It's Time to Come Clean

I need to confess something to you. It's been weighing on me but I've stuffed it because I don't want you to think less of me - we all know you've put me on a pedestal. But the pressure is too much. I need to offload the guilt and move on with my life. So - ready? Here goes . . . .

I'm not an athlete.

I know - I KNOW! I'm sorry! Really, really sorry. I've led you on for a long time but this is the new me - the truthful me and truthfully, I've always wanted to be an athlete but it was never in the cards.

Basically - in a nutshell - I'm a wimp. I'm afraid of the ball, afraid of getting hurt and - this is the worst - I don't care if I lose. It's a rather deadly combination.

Don't get me wrong - I love sports. Football, basketball, track - I love watching it on TV and talking about teams and players but I've never played anything. Well, let me back up a little bit. I played basketball in high school.

Go get a cup of coffee - it's story time.

I started getting tall when I was a sophomore in high school. Everybody (and when I say "everybody" I mean all the cool, popular girls who were starters on our little 2-A high school team) told me I should go out for the team. Because I was tall. Too bad that isn't the only skill you need to play ball - being tall.

I went out for the team and by the end of the first practice, it was obvious to everyone that I was a complete dork. No coordination, no ball-handling skills, no natural ability and the WORST was suicides. Remember those? At least that's what we called them. We'd sprint from baseline-1/4 court-baseline-1/2 court-baseline-3/4 court- full court and back. I think they're called sprints now. How PC. "Sprints" sound like something light and airy and quick - not something that will make you throw up. Anything that makes you puke in practice should have a more ominous name than "sprints". But I digress. Let's get back to the humiliation.

So, I'm on the team. Well, I'm on the JV team. OK, I'm a benchwarmer on the JV team. Fortunately I didn't share this humiliation alone. There were 4 of us. We all sat at the end of the bench and tried not to hurl, thinking about playing. See, if it was a close game, the coach wouldn't dream of jeopardizing a win with us in there. We only went in if it was a blowout. We would sit at the end of the bench and - I'm not kidding you - pray fervently for the game to be close. Although, I'm sure the people watching a 2-A, JV girl's basketball game anticipated the entertainment we benchwarmers provided. It was worth the price of the ticket, people.

My dad can tell you stories about Karenpie running down the court in the opposite direction of the action and Coach Stoecker, arms waving, red-faced and yelling, "Karen! Other way! OTHER WAY!" Or me, getting ready for a jump ball, putting my foot at the line (which indicates to the ref I'm ready to jump), then looking to see where my teammates are and while I'm looking around (trying not to throw up, remember) the ball goes up, everyone moves, play starts and I'm still standing there, haven't even jumped yet.

Another time, in practice, we were scrimmaging and Coach had someone shooting free throws. We were in a one & one (if the player makes the first shot, they get a second free throw. If they don't make it, whoever rebounds gets the ball). She made the first free throw, I rebounded and took it out. Everyone was like, "No! She made it!" So I gave the ball back. We started over. Same thing happened. Finally the coach stopped everything and said, "Karen, do you know what a one and one is?" I had to say no and all the Seniors rolled their eyes. You know what was funny? I was making rebounds for the first time and thinking I rocked. I wasn't paying attention to the fact that I didn't have any competition for the rebound.

For the last thirty years, whenever anyone in my family can get in a comment about Karenpie's basketball ability, they go with it. But what can I say? It was a highly entertaining era in their lives.

So, it was humiliating but I refused to quit. I ended the season with maybe 7 minutes of total playing time, no points, no stats except turnovers and a HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF. Turning in my uniform was the sweetest day of my basketball career.

"So why," you ask, "are you bringing this up, Karenpie? We were perfectly happy thinking of you as a possible Olympian." Well, the reason is that basketball is once again part of my life.

Matthew is playing and Duane is coaching the team. Our second practice, Duane and the other coach were both going to be late so I offered to get the boys warmed up and stretched until the coaches got there. And you know what? It was fun. I showed them all kinds of stretches that I've learned in Pilates/ballet. Unfortunately for the boys, they couldn't even touch their toes so I worked them.

Afterwards, I shared with Duane how fun it was and asked if I could do it again sometime. And here's what my sweet, naturally athletic, varsity-basketball-playing husband told me - "Yes. You're our new strength and conditioning coach."

Let's just let that soak in for a couple of seconds, shall we? Coach.

So, for all the times I heard about my lack of basketball skills and my dorkiness I have something to tell you;

That's COACH Dork, wise guys. No more of the snarky comments. Now drop and give me fifty. Of something. Then go do 138 suicides.

Who's the one with the whistle now? Huh? Who?

Karenpie - top left corner. The spot reserved for dorks, benchwarmers and future coaches.

