a mouth-watering week

Since returning from my Denver trip, I've tried to kick myself back into point-counting mode. (Weight Watchers points, that is. For more about my experience with Weight Watchers, read this post.) Some weeks have been better than others, and for me, Weight Watchers is more about being conscious of what I put into my body and how I treat it.

It's not an easy road, though. This week I have been craving dessert. Like, seriously. The moodiness of this month may have something to do with this (which probably also says something about how I handle mood swings). When I'm counting points, I have to consciously decide against foods that I love. Like cake. And brownies. And big, chewy chocolate chip cookies. So, on this Friday, I present you with some of the confections that have been haunting my food-mind all week. Please make them and enjoy them on my behalf.

the chocolate peanut-butter cake
You can find this delight here. It's honestly one of the most wonderful things I've ever had. I made it last year for Fathers' Day. It combines all the most wonderful flavors into one seriously amazing dessert. Please make it. 

Reese's no-bake peanut-butter bars
This is one of the easiest desserts ever. It's perfect for picnics, potlucks, or hoarding at home. These beauties are very pointy, like 15-WW-points a pop pointy. It's one of the first recipes I made from Our Best Bites, and I've been hooked on the site ever since. Once I'm in maintenance mode--or at least when I'm burned out on point-tracking--I will make this immediately.

{photo from Our Best Bites}

thick and chewy chocolate chip cookies
I stumbled on these when I was three months postpartum and dying for sleep. The recipe is from Baking Illustrated (the Test Kitchen, so, you know, my baking/cooking bible). These cookies are best when you use bittersweet chocolate chips. But really, everything is best with bittersweet chocolate chips.

frosted sugar cookie bars
I found these a couple of months ago and find them to be the perfect solution for sugar cookie cravings. (I love sugar cookies, but you have to make the dough and chill it and bake the cookies and frost them and clean up. There are just so many steps.) This bar cookie takes a total of a pound and a half of butter once you make the frosting, and they're amazing. Obviously. With a pound and a half of butter, how could they be bad? Seriously, if you make them for a crowd, you will have zero leftovers. (An aside, I half the almond extract in both the cookie and the frosting. Personal preference.)

{photo from Our Best Bites}

mint brownies
I haven't made these yet, but I've wanted to. Again, once I'm burned out on point-counting you can be sure that these will happen. And the recipe is once again from Our Best Bites, so you know it's delicious.

{again, from Our Best Bites}

I've also had a hankering for snacky desserts like Rice Krispie treats and McFlurrys. Goodness. I know I'll thank myself later for this discipline, so how about you make at least one of these this weekend and tell me how much you love it. I'll enjoy it all vicariously. Obviously.

the mantle and the cake guts

When we moved into our new home last summer, I casually asked our friend Blair--who's extremely skilled in all things handy and building--if he wouldn't mind making us a mantle to go over our fireplace. We have this fireplace with brick reaching straight from the floor to the ceiling, and a mantle would just look so pretty. (Josh at first wanted to put our gargantuan television above the fireplace, an issue which caused some contention in our marriage for a time.)

So after we spent several months settling in, I reapproached Blair with my proposal. He said yes, and last month came over with this:

I am blown away by the craftsmanship and am absolutely giddy about how perfect this mantle is for our home. It's the kind of thing that I'll take down when we eventually sell this place so that buyers can't ask for it in the contract. It's the kind of thing that will have a place in our home forever.

When we asked what we owed him for supplies and labor, Blair very graciously stated that this was a housewarming gift. So. My brain started whirring for a way to express our gratitude: cake. Obviously.

Yesterday was Blair's birthday, and I thought, What better day to bake him his favorite cake than on his birthday? So I went to work during Asher's nap making a German chocolate cake. The smells coming from the oven were delicious, and then it was time to take the layers out of the pan.

