Commodore's Cocktail Party Food Porn

Okay, so I admit that I completely suck at disciplining myself.  I should sit down every single day for at least ten minutes and talk about all the food I make everyday.  But I don't because I would rather waste a bunch of time on FB and drink a lot of wine.  True story.

So way back in July, we catered the Port Huron Yacht Club Commodore's Cocktail Party.  It's on Boat Night, the evening before the Port Huron to Mackinac Sailboat Race.  About 500 invitations go out, meaning 1,000 people could show up.  They never do, but we still do about 400+ people.  Please mind the word "Cocktail Party".  Appetizers.  Hors d'oeuvres.  Finger food.  Small bites.  Pain in the Ass.  Whatever you call them, we had to make a shit ton of them.  Don't get me wrong...appetizers are probably my favorite thing to make.  It just so happened to be the hottest week of the year when we had to make thousands of pieces of food for a lot of people.

This party was FUN!  We set up tables full of food downstairs in the club, and also upstairs where they are also making Hummers.  People wait outside in line to great the Rear Commodore, the Vice Commodore, and finally the Commodore.  People have a routine....bar for drinks, grab as much food as possible, and then head upstairs to get hummers.  By the time the line is gone, and everyone is inside, the downstairs is like a ghost town, while upstairs is PACKED.  It's a fight just to refill the food.

It reminded me of working on the farm.  You'd be bringing hay out to the horses in the pen.  One would lift it's head, and signal to the others in horse talk:  FOOOOOD!!!  And then the stampede ensued.  They were out of cocktail sauce upstairs.  I grabbed three big bowls and mixed some up.  Taking two stairs at a time, I arrive to find masses of people blocking my path.  I hold the bowls over my head.  Then I see it.  A head pops up, sees me and shouts "COCKTAIL SAUCE!".  Like the parting of the Red Sea, a path is cleared, and as I set the bowls down, the crowd attacks it like the horses and the hay.  I'm surprised no one got kicked or nipped at.

Don't mess with hungry buzzed people.  I had a smile on my face the whole time I was trying to refill the Sausage, Pretzel and Mustard tasting board.  It was forced as a red-faced gentleman started grabbing food off my tray before I could even get it onto the board for others.  He raised a sausage my way.  Nice.
All in all, it was a great party.  We spend 6 months planning for it, and in an hour and a half, the food is gone, the people are drunk, and I cannot wait to get home to bed.  It really doesn't sink in for a few days that it is over and done.

I ended up with heat exhaustion that night after the party.  I was hallucinating that "the trees won't let me get better" and then I started crying and pacing the floor.  My husband threatened "Hospital" so I lay down and let him cover me with Ice pacs, cold towels, and I think some frozen carrots.  My temp came down, and I was able to sleep a couple of hours at a time.  I finally got out of bed about 4pm the next day.

But here's the thing about being in the food business.  If they ask me to do it again next year, I will.  With bells on.  It's a sickness, and I don't mind having it.  My husband doesn't get it.  He should.  He's a musician.  With a lot of musical crap that they have to set up and take down every time they play out.  It's basically the same thing.  I guess it's the same with anything you are passionate about.  You'll do whatever it takes, time and time again, even if it kicks your ass, and kicks it hard.  Because you love it, and can't imagine doing anything else.

Honestly, I hope we do get asked to do this party again next year.  And I hope they want something completely different so I am challenged again.  It's a great time with a bunch of people I love to feed time and time again.

I love this pic my husband took....you can see the sweat on the shrimp tub.  And, of course, my dad's amazing smoked salmon.  It's rare we do a party without his salmon.  It is Just. That. Great.  And then there is this one:

The Man and His Fish.  I love this one.  So for now, I will put away my notes on the cocktail party and focus on the weddings and Christmas gigs we have coming up.  But I love to look through these pictures and think back on a very long, very gratifying day.

I hope you enjoyed the pics.  I'm getting hungry, how about you? 
~J

Market Daze

Saturdays are my favorite day of the week, and it's because I have to work.  No, really.  I am a baked goods vendor at the Vantage Point Flower/Farmer's Market in Port Huron, Michigan.  We wrapped up our second Saturday yesterday, and I have to say that I am beginning to adore meeting all the people that come out to shop, browse, or just take in the view of the St. Clair River.  My first love is definitely prepping and baking all week, trying to guess how much to make of every baked good, from Cranberry Walnut Bread to decorated sugar cookies in the shapes of Sailboats, Lighthouses, and Poppies.  Breads seem to be the hit right now, even though we have 3 to 4 vendors who sell bread each week.  Thankfully, we all sell a different  variety, and even if we didn't the competition helps us all.  I also sell Pasties.  Liz, the Market Master, e-mailed me over the winter and asked if I made them.  I think at that point I had made them once, just trying to see what the big deal was.  I mean, in Michigan, if you barely mention "Pasty", you get heads turning, people sucking in their breath and questions of who, where, when, how much, and "Are they real U.P. Pasties?".  I told Liz I would make some and see how it went.  First week of market, a beautiful sunny day, I sold out by Noon.  I was speechless.  I knew that people would be excited, but selling out?  So when yesterday's market came around, I was hoping for the same thing.  Little did I know I'd learn a lesson and get even more pumped about making a pasty.

