So I’m in the middle of making enough applesauce to last a year (that’s a good thing) and my feet are killing me (that’s a bad thing) so I plunk down at the computer for just a sec to catch my breath (that’s a stupid thing) and then I spy a post for a two-minute peanut butter chocolate cake (that’s an exciting thing). (And now I’m going to stop with the parenthesis. That’s a smart thing.) Quick like, I (mostly) commit the recipe to memory, and then, all sneaky like so my husband who has been working even harder than me for even longer doesn’t see, I grab a bowl and some measuring spoons and set to. When the phone rings and my friend—the one who has spent her whole day putting up all the juice tomatoes I threw at her the night before—chirps, “Whatcha doin’,” I hiss into the phone real quiet like and say, “Making peanut butter chocolate cake,” and then I cringe while she screams in my ear, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING MAKING A PEANUT BUTTER CHOCOLATE CAKE ON A DAY WHEN YOU’RE MAKING APPLESAUCE? WHEN YOU MAKE APPLESAUCE YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO ANYTHING ELSE! DON’T YOU KNOW THAT?”

“But it’s two-minute peanut butter chocolate cake,” I whisper defensively. “I’m almost done right now!”

A measure, stir, and beep-beep-beep later, I am dumping the ramekin of cake onto a plate, and the kids and I are stuffing it into our mouths. My husband never even knew enough to bleet. Shazaam!

Later, after the mountains of clean-up (most of which my husband did while I took the kids to the pool for a little blow-off-steam time), I turned out another two-minute cake. I was rather tickled with my new skill, but there were drawbacks, too.

Like the little problem of texture. The cake is kind of spongy and boing-oing-oingy, like what I’d expect microwave baked goods to taste like and thus the reason I’ve never baked with microwaves before. Perhaps it needed less time in the zapper? Forty-five seconds? Thirty?

Also, the cake turned an unappetizing gray—perhaps due to the type of cocoa I used?

But the flavor was yummy, and the pockets of melty chocolate were pretty close to glorious. And then I realized that, hey, the cake is practically GOOD for me what with the egg, peanut butter, and only one tablespoon of brown sugar, whoa baby.

So this afternoon I made it again, but this time without the cocoa. The cake was much easier on the eye, but the texture was still spongy, and the insides were drier while the edges were gooey. Weird. But good? Maybe?

I’m still not sure what to think. Is this cake a good idea, or a super-duper bad one and I’m just too mired in applesauce to see clearly? Am I going all cliché on the world if I start nuking my desserts? Is it like getting giddy over jello? (No offense, jello lovers. Jello’s just not my thang.)

I can’t seem to get a grip on the matter, so I’m passing it off to you. Pretty please, go hang out in your kitchen for two minutes, make a cake, and then report back here so we can talk about this microwave baking phenomenon, will you? It’s all for the noble sake of science (and my insatiable curiosity).

Thank you, darlings. I’m much obliged.

Two-Minute Peanut Butter Chocolate Cake

Adapted from Dinner with Julie and Back To Her Roots



I’d like to try whole wheat flour next. Also, a much higher ratio of chocolate chips might be a good thing, like maybe ½ cup?

This is supposed to make one serving, but I think it should be divided between two small ramekins, or maybe even three.

1 egg

1 rounded tablespoon flour

1 tablespoons brown sugar1 tablespoon cocoa, optional

2 tablespoons peanut butter

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

2-4 tablespoons chocolate chips

Dump all ingredients into a cereal bowl and stir with a fork. Dump into a greased ramekin and “bake” (zap, nuke…) in the microwave for 30 to 60 seconds. Invert onto a plate and top with a scoop of ice cream or some whipped cream.

Eat and report back. Thanks.

My updated version, August 28, 2001

After multiple experiments and reading through your comments, I’ve come up with the perfect recipe. It is GOOD! The recipe is as follows: 2 tablespoons beaten egg, 2 tablespoons peanut butter, 1 tablespoon flour, 1 tablespoon brown sugar, 1/4 teaspoon baking powder, and 1/3 cup chocolate chips. Divide the batter between two small, greased ramekins and microwave on high for 30 seconds.

This same time, years previous: red raspberry ice cream, oven-roasted Roma tomatoes, earthy ponderations, part one

Not only did my last post bore you to tears, it may have killed you. Or at least left you speechless. For not a one of you made a peep.

Which confirms what I’ve feared all along: my unadorned life is woefully dull, boo-hoo.

But I’m not crying about that today. No, today there was no boredom to be found. Just lots of crazy.

This, my bored-to-tears dearies, is what crazy looks like.

Ain’t she purdy?

Crazy is four-and-a-half bushels of apples getting mushed into 81 quarts of sauce.

Crazy is four bushels of nectarines and three bushels of mini cantaloupe-sized peaches spread out all over the downstairs room.

Crazy is red raspberries getting picked and tomatoes getting ignored.

Crazy is my new best friend, cuckoo!

This same time, years previous: how to get your refrigerator clean in two hours, two morals

Otherwise known as The Day That I Carried My Camera Everywhere And Took Far Too Many Pictures.