And all three layers stuck and fell out in chunks. All of them. That chocolaty, moist cake came out in clumps and crumbs, and I was left facing a bowl of cake guts next to a bowl of signature German chocolate topping.

I didn't have time to make another and had to face the facts that instead of bringing over birthday cake for Blair that I would instead come bearing a bowl of crumbs. At least they were delicious crumbs.

So we picked up Tillamook ice cream on our way to their house, because cake guts are still pretty good when you involve ice cream. I'd like to claim a do-over another day, but Blair and his wife, Kate, were very gracious about the whole thing, because they're good people like that.

At the end of the day when I crash on the couch and look up at this space that's mine to personalize and beautify, I'm just grateful to have wonderful people in my life who are so kind to me and my family. This place here in Oregon is so good to us, even when I produce cake guts in place of a layered dessert.

a chocolaty betrayal

I made my New Year's cake yesterday. I made Edith James cake (a devil's food recipe) and decided last minute to deviate from the prescribed frosting recipe. Turns out the frosting I used--while pretty--was far too rich for this already rich cake. So, lesson learned. Stick with the sweeter frosting.

Lest you think this post is just about frosting, let me confide to you the real betrayal: my husband confessed he doesn't like cake. I know that logically this is nothing personal, but it sure is taking all my cake-loving heart has to not take this uber-personally. In a fit of comical dramatics last night, I blurted out that had I known about this significant character flaw a long time ago, perhaps we wouldn't even be married today.

(I jest. Obviously. Mostly. But really, I love him. For the record.)

Oh the sad truth that I married a man who doesn't like cake, when cake is my most favorite treat to concoct. And what fun is it to make a cake just for yourself? (Unless it's that peanut-butter ganache delicacy that I compulsorily hoard.) Wo, wo, wo is I.

[End scene]

Dramatic much?

lunch date

Welcome readers from The Life of Bon! I'm so happy that you're here. For my own small following of readers, I'm glad you're here too. Obviously. And if you haven't read Bonnie's blog, you should check it out. It's one of those blogs that I diligently read. How about we have a low-key lunch to get to know each other better? I can whip up some leftover pesto grilled cheese from last night. Have you ever had pesto with your grilled cheese? If not, come over now.

I'll also heat you up some tomato soup. I found my favorite recipe from these ladies. I thought that pesto grilled cheese and creamy tomato soup were perfect for our overcast Oregon weather yesterday. Is it feeling like fall where you are?

How was your summer? Did you meet any cute boys? If things with that boy didn't work out, then he's stupid for not realizing how rad you are. But it's okay to be sad sometimes. Never think that being sad is lame. It's human, and being human isn't such a bad thing at all.

I'm excited for fall fashions. I will confess, however, that I'm not even sure exactly what those fashions are. What I really mean is that I'm excited for some fall sewing. I'm in the middle of sewing a dress with lots and lots of pleats.

What have you been reading lately? I'm close to finishing The Handmaid's Tale, and I'm finding it fascinating and disturbing and thoughtful. After I finish this book, I'll be 75-percent of the way to my yearly goal. Do you make annual reading goals?

Now that we're officially homeowners, we have a list of some home improvement projects to tackle. Josh and one of our friends mounted the TV a few weeks ago, and now I'm itching to put up some shelves on either side. Have I told you that we have a 60-inch TV? It's obscene.

I can't believe it's taken us this long to talk about TV premiers. Next week is going to be awesome when it comes to Hulu. I'll have new episodes queuing up fast, people. I used to be ashamed of how much I love TV, but I'm not so much anymore. Some people hike to relax. I like to watch television.

I accidentally put a virus on our computer, and I feel like a total idiot because of it. I guess it was an honest mistake, but who likes to admit to their tech-y husband that, "Um, hon, so I may have downloaded a virus onto the computer. That might have happened. You should probably check that out. You know, just in case." Have you made any silly mistakes recently that you're loathe to admit? Don't worry, I won't tell.