As with most markets, people are "just looking".  I'm cool with that because I am a learning this ability.  I am currently in therapy with my own self to realize it is perfectly acceptable to enter a store and leave without purchasing anything.  This might be one of the hardest things I have ever done since quitting smoking, and I actually cried and broke things during the first month of being smoke-free.  Thank goodness there haven't been any "quitting lookers" so far, since I have glass dishes full of granola that would be really fun to shatter on the cement in front of my tent if that person was craving.

A group of lookers was passing by, checking out Mindy's wares.  Mindy is my market neighbor who has a herd of Bison, and sells their meat in various forms.  It is simply amazing meat.  More amazing is Mindy's talent for carving Bison bones.  I didn't take pics of these, but next week I will and I will definitely share and get more of Mindy's story.  Back to the lookers....one broke out of the pack and wandered over to my table.  She immediately turned to an older gentleman and said "Dad, she's got Pasties!".  The gentleman carefully made his way over, left ear hearing aid caught in my quick glance.  He said to me "My mother used to make 500 Pasties in half a day for the concession stand we worked."  My mouth dropped open.  "500. Half a day?", I said.  "Yup, and she charged 15 cents each.  One time she made some smaller ones and charged 10 cents.  Folks like the bigger ones, though."  His large grin was infectious, and his tale was reeling me in.  His right eye watered from the cold, or the memories, but I couldn't tell which.  He went on to tell me he liked being in the back, peeling potatoes, making as many as 5 or more deliveries of Pasties a day to the concession stand.  He winked as he mentioned we would drop off the pasties and then sneak into the carnival.  His son made his way over, letting me know they were from Marquette, so their pasties were "The Original".  The gentleman told me his son still makes them today, and I blushed with jealousy, and then hoped they wouldn't buy my "down state" pasty made by a German mutt.  I told the gentleman I envied the legacy the family had, and he smiled wide and puffed out his chest a bit.  He realized the group had gotten a bit ahead in the market, so we bid farewell, and I expressed by gratitude for meeting him and his story.  He winked and walked away slowly, thinking, I'm sure, of all those pasties his mother made in a different time and place.  I can guarantee I will think of him and of his mother every time I prep my pasties.  How could I not?  I can guarantee I will remember the 50-ish gentleman speed walker with the much too short shorts who makes his way by all of our tents.  Bonus!
~J

Liar, Liar...Food on Fire

Yeah, so.....I know I posted a promise to blog, but I lied.  I'm sorry, and I hope you can forgive me.  I honestly don't know how people can blog every single day.  I guess I could throw some crap down and post it, and I'm not saying that is what everyone does, but if I don't have something I think is really worth telling, then I really don't think you want to waste your time reading it.  Agreed?  So, am I forgiven?  Good.  Now that we have that out of the way, I promise to blog tomorrow.
~J

Promise

I promise to blog about the Spatchcocked Chicken we are making tonight on the grill.  I do not have it in me tonight.  Need to get outside and enjoy the sunshine while it wants to grace us.  Come back tomorrow and check it out, please!
~J

Because I Said So

My 93 year old Grandmother, lovingly called Ma, gets frustrated with me when I tell her "Everybody is different".  I think she wants me to agree with her that so-and-so shouldn't be doing this-and -that, and so-and-so's husband doesn't like this, isn't he crazy?  I usually try to sit on the fence, because deep down, I hate confrontation.  I don't like arguments, and raised voices chill my blood and make my stomach sick.  Staying neutral, like some countries, has worked for me in most instances.  I have my beliefs and morals, but I don't always feel it necessary to make them known.  Go ahead and be a moron with unrealistic beliefs and notions.  I will just sit here and smile.  Good for you.  You go.  Away.
Fence Sitter I am not when it comes to food.  How can someone not like Onions, I ask, appalled completely.  And too much garlic...WHAT?!?!  Stop the press, hold all my calls and someone get that cat out of here.  I don't think I am actually physically able to cook without onions and garlic.  And lots of them.  My husband hasn't said anything about the abundance of onions and garlic so far, and even if he did, I would most likely correct him.  See, that non-confrontational person actually likes to dabble in a little argument here and there with the husband.  It must be a married thing.  No raised voices, just a little nag and rib here and there.  No harm done and no upset stomach. 
So on that note, I am making a little soup I call "Buncha".  Buncha this, Buncha that and Vi-ola...dinner.  It is a little bit of everything my husband likes....green beans, hot Italian sausage, potatoes, pasta.  And then a lotta onions and garlic.  He'll like it.  Or else.