Fat Friday: Homemade Soft Pretzels

Oh baby - would you look at that?

Soft, fresh-out-of-the-oven pretzels are my kids' favorite after-school snack and they're a total cinch to make. A cinch I tell you! Would I lie to you?

Before we begin, I have to show you this again . . .

Because I'm immature and like to gloat and get to gleefully look at this every single day. Gleefully. What a great word.

On a more mature note; when I made this pretzel recipe and took pictures, I didn't have my new mixer. All the pictures will show my old blue mixer. I just don't want you to get confused.

See? I'm just trying for clarity here, people.

In the bowl of your brand-new, 6 qt, candy-apple red, KitchenAid mixer, put 2 envelopes of yeast (I use instant yeast myself, but you can use whatever you like) 2 T. sugar and 2 t. salt. Whisk it together to mix, then pour in 2 2/3 cups very warm water and 1/4 cup of canola oil.

Give it a stir then add . . .

6 cups of flour. You'll end up using 7 1/2 - 8 cups of flour total but start with 6. I use half whole wheat pastry flour and half all-purpose. Because I'm all about healthy snacks in my house. We need healthy snacks because supper will probably be Captain Crunch.

Use your dough hook and keep the mixer on level 2 when you mix this up. See how messy the sides of the bowl are? It needs more flour, so, with the mixer still going, add a 1/2 cup at a time, until it looks like this . . .

See how the sides of the bowl are clean? That's what you want - with just a little bit of sticky dough stuck to the bottom. I ended up adding another 1 1/2 cups of flour for a total of 7 1/2 cups but sometimes it's 8 cups. It all depends on the day, the humidity, how much of a hurry I'm in . . .

Once you have enough flour incorporated, leave the mixer speed on 2 and knead the dough for 4 minutes.

Turn the dough out onto your counter or in my case, my trusty pastry cloth. Cut the dough into 20 pieces and let them rest, under a towel or the mixing bowl, for 5 - 10 minutes. I have to be honest - sometimes I blow that off. It usually takes me that long to roll them out into pretzel shapes so I figure they're getting plenty of rest.

Well-rested pretzels are, I believe, the secret to a successful life. *snort*

Roll them into long ropes, around 15 inches long.

Make this shape, crossing the ends and leaving "tails" about an inch long. Then, lightly pinch the crossed part together, lift it and fold it over. Like this . . .

Pretzel!

Lots of pretzels!

Crack an egg into a small bowl and beat it. Then brush the tops of the pretzels with the beaten egg. It makes a lovely golden color when it bakes, plus it helps the cheese to stick better. What cheese, you ask?

This cheese. I use a Colby-cheddar blend but you can use anything. Pepper jack would be awesome but the kids wouldn't like it. I've even put cheese in the dough - just throw a handful of grated cheese in with the flour. Someday I'm going to put jalapenos or chilies in there. Ever had a jalapeno pretzel at Auntie Anne's in the mall? Magical.

My kids like cinnamon sugar pretzels, too. Just sprinkle it on after the egg. You can also sprinkle on sesame seeds or coarse salt. There are so many variations! However you create them, bake them for 13-15 minutes at 425 degrees. They should be a nice golden brown.

So, go forth and create pretzels but before you do I'd like to leave you with this . . .

Maturity is so over-rated.

(Click here for printable recipe!)

Valentine Sweets

Happy Valentines Day! OK, so I'm a bit late. We still have treats left so I'm still in celebration mode.

I can hear you saying, "What a great cookie! It's heart-shaped! However did you make such an awesome creation?" Well, let me tell you it was TOUGH but I made it using this . . .

. . . oh you beauty. Come to me, you sweet thing, I will worship and adore you.

This mixer was waiting for me, set up on the kitchen counter when I got home from church last Sunday. My sneaky family went to the mall while I was singing in second service and got it. This is The Mixer I have been slobbering over for at least 2 years. Anytime I was anywhere near a Williams-Sonoma I would go in and pet it and whisper sweet nothings in it's ear and promise it a good home.

We had a perfectly good mixer - a smaller KitchenAid that I've had for almost 20 years - but the capacity wasn't enough. You cannot make double batches of cookie dough and yeast bread in a 4.5 qt mixer bowl. Ask me. I tried - and I cursed. And that's why I got a mixer with a 6 qt. bowl - to decrease the cursing.

So, instead of my usual Sunday afternoon activity of sleeping on the couch I was mixing up stuff.

Like a giant chocolate chip cookie, baked it in a big ol' heart pan.

Katie decorated it.

Don't you love the squeezy bottle of frosting? Perfect for little hands. Another Pampered Chef item, folks. Man, I should be getting some kind of kickback from those Pampered Chef people.

