss to coat.

    Dump the fruit into a greased 9 x 13 pan (this is plenty big, so you could downsize a little if you wish). Top the fruit with the crumble mixture (see below) and bake at 375 degrees for 40-50 minutes, or until the fruits are bubbly thick and the crumble part is golden brown.

    Serve warm, with (sour cream) ice cream.

    For the crumble:
    1 1/3 cups flour
    3 tablespoons Demerara sugar
    3 tablespoons white sugar
    1 teaspoon baking powder
    zest from one lemon
    8 tablespoons butter, melted

    Combine the flour, sugars, baking powder, salt, and lemon zest. Add the melted butter and stir till thoroughly combined and crumbly. (This can be made ahead and refrigerated.)

    About one year ago: Fresh Strawberry Cream Pie. I made this the other day and the kids ate so much (my fault—I served them too much) that they nearly got sick.