Buncha Soup

2 Tbs. butter
1 Tbs. olive oil
1 rib celery, chopped*
1 medium carrot, chopped*
1/2 # extra small mixed new potatoes
3 cloves garlic, mashed with 1/2 tsp. salt to make a paste
handful green beans cleaned and cut into 1" pieces
1 medium red or yellow onion, chopped*
1 tsp. each dried rosemary and thyme
13 twists of a pepper grinder
1 Hot Italian Sausage, casing removed
1/3 cup Orzo pasta
32 oz. homemade or *gasp* store bought beef broth
1 1/2 cups h2o
Splash V8 juice or 1 chopped tomato - optional

*I leave my carrot unpeeled...I like the rustic look.  I also take the ends I chop off of any carrots and celery, and the skins of the onions, and put them in a bag in the freezer labeled "For Stock".  When I make any kind of stock, this gets thrown in.

Add butter and oil to a 6 qt. heavy pot.  Add celery, carrot, onion, potato, and green beans to pot.  Saute for 5 minutes.  Add garlic, herbs and pepper.  Mush up hot Italian sausage with your fingers and add to pot, breaking up more with wooden spoon as you combine everything together.  Cook for 2 minutes, stirring.  Add Orzo pasta, stir, and let toast up and soak up flavors 1 minute.  Cook 2 more minutes, moving it around.  Add beef broth and water and over medium heat, bring to just a boil.  Reduce heat and let simmer until potatoes are soft and flavor is to your likey (add V8 or tomatoes now if you are using). Stir occasionally so pasta doesn't stick to bottom of pot. Serves one hungry man with a little for lunch another day.
Enjoy!
J~

Winter Can Kiss Off

I love hearty, winter comfort food.  So many avenues to take and so many wonderful recipes to try.  But I am completely done with winter.  We were so close to having all the snow gone when that bitch Mother Nature tossed us a nice sloppy mix of rain and snow last Saturday.  Then, out of nowhere, it was like a blizzard.  Blowing and snowing and....ACCUMULATING!  AGH!  We almost had house guests for the night since the roads were crap by 7 pm.  I am a self proclaimed lover of snow, and usually this would not phase me, but I just cannot take it anymore.  So Winter, now hear this:  I am making my Chicken Stock for the last time this season.  I will use some to make winter-ish dishes this week, and freeze the rest.  I will make delicious sourdough bread and enjoy sopping up those hearty dishes with it.  Then, I will be done with this cold crap.  When the stock runs out....so does your time around these parts, you hear me?  Maybe if everyone makes this stock and bread this week, stands at his or her stove with soup spoon held high, and rejects any and all evil of Winter, Old Man Winter will take the hint a move on outta here.  Can't hurt to try, right?  So let's get to it.

Jules' Chicken Stock

3 large Carrots chopped in half
3 ribs Celery chopped in half
2 large Red Onions chopped in quarters (use skin and all!)
4 garlic cloves peeled and lightly smushed
2 Tbs. kosher salt
1 5 1/2 # to 6# Roaster Chicken cut into 7 pieces (2- wings, 2 leg quarters, back bone, 2 breasts)
5 1/2 Qts. cold H2O
Any scraps of vegetables from freezer, chicken pieces, necks etc.

Place all ingredients in a large soup pot.  Over medium-low heat, slowly bring to just a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 2-3 hours.  Skim often at start to remove all the fluffy sludgy stuff that rises to the top.  Use cheesecloth to strain solids from stock.  I remove the meat from the bones after cooking and give it to the dogs....all the good stuff is now in the stock, but the dogs still love it.

Sourdough Bread
Recipe courtesy of Cooking Club of America, with a few minor changes courtesy of Me.

3 1/2 c. lukewarm water
4 tsp. active dry yeast
4 tsp. kosher salt
7 1/4 c. all purpose flour

Combine water, yeast and salt in large bowl.  With spoon, stir in flour.  Dough should be a bit wet.  Place dough in 5-qt. lidded container;  cover with lid (do not snap air tight).  Let rise at room temperature for 2 hours.  Refrigerate overnight and up to 14 days.