We're about out of time, but let me send you with some pumpkin bread. I whipped some up a couple of weeks ago and put the loaves in the freezer so I don't eat them all for breakfast. So please, take a loaf with you and rid me of the temptation. Thanks. And let's get together soon. I mean it.

a midweek roast

I had this small roast sitting in the freezer, and when I say small, I mean that it was the perfect amount for two people. This morning I took it out to thaw, and even though I was tired and achy after work eight hours later, I browned this roast and put it in the oven for dinner.

I cooked and mashed some potatoes, peeled and steamed some carrots, and cut up some leftover French bread from spaghetti the other night. So for dinner on this otherwise ordinary Wednesday, we had pot roast and mashed potatoes.

Please don't think that we eat like this all the time. Trust me, if the roast hadn't already been thawed I would have called it a cold-cereal night all the way. But since I'd already taken the roast out, I thought I should follow through.

So, instead of wearing pearls while I put dinner together I wore polka-dot pajamas, and instead of pulling out pretty serving dishes for the potatoes and carrots, we just served ourselves out of the mixing bowl and stove pot. Dinner was the perfect mix of decadent comfort food and weeknight lazy. We ate roast, mashed potatoes, and gravy on plastic Target plates while watching Arrested Development reruns for the hundredth time--far from fancy, but oh so perfect.

For one final midweek treat, I took the liberty of whipping up our favorite pudding concoction while Josh went to Scouts.

I know I won't be able to get away with mashed potatoes out of the KitchenAid forever, and heaven forbid this child of mine grows up thinking that roast on a Wednesday is anything normal, but for just Josh and me right now, a Sunday dinner on not a Sunday is absolute perfection.

the birthday cake: 2012

When I asked Josh what cake he wanted for his birthday this year, he gave me a few specifications:
:: something chocolate
:: something dense without a delicate crumb
:: something that incorporated berries

After some research in my Baker's Illustrated, I settled on the following:
:: devil's food cake
:: buttercream frosting
:: raspberry filling

I think I care more about Josh's birthday cake than I do about my own; I spent a couple of weeks figuring out exactly how to fill his cake desires. I took my cake and frosting recipes from Baker's Illustrated and adapted my grandma's strawberry pie filling recipe for raspberries. I made the cake and frosting the day before and assembled it all the day of the party.

When I concocted this cake, I had visions of satiny buttercream and perfectly interspersed raspberry filling--it was dreamy. This is how it really looked:

{Josh desperately wanted to use the leftover raspberry filling to decorate the top, and how could I refuse him at his own birthday party?}

Certainly not dreamy or satiny.

So I learned a few crucial things with this cake:

:: First, don't refrigerate buttercream. The recipe may say that you can, but don't. It loses all satiny-ness and looks very un-dreamy. (Maybe if I had thought it through more I would have realized that buttercream--made primarily of butter--would take quite a while to soften once out of the fridge. Maybe I could have whipped it more with a handmixer to regain the satin quality? Regardless, just make it the day of and save yourself the grief.)

::  When the buttercream ends up looking more like taffeta than satin, just let it go. It still tasted divine. Don't beat yourself up over refrigerating the buttercream.

:: It's okay for the birthday boy to decorate his own cake--even if it goes against everything you'd dreamed of for the confection.

Even given all my self-perceived shortcomings  in this cake, Josh pronounced it his favorite cake of mine that he's tasted to date. It filled all of his cake requests, and really, that's exactly what I wanted to begin with.

For accounts Josh's past birthday cakes, go here: 2010, 2011.

a day for chili

This week the weather has looked a lot like this.

I wish my little point-and-shoot camera could convey the heavy, steady fall of rain and the frequent swooshes of wind that have accompanied this wet and wintry week. This is the weather that begs for stretchy pants, hot chocolate, and a good book. So yesterday after walking in after work, I decided that homemade chili was the perfect meal for a wet and stormy night.