Finished product. All of our names are in there somewhere. Didn't she do an awesome job? Katie + frosting + sprinkles = masterpiece.

We had such a fun Valentines weekend! It actually started on Friday night, with our annual neighborhood party here at our house. We provided wine and cosmos and everybody brought a dessert to share. You want to meet some of my neighbors? Most of them have no idea they're going to end up on the blog. (Blog? What blog? What's a blog?)

This is Debbie. Isn't she pretty? She makes beautiful scrapbooks.

Here are Kappy and Gina. Gina made these . . .

These are the most sublime brownies I've ever put in my mouth. I've raved about them so much that I have Gina trained. Every time she comes to our house she brings Three Layer Brownies. I'll give you the recipe sometime . . . if you're very, VERY good.

This is Cathy. Her husband is running for County Prosecutor. So every time I talked to him that night I said, "So, you're running for public defender, right?" Then I stood back and watched him choke on his food. It was very entertaining.

Then I said, "OK, listen Mister. I have a tough, hard-hitting journalistic question for you and I don't want to hear any waffling or trying to get out of it. Got it? Here goes - if you win the election and become, like, Mr. Big-Shot-Really-Important-Guy, will you still bring grilled corn to the neighborhood BBQ? Huh? Try to wiggle out of that one, buster."

Here are Shannon and Ron. She brought these -

Magical. That's what they were. Red velvet cupcakes with tiny chocolate hearts. Magical.

We also have a neighbor who's in law enforcement. So, at the end of the party, what did we do? Begged and badgered and bugged him until he brought his breathalyzer over. We all wanted to see if we'd had too much to drink.

Nothing says "fun party" like checking your blood alcohol content at the end of the night.

I throw fun ones, people. Fun.

Spirit Week

Every year our school has "Spirit Week". It's a fun week for the kids - no uniforms and lots of goofy costumes and hairdos. There are themes for each day - Sports Day where you can wear a uniform or your favorite team's jersey, Crazy Hat/Hair Day, Senior Citizen Day, Color Wars and so on. Every year they do some new ones but Crazy Hair Day is a favorite in our house.

Here, let me show you . . . .

Matthew and Daniel have been growing their hair out since before Christmas, begging me to let it get long so they could have some "awesome mohawks, Mom". Their shaggy, thick hair has been driving me absolutely nuts but they were right. It made for some awesome mohawks.

I learned a couple of years ago that if you want to color your hair purple and green and blue in February, you better remember it at Halloween, when all the crazy hair color is available.

Katie had a definite idea of what to do with her hair too. Tight little twists all over her head, wound up and colored pink, purple and blue. I slathered sections of her hair with mousse, twisted them tightly and anchored them with hairbands and bobby pins. Then we colored each little twist a different color.

Needless to say, we had to get up a little early to make this happen before school!

I was sure they would fall out when she started running at recess but those suckers were tough. Her hair looked exactly like this when she got home from school. Well, except for the additional green color that I never took a picture of (sorry - dangling preposition - I hate it when my prepositions dangle).

Here's what her hair looked like when all the bobby pins and bands came out -

Nice green, huh?

Here's what surprised me - the curls!

I think I've discovered a new way to curl Katie's hair. I'm going to try it - without the added color - and see if the curls stay in all day, too.

Anyway, back to Spirit Week. Tuesday was Senior Citizen Day. There were kids who had canes, walkers, white hair - you get the idea. Daniel, however, had a definite idea of what he wanted to do. He wanted to look like Grandpa and I have to say - he nailed it.

Button up shirt - check.

Cat hat - check.

Toothpick - check.

List of plumbing supplies - check.

Everything kept in the front pocket - check.

Just when I think that everything goes over their heads - that the details escape them - they surprise me. Daniel is the observer in the family - the quiet one who notices the little things that complete the picture. And he totally got Grandpa.

Today is the last day of Spirit Week - Color Wars Day. It's a blast. Each classroom has a designated color that they wear. The grades compete with each other - relays, pie-eating contests, etc. They make up cheers and have a cheer contest - who can be the loudest. It's probably the most fun day of the week. For everyone except Katie. Who had nothing yellow to wear to school and that was the first-graders' color.

Excuse me while I go eat cookies and contemplate my complete failure as a mother due to the lack of yellow clothing in my house.

Fat Friday: Bierocks

Today I'm going to be an educator. That's right - a teacher. No more whiney, self-absorbed me-talk.

Out with the narcissism, I say! Out!

OK, that will probably only last as long as this post then I'll get back to blathering on about me, my kids, my life and, uh . . . . me.

Today, I am once again going to do my best to be a food blogger. And you say, "Oh joy. One more in the thundering herd of food bloggers cluttering up cyberspace with pictures of food."