Next day:
Remove 1/4 of the dough.  (Use dough any time within 14 days, repeating these instructions if you like)  Form it into long loaf and place on cornmeal coated peel (or flipped over cookie sheet)  Let come to room temp and then rise, total of 2 hours.  With sharp knife, make several slashes on top of dough.  Oven should be at 400 degrees with pizza stone in oven.  Transfer loaf to pizza stone in oven and bake 30 minutes.  Remove and let cool completely.  Listen.......it will "sing" as it cools.
Enjoy!
J~ 

Small Is The New Big

I am so glad the "Super Size" fad has gone on its merry way.  Like we Americans need more of anything, especially food.  Small is the Wave of the Future.  People get all goofballs over mini things.  Just look at how many people have those ultra-tiny, yappy dogs.  Chickens have bigger legs than those little dogs.  Cell phones are super small.  Then again, I have man-hands, so they seem very small to me.  And how about those little humans they call babies?  People love 'em.  They keep having oodles and oodles of them, and everyone gets so excited over the "Little Man" or "Mini Mama".  I am all about little.  Little Food, that is.  I adore doing appetizer parties, and people go nuts over mini re-creations of their favorite snacks, fast food, comfort food, and desserts.  Just about any food can be minimized with great success.  Not all recipes were made to be multiplied, and some dishes don't come out quite right when made for the masses.  That is why appetizers, or hor's d'oeuvres if you like, are just so perfect for parties and gatherings.  They don't have to be fussy, yet they can be.  They don't have to be difficult, but they can also be intricate enough to cause chefs to lose their meatballs.  My parents went to a wedding in New York, and came back with pictures of the food for me.  Yes, they know their daughter very well.  Anyhow, my dad was mesmerized by the "Mini Hamburgers" that they served.  Sliders, these were not.  They were actual hamburgers, with mini buns, mini tomato slices, baby squares of cheese, and of course, the meat patties that were the size of silver dollars.  Guests caught their breath, cooed, and had to stop themselves from pinching the little burgers.  They were little miracles.

Small is just as much work as big.  If not more.  Mini Filet Mignon?  Not on my menu.  Steak Au Poivre Crostini?  You bet.  Same cut of meat, yet made differently, and more to my liking.  I've seen these mini filet in magazines and books, and while they are very cool, they would give me the shakes, and I already have too many sleepless nights just doing the little catering gigs that we do.  I like to keep it simple.  Think of your favorite dish, and then picture it small.  Cute, huh?  Right now, I am thinking of my favorite summer dishes and picturing them as appetizers.  Grilled Pizzas.  Caprese Salad (Small bamboo skewers of grape tomato, fresh mozzarella and basil that have been marinated).  German Potato Salad (Potato Chunk, piece of Bacon, bite of onion, that were all cooked in the German potato salad manner, then stacked)  Pasta Salad (Cheese Tortellini, Kalamata olive and tomato, skewered).  Burgers (See above, but make the meat patties with lamb, pork, buffalo, beef, or whatever is your fancy.  So many dishes, so many possibilities. 

Don't get me started on desserts.  I just made my husband some Phyllo Cannoli.  I made them normal dessert size, but then I realized I could make mini phyllo cups and pipe the cannoli filling into them. Dust with crushed pistachios and, Voila!  Mini Cannoli.  Without frying dough!  My kinda dessert.  I know it's been done before, no news there, but it was fun just twisting things around to make them work for me.  Hand held, two bite options are the way to go.  People move too fast, and they need convenience now more than ever.  I cannot tell you how many parties we have coming up that are all "Grab and Go" appetizers and desserts.  Even (gasp!) Weddings.  No sit-down, be-served parties for these youngsters.  One of the weddings doesn't even have seating!  The bride wants everyone to "have" to mingle.  Appetizers for savory food, and Mini Wedding Cakes for everyone to take home! (*Shakes and Sleepless nights begin*)  Yikes.  But the food will be so cute you'll just want to pinch it.  Coo.
J~

Pics and recipes of Appetizers to come very soon.....Tasting Party March 26th.  Fun Stuff to post!  J~