I found my favorite chili recipe this past fall in this magazine. It's seriously the best chili recipe I've ever encountered. It calls for real chili peppers that you process to make your own chili powder. Real chili peppers, people. This recipe is so legit. The chili powder smells enticingly exotic yet still carries that comfort food vibe. It's magical.

And then, if you can imagine that this chili can get any better, you use blade steak for the meat instead of ground beef. (Making this recipe is a bit of a financial investment depending on the steak you spring for, but trust me, it's a culinary splurge worth indulging in.) I would have taken some pictures of the final product except that by the time it was ready we were so hungry and so ready for some stretchy pants that I skipped the final picture all together. Just know that it was delicious and that the leftovers won't last through the weekend.

 

To top off the night, do you think that there would be a better dessert than Diet Delight? (Sugar-free Jello pudding with a few dollops of light Cool Whip mixed in, more Cool Whip on top, and mini chocolate chips--delightful.) No one knows how to do winter rain like the Wilsons, people.

PS I know I need to update my blog banner, because I do know that it's now 2012. Cut me a break, though. I'm still in stretchy pants.

a new year's cake

I have a hard time with the new year. Remember that feeling we had as kids the day after Christmas? The feeling that said that all the fun is over? That's how I feel about January. January is the month where the miles separating my family and me are more acute and palpable, the month that lends itself most to loneliness.

Wednesday I took down my Christmas decorations with some Gilmore Girls on in the background. The day was gray, and I was fighting against the this-time-last-week game (you know, the masochistic game that tells you that last week at this time you were having a ball and now you're not). Then I had an idea: bake a cake. Bake a cake for the new year.

So after I packed away the tree, ornaments, and wreath, I pulled out the eggs, milk, flour, and cake pans. With another episode of Gilmore Girls on the TV, I baked a cake that turned out wonderfully. I tried a new chocolate frosting recipe and displayed the cake in a pretty cake dome.

I loved offsetting something that makes me blue with something delicious, sweet, and mildly decadent. I call it a new year's cake, and even though it's something small, it made me feel a less little sad about this oh-so-hard month.

devoted

Monday when I checked the mail, I found this waiting for me.

I was thrilled. I recently took the plunge and took out my own subscription to Cook's Illustrated, and I received this subscription bonus with serious excitement. See, here's the thing: I am devoted follower of the Test Kitchen. I don't have cable and so haven't actually ever watched America's Test Kitchen, but its companion publication, Cook's Illustrated, is everything I could hope for in a cooking magazine. Second only to my own family of cooks and bakers, Cook's Illustrated is my go-to cooking source.

And don't forget the recent gem I found, Baking Illustrated.

I bought this with birthday giftcard money, and I love it. It's my baking bible. It's these editors' job to experiment in the kitchen with things like leavening, eggs, milk-to-flour ratios, and mixing methods; their goal is to find the best, most reliable recipes. When it comes to my recent cake failures, this book is exactly what I've been looking for. I'm converted completely. I will actually hunker down on the couch expressly to read this book. No joke.

You will accurately surmise that much of the holiday baking that will be happening around here will be rooted in these publications--what else could you expect from a firm devotee? Also, please note that no part of this post was sponsored by the Test Kitchen or its affiliates, though if they happen to read this rave review I wouldn't say no to a lifetime Cook's Illustrated subscription, or better yet, a trip to the Test Kitchen in Boston.

a birthday cake for Grandma

My late grandmother's birthday was yesterday, and in proper Petersen-clan form, I baked a cake in her honor. I tried a new recipe taken from my new book (which I'm in love with), and I was excited to try more cake baking.

It didn't turn out great.

Obviously.

So instead of eating cake to page homage to my grandma, I tossed one straight into the trash. I couldn't even convince myself to have a piece for breakfast.

Grandma knew when to throw a cake, and hell, I do too.