Except this time it will be MY food, uh . . cluttering up cyberspace . .

Huh.

Bierocks are basically a raised yeast roll with savory filling inside. They're fun to make and satisfying PLUS my kids love them. Can you think of any better combo? Me either.

Duane and I both grew up eating these for lunch in our school cafeteria. We'd poke holes in the roll with the spout of a ketchup bottle, squirt in ketchup and eat them with our hands. Midwest eating at it's finest, folks.

Before we get to cooking, I have to show you one of my favorite kitchen gadgets . . .

Can you guess what this is?

It's a "Mix 'n Chop" from Pampered Chef. I use it solely to break up hamburger as it's cooking. I'm picky about big hamburger pieces in spaghetti sauce, soups and bierocks. This little tool helps me solve that particular OCD problem.

On to the recipe.

Throw a pound of hamburger in a large pan on the stove. I usually buy 93/7 hamburger for the smallest percentage of fat. Begin cooking it and breaking it up with your handy chopper. The hamburger is easier to chop when it's cooked. While that's going on . . . .

Grab a small cabbage. As you can see, this cabbage can fit in the palm of my hand. Unless I have ginormous man-hands and can palm a basketball. Guess you'll just have to trust me on this - it's a small cabbage.

Chop it into small pieces (or you can grate it) and . . .

. . . throw it in with the hamburger. It will cook down and look like this . . .

See? The cabbage really cooks down and, if you look closely, the hamburger pieces are about the same size as the cabbage pieces. That's important. To nobody else but me.

Season the hamburger-cabbage mixture with a teaspoon or so of Lawry's.

After it's all cooked, add 2 tablespoons of flour to the meat mixture and stir it around. Then add some broth - beef, chicken, vegetable - whatever you have on hand. I happened to have chicken broth in my fridge so that's what I used. Stir in the broth, a quarter cup at a time, until you have a nice, wet mixture that will hold together. You may have to add more flour and broth until you get the right consistency.

Obviously, I did not take any pictures of this process. That's why I'm not a real food blogger and you don't have to take me seriously. Moving on.

I used this roll mix for the recipe but next time I'm going to try my own bread recipe, maybe whip up a batch of dough in my bread machine like my friend Lynn taught me! Check out her Garlic Cheese Rolls. Oh baby.

Following the directions on the box, I emptied the bag of dry ingredients into my mixer and added water and an egg. I used the dough hook and mixed it up while I was finishing up the hamburger mixture. I had to add another 1/2 cup of flour because the dough was so sticky.

Here's the finished ball of dough.

Divide the large ball into 12 - 14 pieces. I cut it into 16 pieces but ended up combining a few of the small ones together. Because I didn't do it evenly to begin with. It drove me nuts because they weren't even. So I had a glass of wine and that didn't make me feel better. Well, it made me feel better but it didn't solve the problem so I had to improvise. Sometimes being a perfectionist can really be a drag. Except where laundry is concerned and then I don't give a flying flip. Wait . . . where was I? Oh right . . .

Take each small ball and roll it out - evenly and perfectly.

Then roll it flat - evenly and perfectly - why yes, the wine is kicking in.

Spoon a couple of heaping spoonfuls in the middle of the perfectly rolled out dough. Then, realize that you are making a big, greasy mess on your new pastry cloth and try a different approach.

Much better. I held the dough disc in my slightly cupped hand and filled it that way. Much neater.

Pinch two opposite sides together . . .

. . . then pinch the ends together.

Gather all the pinched parts together and kind of mush them into a ball. Put the ball, messy side down in a greased 9x13 pan with space in between.

Here's what they look like, all rolled out. The bierocks need to rise for 20 minutes or so. Then bake for 20 minutes at 350 until golden brown. Mmmmmm, soon the smell of baking bread will fill the house!

I kept watching these, waiting for them to rise and get puffy but it never happened. Oh well, time to bake them anyway. They were baking in the oven and I was cleaning up the kitchen when I grabbed the empty roll mix box and found this . . . .

For the love of . . . . . YES this is the yeast that was SUPPOSED to go in the bread dough. What could I do? They were already in the oven and almost finished baking. Now that I thought about it, there was no fresh-baked, yeasty smell in the house, an indication I was baking bread.

I have a confession - I cussed. Not so the kids could hear me but I still cussed.

Here we have the finished product. We like to eat ours with ketchup or BBQ sauce (Matthew) or Taco Bell sauce (Daniel). Instead of the puffy, golden-brown masterpiece I had pictured in my mind when I started this project, it was more like a dumpling but it was still good and my kids had SECONDS. Seconds, I tell you!

Maybe I'm not a total failure.

(Click here for printable recipe!)