Lean Mean Fighting (Bread) Machine

I started exercising again.  That sounds so weird to me, because there was a time when exercise was just a way of life for me.  Part of every single day.  Walking was my favorite, because I could disconnect from everything, and just focus on the things I encountered on my walk.  I used to walk year round, which in Michigan, is just plain crazy.  I thought of it as a challenge, when I had to trudge through a foot of snow, or inches of slush and gush.  I loved every aspect of walking.  I still do, I think.  To be honest, I think the last time I really walked was last summer.  I've tried since to take the two, wild, maniac animals we call "dogs" for a "walk", but I end up very confused, and disoriented due to the spinning around that is involved.  I had a Rottweiler named Kaeyne a while back, and she was the ultimate walking partner.  Always moving forward, didn't have to sniff every tree or rock or stick.  She just wanted to walk, and was perfectly content with whatever direction we went.  I have yet to walk a dog like her.  I see some of that in the shepherd we have, but I would have to walk him alone.  The shorthair, I think, is part devil, and likes to instigate bad things on our walks.  I believe the shorthair has had multiple devil conversations with the shepherd, so I don't know if there is any chance of bringing him back from the dark side.  I suppose I could walk alone, but the guilt and puppy dog eyes would kill me.  Another thing that may kill me is this exercising I spoke of.  Walking was easy on me.  Kettle bell, and Denise Austin, however, are not.  I feel amazing immediately afterwards, and I don't feel so bad when I eat an entire loaf a bread, knowing that I will "Look Like A Million Bucks" according to perky Denise.  But I am so so sore, I almost can't stand it.  But, I can't help making bread every other day.  I found an amazing recipe that I tweaked, and I love the flavor.  Yet, I also want to be lean and in really good  shape.  I am hoping I can do both, because giving one up will make me feel guilty.  I cannot be true to my Bread Chick roots without making bread every chance I get.  I would also insult myself if I didn't eat a large amount of that bread.  Well, at least I have started exercising again, and know I still love it, even though I ache like crazy.  I took today off to let my muscles relax, and plan on a good workout tomorrow.  And now, if you'll excuse me, I have bread to take out of the oven.


http://www.cookingclub.com/recipes/articletype/articleview/articleid/8681/master-artisan-bread-recipe

This dough is amazing and fool proof.  Make sure your container is large enough, because the dough is alive and needs room to grow.  I love the Cooking Club of America.  Great Recipes.  I've been a member since 1990's and get a lot of good recipes from their members.  Try this one.  You will love it!
J~

He Hates Their Products, But The Food Is Killer

I was on my way out the door for work when I saw a note on the kitchen table.  It wasn't addressed to me, and I think it was just ranting randomly.  In my husbands very neat and commanding handwriting was this statement:  My Goddamn Briefcase Broke!  I HATE CHINA!!!  Now before we get all upset over this statement, my husband does not actually hate China, or it's wonderful people.  He heavily dislikes the way in which they tend to assemble 90% of all of the products we buy, and the shoddy materials used.  The briefcase has housed his music and notes as long as I can remember, and it will be hard to find a replacement.  Especially one NOT made in China.  While he has heated feelings about products made there, he has no qualms whatsoever about his love of their cuisine.  Or should I say, the Americanized version of their cuisine.  Chicken Fried Rice is his absolute favorite, and those little dunkable beauties called Egg Rolls pull up in 2nd place.  I haven't made him egg rolls since we lived in our apartment, so I figured it was time.  He made a meal out of them, and absolutely loved the dipping sauce I threw together.  They really aren't that much work to put together, and the only thing I dislike about this Chinese product, is that my house smells like fried food for days.   So, here is the recipe, and I suggest lighting some candles or burning some incense when you are done cooking.

Egg Rolls with Spicy Dipping Sauce

2 Tbs. Peanut Oil (Olive Oil works too)
1/3 # ground pork
1/3 # hot Italian sausage
1/3 # ground beef
1/2 tsp. dried ginger
2 cloves garlic, mashed
1 large carrot, grated
2 cups shredded napa cabbage
2 cups bean sprouts
2 green onions, chopped
1 1/2 Tbs. flour
1 Tbs. water
1 Tbs. soy sauce
2 Tbs. oyster sauce
Egg Roll Wraps

In a large skillet, heat oil over med-high heat.  Cook meats, ginger and garlic until meat is browned.  Add carrot, cabbage, bean sprouts and green onions.  Cook 5 minutes, stirring.  Combine flour, water and soy sauce.  Add to pan, and cook until thickened.  Remove from heat and stir in oyster sauce. Let cool.  Have a corner of an egg roll wrap pointed at you.  place 1/4 cup filling diagonally on wrap.  Fold up corner pointed at you.  Fold in each side.  moisten  edges of last flap.  roll up egg roll and let rest on sealed edge.  Heat canola oil to 375 degrees.  Fry egg rolls, flipping once until golden.  Remove from oil and let drain on paper towels.  Serve with dipping Sauce.