**Edit: I'm sure the problem has more to do with my baking skill than it does the recipe out of the baking bible. Baking Illustrated is super, super awesome.**

the birthday, round 24

The morning of my birthday I ate my a bowl of my birthday cereal Froot Loops and settled down to watch more of season seven of 24, and get this: I watched the 24th episode of 24 on my 24th birthday. Unplanned. If that isn't a good harbinger for a birthday I don't know what is.

I did something adventurous: rock-climbing with Karen and our cute friend Marie.

I know, it's like you don't even know me anymore.

I ate delicious food. For dinner we went to our favorite restaurant, Manzana's, and got rotisserie chicken sandwiches to-go (with extras of their to-die-for chicken gravy).

And then we ate them at a park.

Then Josh gave me one of my presents, Sof-Bocce ball. We played, and I won. Obviously. I mean, it was my birthday.

I Skyped my family after we got back, and we had a good time conversing with them via video chat.

The next day I made two birthday cakes: my traditional yellow cake with pink fluffy frosting, and this chocolate peanut-butter cake. Would you believe me if I admitted that I forgot to take pictures again? I know. I guess that means I'll just have to make more cake so I can photograph it, right?

My birthday cake from 2009, incidentally the last birthday cake my grandma made for me. That cake is only two layers, guys. It's my dream to bake high cake layers.

We had several of our friends over at Jeff and Karen's for a little party, and it was lots and lots of fun.

For my entire birthday weekend I felt loved and special, exactly how you're supposed to feel on your birthday.

So far, 24 is a pretty good place to be.

seven cake pans

My senior year of college I bought some cake pans from the BYU craft store. They were kind of really dumb, but for a college student, they did the trick. Then later I used wedding money to buy nicer cake pans, and those were okay. When I was in Colorado, Mom pulled out Grandma's old cake pans, and I fell in love. They were heavy and used and stalwart (can cake pans be stalwart? I say yes). So I resolved to find some really nice cake pans like that.

Last weekend I pocketed some wedding gift cards to Crate & Barrel that I'd held off on spending and went out to buy three really nice cake pans—cake pans that look like my grandma's, just less used. (Mom said that I'll never regret having three nice cake pans. Ever.) Never mind that I already had four; these new ones are really nice. Like, lasting-through-my-lifetime nice. Like, I-don't-plan-on-ever-using-my-other-cake-pans-ever-again nice.

(I also bought a bright persimmon soap dispenser and a wedge server.)

After I got home I used these cake pans to make Edith James cake, which I'm thinking of renaming CJP cake (CJP = Charlotte Jane Petersen = my grandma = ultimate cake baker). And, hold your breath: it actually turned out. My Boston Cream Pie failure was avenged! I had to reach out to Miranda at one point when the frosting was freaking out, but we fixed it. {Sigh of immeasurable relief}

We'd eaten most of it by the time I took this picture. Obviously. It's not a pretty picture. But really, it wasn't a super pretty cake. The most important part was that it was a tasty cake.

So even though Josh gave me a weird look when I came home with three more cake pans, I know it's totally worth it. Just trust me.

PS—Every time I look in the mirror I'm surprised at my newly shortened hair.

Even though I'm not used to it yet, I love it.

an equation

An extra day off work +
cleaning the kitchen +
cleaning the bathroom +
doing the laundry +
vacuuming +
cleaning the fridge +
a clean dishwasher +
mopping +
folding the laundry +
packing +
six episodes of Gilmore Girls =
the perfect preparation for a vacation in Colorado.

Now that is my kind of math.

domestic battles

One of the things I most love about post–college graduation and marriage is the time I have to cultivate domesticity. I love wearing aprons and baking and sewing and decorating. We know this.

Lately, however, domesticity has been giving me a run for my money. I've had a few successes, but I have also lost several battles. Please review the following case studies.