It was more work than I expected, too, trying to keep track of everyone and hit the high points of their day. (Not “high points” as in rah-rah-yay, but “high points” as in it was a listable and photographicable moment.) (And there’s two new words for you, you’re welcome.)

You’ll notice that many of the pictures are taken in the kitchen, on the porch, etc, and not in the orchard picking the pears (off the dying tree) or at the chicken coop dumping the compost over the fence or in the garden digging potatoes because I would’ve made myself crazy-insane following the kids around while they did the chores. For most of what goes on around here, I station myself in the kitchen and monitor the flow of people in and out the doors as they go about executing their tasks. (It sounds almost gory when I say it that way, “executing their tasks.” I like that.)

I still missed bunches of stuff, like the kids waking up in the yard and riding their bikes and me on the phone and doing paperwork and giving orders, but this is entirely too long as is. And probably way too dull, as well. You’ll all be sobbing with boredom by the time you reach the end. I’m sorry.

On the other hand (I just can’t seem to stuff it with the preambles, can I?), this is the Ordinary that makes up my days. It’s my life as is, no bells and whistles, profound thoughts, or glamor included. And that’s gotta be worth something, I think. (At least I tell myself that, since it’s what I do all the freaking day long.)

Part One: The Pictures

Not in any particular order

Part Two: The Words

Also not in any particular order (and not necessarily to correspond with the pictures)

*Waking up in the yard where they had spent the night (just the older two) and then putting away all the bedding

*Finding matching shoes in the back hall (always a struggle)

*Hanging laundry

*A six mile round-trip bike ride to the post office for stamps, and also exercise—just the older two kids

*An imaginative game of the most engrossing variety that went on for hours.

*Checking the pears (and eating one!)

*Emptying the compost (many times over)

*Playing typing games on the computer

*Dish washing (and accidental glass breaking—lately we’ve had far too many of these—I better make a run to the thrift store or we’ll soon be eating off the floor)

*A drive to a local orchard for two bushels of Summer Rambo apples and a half bushel mix of Ginger Golds and Gala.

*Tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes—roasted tomato sauce (it’s my fav, make it) and stewed.

*Quiet reading time (he’s plowing through Little Men, his choice)

*Eating: oatmeal and canned peaches, leftover buttermilk donuts from a failed cake donut experiment (the picture is from the night before), peas, leftover mac and cheese, apples and peanut butter, pb&j sandwiches, the last drops of flat root beer, one fluffernutter graham cracker sandwich shared four ways, coffee, both hot and iced, green beans, corn, baked potatoes, apple crisp, vanilla ice cream, milk, etc (it takes a lot to fill our tanks)

*Major freak out thoughts about the three bushels of peaches and four bushels of nectarines that are due to hit my kitchen on Saturday

*Computer time, oh happy computer time

*Rest time (why does she have a toothbrush in her mouth?)

*A rest time treat of one stale and chewy candy cane, divided four ways

*Vacuuming up the little bits of styrofoam he mashed into the floor

*Mowing the lawn

*Intense negotiations revolving around the aforementioned lawn mowing

*digging potatoes for supper

*Wine, yes

*Setting the table

*Tomato picking (and picking and picking)

*Play dough creations proudly presented to the weary mater pickers

*Zonking out, finally

I’ve taken pictures in preparation for a post about my standard apple crisp recipe on three separate occasions, so it’s ironic that this time, the third time, the time when I finally get around to posting it, the pictures are so bad. It’s because the kids were taking them, the lighting was weird because the shades were drawn against the blinding sun, and I was getting sick of snapping pictures of every little thing that happened.

Plus, my hands were all gunked up with buttery crumbs so I couldn’t exactly wield a camera very well. (Some of the pixs are mine and I have no excuse except sloppiness. Oh well.)

But about the crisp. I dig all sorts of cobblers and crisps, but when it’s time for supper and I have fruit on the counter and don’t know what to do with it, I invariably resort to this recipe. It’s quick—just oats, brown sugar, flour, cinnamon, and butter, all rubbed together till crumbly—but it delivers all the oatmeal crunch and buttery-cinnamon lip-smacking flavor you could wish for.

We topped our apple crisp with a little vanilla ice cream left over from the weekend’s root beer floats, but usually we simply drown it in cold milk and then eat till we bloat.

Basic Fruit Crisp

This makes enough topping for four cups of chopped fruit. When doubling the recipe I don’t fully double the butter, using only 14 tablespoons instead of the called for 16, or thereabouts.

Also, I like to sneak more fruit into the pan, maybe five ample cups instead of four.

I used Gala apples for this crisp and they were delicious.

1 cup rolled oats

½ cup brown sugar, packed

½ cup flour

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 stick butter

4-5 cups prepared fruit (apples, peaches, nectarines, berries, etc)

Put the fruit into a greased 8×8-inch pan.

Dump the remaining ingredients into a bowl and rub them together with your fingers until incorporated and crumbly. Sprinkle the crumbs over the fruit.

Bake the crisp at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes, or until the fruit is bubbling and soft and the crumbs are a crunchy golden brown.

Serve warm, with ice cream or milk.

This same time, years previous: drilling for sauce, barley and beans with sausage and red wine, peach and/or nectarine tart, thoughts on breastfeeding