Spicy Dipping Sauce

1/4 cup chicken broth
2 Tbs. sesame oil
1 Tbs. fish sauce
1 Tbs. Rice vinegar or champagne vinegar
1/2 jalapeno chopped
1 green onion chopped

Mix all ingredients together and serve with egg rolls.
Enjoy!
J~

If You Can't Laugh At Yourself, You Are Screwed

I was thinking this morning about things I've made that make me cringe.  I think we all have done it. A group of people is coming over, so you make that new recipe that you have never made before.  It doesn't work out, but you have to serve it since they are all waiting and there is nothing else to eat.  Or the time a friend is bringing over a new beau, and you make the most amazing Rack of Lamb.  When they walk in, you catch your breath as you read his "PETA" hat, and sweatshirt that says "If animals could talk, we would all be vegetarians".  The only thing to do in these situations, I think, is to laugh.  I always get a good chuckle out of things I do.  I am a complete klutz.  I trip over things that aren't there, and let's not get started about dropping things.  My husband calls it "The Ming Vase Syndrome", and I am completely sick with it.  I also have trouble sometimes with my judgement calls.  Let's take, for instance, the time I thought 4 glasses of Pinot Grigio after a catering gig was a good idea.  I found out the next day it wasn't.  Not a big deal, except I had my 16 year old nieces' Birthday Cake to put together for a party at 4pm.  And not just any cake.  She wanted a Peacock cake.  Right.  Did I mention I had left the design part of the cake for that morning since I was so busy with the catering gig from the night before?  Are you seeing my lack of judgement here?  So, hung over, I try to attack this peacock thing with all my might.  In my head, it was gorgeous, but I think I was still running on Pinot Grigio fumes, because what came out was this:

This is the part I cringe at.  My sweet niece declared she loved it, God help her, and I think she actually did, but peacock it is not.  Damn you Wine!  Not one of my finer moments.  To add insult to injury, she posted this on facebook, and a friend of hers described it as alien ships attacking a monster.  I agreed.  And then I laughed.

J~

The Chocolate Cake Heist

My husband and I used to live in a 300 sq. ft. 2nd floor apartment.  Very close quarters, but I have a lot of fond memories of our old sardine can.  I actually liked the kitchen set-up, even though I could open the fridge while standing at the sink and touch the stove at the same time.  When baking in mass, I would have cooking racks everywhere I could.  On top of the fridge, microwave, cabinets, closed garbage can, open drawers....etc.  It all worked, so when my husband's step-mother, Mary, asked me to make Big Chris' 50th Birthday Cake, I said absolutely!  It had to be chocolate, so I made my ultimate favorite recipe.  The cake is so dark it is basically black, and the espresso in it adds an intense layer of flavor.  I got up early the day of the birthday party and went to it, carefully mixing, pouring, baking, waiting.  I flipped  the cakes from the pans and set them on cooling racks around the kitchen. I opened the tiny kitchen window a crack for a cool breeze.  My father-in-law was the ultimate jokester/prankster, so I wanted to do something funny/crazy for the top of his cake.  Chris and I went to Create-a-Cake and started searching.  Chris immediately picked up a plastic "Ken" doll looking toy.  However, this doll had only a speedo on, and when set atop a cake, it is in the lounge position.  Chris exclaimed "This is it!".  So you see, the apple does not fall far from the tree.  We bought Ken, and went happily on our way.  We pulled into the apartment parking lot and started up the steep back stairs to our apartment.  I looked up towards our place, and noticed a squirrel jumping from our window ledge onto the roof.  My heart sank.  I don't know how I knew, but I did.  The squirrel had been in our apartment.  I said over my shoulder to Chris, "I think that squirrel was in our apartment....I hope he didn't get the cakes."  Chris gave me a "psshh" and we continued up.  When I opened the door, my fear was confirmed.  There were chocolate cake remnants all over the kitchen.  The floor was littered with pieces and crumbs, and one 1/2 of a cake layer was in the sink.  I looked to the kitchen window and noticed the little bastards had ripped the screen to enter unlawfully.  Then, the worst was realized.  My darling little pie bird that adorned my window sill had been assaulted.  Her entire little ceramic body was covered with chocolaty paw prints.  She was never the same.  I then lost my mind, and began screaming out the kitchen window.  I called the squirrels names I will not repeat here, but needless to say, I couldn't look the neighbors in the eye afterwards.  Chris and I then began cleaning up the mess, and I then began baking all over again.  In the end, the cake was a hit, Ken was the talk of the town, and we all had a good laugh about the cake eating squirrels.  I still often wonder as I pass a squirrel in a tree or on a wire if he was the one.  And when they chirp at me as I walk, I can't help but want to give them the finger.
J~

Bad Day At The Meat Market

Jimmy Rankin Meats out on Lapeer Rd. is one of my favorite places to go.  The meat is amazing, and the staff is so helpful and kind.  Jimmy himself is just about the sweetest person ever.  I had a catering gig in January that I needed a couple of Top Rounds for.  He hooked me up, gave me a great deal, and even gave me some pointers on cooking it.  He took a load off my mind, and the meat was incredible.  So usually my trips there are fun filled (samples!) and enjoyable.  Well, a while back, Chris and I wanted to load the freezer up, so we headed over to Rankin.  As I pulled in, we couldn't help but notice a gigantic extended cab F-350 that basically took up 3 parking spaces.  As I slunk up next to the beast and parked, I couldn't help but feel like a spec of dust on the pavement.  The rear bumper was above eye level as I sat in the car.  I should have known this couldn't be a good sign.  We went in, and the wonder of the meat market swept me away, and all was forgotten.  We paid for our mighty load, and walked out to the spec of dust.  As we were getting ready to back out, we noticed an older gentleman walk out of the market and climb into the beast.  Chris and I looked at each other like "that's the cowboy?".  Indeed it was.  He started up the beast as I backed out.  I swung the car around and was waiting to pull out onto Lapeer Rd.  I looked in the rear view mirror just in time to see the beast swallowing up the entire back end of our poor little car!  I screamed and honked the horn to no avail.  The beast had eaten.  Chris got out of the car while I sat boiling in my rotten anger.  Stupid Cowboy!  Stupid Big Truck!  Chris and the cowboy assessed the damage.  I couldn't hear anything over the ringing in my mad hot ears.  Chris came back to the car and asked if I wanted to look at it.  He said it wasn't anything, a little crack in the magic plastic that they make cars out of these days.  I said NO LET'S JUST GO!  He looked at me like I was a crazy person.  He went back to the cowboy, a heard Chris laugh and shake hands with the car crushing cowboy.  He got in the car and wondered what my problem was.  What is my problem?  MY PROBLEM?  Well, I am a hormonal woman who can change personalities faster than changing my mind.  I was furious and didn't know why.  We were fine.  The car was fine.  I was just pissed.  So there.  Chris then played out the scenario as he saw it:  Old guy tells his wife he's got to mail something, so he jumps in the beast and heads out.  He is really on a mission to get his Meat Stick Fix, so he heads to Rankin to satisfy the craving.  He gets his snack, and is ready to enjoy it on the ride home.  He has to finish all of them before his wife finds out where he really went.  He is in meat stick heaven, when HOLY HELL!  He bumps into us.  Then I go crazy and ruin his Meat Stick Fix.  He feels bad all day, and even now, he questions the trip to Rankin, and how bad does he really wants those meat sticks?  I think Chris over thinks most things, and was adding a little sap to his story, but I still think of this day and my poor behavior and hang my head.  I wish I could find Mr. Cowboy and apologize for being an ass.  And the meat sticks would be on me.
J~

Mulligan Stew

I posted on FB yesterday that I was making Mulligan Stew, and people asked what it was.  My husband, Chris, calls something that has anything and everything in it "Mulligan".  I wasn't sure what I was going to make for dinner last night, so I went to the basement freezer and took a peek.  There, like a ray of sunshine, were all the vegetables from last summer's farmers market chopped and ready for use.  I grabbed celery, green and red bell peppers, corn, carrots and onions.  I threw them in a pot with butter and olive oil and let them saute.  I mashed up some garlic with kosher salt and added it to the simmering pot.  Once the vegetables broke down, I threw in some Italian seasoning, Thyme and pepper.  Remember, we are still in "Chicken Mode" here at the Becker's, so I cubed up a chicken breast and seasoned it with char grill seasoning and in it went.  Once that cooked for a bit, I added in the Aleppo pepper tomato salsa I had made the other night.  It had such a concentrated tomato flavor, and it complemented everything else in the stew.  The little kick it gave it was an added bonus.  Bring on some chicken stock, throw in some orzo pasta, and let it do its own dance.  I know dinner is a hit when I see the bottom of Chris' bowl.  So, that is Mulligan Stew, but there is no set recipe, because what looks out at me from the freezer or fridge and begs to be made into something great is always different.
J~

Opportunity Knocks

I have a meeting today with the owner of a local business.  They are expanding, and are in need of a cook, I believe.  I don't want to get ahead of myself since I have no idea what this meeting will bring, but I can't help feeling torn.  I love getting up at 3am everyday and going into the bakery.  I am given free reign on what I want to make on any given day.  I get to release my creativity coming up with new soups, and really enjoy myself every day.  I also have time to take on cake orders, catering gigs, and anything that presents itself in my personal business.  But that part of me that always thinks I'm missing out on something keeps whispering in my ear "What's behind THAT door?" and so I have to open it.  Who knows what will happen today, but if nothing else, at least I made that connection, and maybe down the road that will come back around to be a very beneficial thing.  Or maybe I'll just be the next Grant Achatz.....you never know.

Come back Saturday to find out how Jenn Webb and I do creating our own Mushroom Brie Soup and I might just post the recipe.
J~

One Thing Leads to Another

I adore my dear friend, Robin.  She is the type of friend that would give you the shirt off her back, even if she wasn't wearing a cute bra.  Robin, if you read this, I am not insinuating you have scrubby undergarments, I am just trying to make my point.  Anyway...Rob had a rotisserie chicken that was on its way to walking off, so she asked for suggestions on what to do with it.  I am in "Chicken Mode" as of late since my husband declared it "Chicken Time".  This means he wants to eat chicken daily, and in all capacities.  So my suggestion to Rob was basically what I planned on making for dinner tonight.  She called me a genius, but I was just actually really hungry for all of the ingredients in this dish.  I'll call it "Poor Man's Rich Chicken", simply because it has a restaurant type feel, but it's served over Ramen noodles.  Of course, the best part is you can use a gourmet pasta if you don't have Ramen, and then it would be called "Rich Man's Rich Chicken", or something like that.  I am not sure how other food blogs work, but for me, this is my best plan of attack, so feel free to offer up suggestions.  I like recipe formats instead of "reading" a recipe in paragraph form.  I don't want to hunt for ingredients, I just want to know what is in it, if I have to swap, or if I have to go shopping.  I'm not very good on exact measurements, so go easy on me, I will get better.  I know your handful isn't the same as my man-hand handful, but you'll get the idea.  My first recipe to you:

Poor Man's Rich Chicken

2 pkgs. Ramen Noodles cooked according to pkg instructions, omitting scary flavor packet
2 Tbs. butter
2 Tbs. olive oil
1/2 red onion chopped
2 cloves garlic, mashed with 1 tsp salt
1 large boneless skinless chicken breast -chopped into bite size pieces
1 generous handful fresh baby spinach
1/3 cup oil packed sun dried tomatoes - rough chop
2/3 cup homemade chicken broth or *gasp* store bought
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 green onions - chopped

Saute onion and garlic in butter and olive oil over medium heat 5 minutes.  Add chicken pieces and cook 3 minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add spinach and sun dried tomatoes.  Cook until spinach has wilted, and liquid is reduced or cooked off, 5 minutes.  Add chicken broth, reduce heat and cook 10 minutes.  Add heavy cream and cook 5 more minutes.  Serve over Ramen noodles.  Top with green onions.

Enjoy!
J~

In the Beginning.....

For all of my friends and family that have very kindly shoved me into blogging....here it is!  I am hoping to be disciplined enough to blog daily about what I am baking and cooking, my catering events and menus, and the ups and downs of cake designing.  I am constantly asked cooking and baking questions, so I hope I can answer some of them here.  First and foremost, I am not, I repeat, not a chef.  I am simply a cook and baker.  I have worked under some of the most amazing and talented chefs, and they were gracious enough to teach and lead me.  My passion for baking started with my mother and I making her Aunt Dotten's Jewish Braided Bread.  We made a day of it, and I was hooked.  I was six when that bug took over, and then 8 when I started helping my dad put dinners together.  We are still doing it today, him being my right hand man in our small catering business, Clean Your Plate Catering and Cakes.  I couldn't do it without him, so he better get that damned knee replacement soon.  Whip cracker, I am.  If I had to choose between a night of going out to dinner, or staying in and cooking, the cooking wins hands down every time.  The days when I am up at the crack of dawn prepping, and still cooking by night fall are my best days.  Lately, working at 3 am at Bean's Bakery and Cafe, and then running out to shop for a catering gig, prepping and cooking and baking....I am in heaven.  I have a busy year ahead with a lot of parties at Port Huron Yacht Club.  The Commodore is a good friend, so I am lucky to be her caterer for these amazing events.  The biggest is the Commodore's Cocktail Party that takes place the night before the Port Huron to Mackinac sailboat race.  Commodore's from competing clubs are invited, as well as members of PHYC.  The party only lasts 1 1/2 hours, but myself and the Commodore have been working on it since early January, and will continue to work on it until that day.  Some things coming up that I plan to blog about:
Friday Night Feed at PYYC featuring Crab Cakes and Pralines
Appetizer Party for 20
Commodore's Tasting Party (This is were we will pick our favorite items that we will  have at the Cocktail Party)
Thanks for reading
J~