01. The grease-stained shirt, possible points: 1
I bought a new taupe shirt from DownEast Basics, and I was really excited about it. I've been needing new basics, and this was perfect. My first time wearing it I was cooking pork chops and butter splattered from the pan onto my brand new shirt (lesson: always wear an apron). I washed it right away (like, I left the pork chops in the pan as I stripped through the kitchen to get my shirt in the wash), but the stains remained. After I tried Mom's suggestion to treat the stains with dish detergent, I ended up washing the shirt about five more times before the stains came out. But, they came out. In fact, I'm wearing the shirt today. Success.

02. The wraparound skirt, possible points: 2
Mom directed me to this really cute wraparound skirt pattern that was advertised as a one-hour project. I found the perfect fabric and, after a trip back to get more fabric after a cutting mishap, I went to town. I learned to hand-hem, because I don't like the blind-hem stitch on my machine. Using a dress Mom made me as a reference, I taught myself how to hem by hand, I was very pleased with the results. Success.

Then I set out Saturday night to finish it, and the waistband was completely backwards. The skirt ended up even less finished than when I started working on it. (One-hour project? False.) Failure.

03. The Boston Cream Pie, possible points, 4 (because ganache counts as 2, obviously)
The first thing I said to Josh as we got in the car to go home: "I hate the cake." I don't even think I'll save the leftovers.

Part A. The cake
I don't even want to talk about it. But I do, because I'm so mad. I looked up a sponge cake recipe from Cook's Illustrated, because how can they lead you astray, right? The cake turned out tough and holey. Cakes elude me, readers, and I really wish I could figure them out. Whenever I make them, they don't rise very high, and sometimes—like in this case—they actively seek to do me in. Failure.

Part B. The custard
This part worked out fine. I like making custard, and so far, it's never let me down. If you can't find me, chances are I'm watching Gilmore Girls and eating the leftover custard by the spoonful to drown the rest of my Boston Cream Pie failures. Success.

Part C. The ganache
Don't even get me started. I think this counts as negative two points actually. Every single time I've made ganache it turns out thick and smooth and delicious. This time it was runny and grainy. I couldn't even look at it. Failure.

Final tally: Domesticity— 4; Me—3

So maybe I'm not losing by as much as I thought I was. Domesticity is sometimes elusive, I've learned. And when I get frustrated I have to remind myself that my mom and grandma have had years and years more of domestic experience than I've had. And really, catching up to domesticity shouldn't be so hard when I'm only one point behind.

Wish me luck. And maybe volunteer to clean up the Boston Cream Pie that I'm ready to smash on the ground. Thanks.

the cutest investment

We got a modest return on our taxes this year, and with a small portion of that return I bought a KitchenAid. Seriously, guys, I haven't been this excited since Josh gave me my sewing machine last Christmas.

The first thing I did when it arrived on Thursday was to try my hand at bread baking (inspired especially by the Bread Brigade). Alas my first legitimate bread-baking effort was sabotaged by my forgetting an ingredient.

Saturday, though, I tried again, and was successful. And Sunday night I whipped up these delights for our young-married FHE group.

{Peanut butter, powdered sugar, butter, graham crackers all topped with melted chocolate--yes. Also, next time I'm going to substitute graham crackers with pretzels. Double yes.}

So clearly, I've already gotten a return on this investment. 

I've also felt an added meaning in my culinary domesticity lately since the first anniversary of my grandmother's death. She was an expert in the kitchen, especially in bread- and cake-making. Susan sent this sign to several of us in the family in remembrance of Grandma.

I think it a more-than-fitting tribute. I like to think that Grandma would be really excited about my pear green KitchenAid mixer. You can expect lots of baking to be happening at the Wilsons'.

the birthday cake

If you've tuned in within the past year, you might want to check out this post about Josh's birthday cake last year. I ended on mild success, but that success did not give me much confidence going into this year's cake. I'm baking in a new climate and the cake then was just for Josh and me, not a group. I felt the need to impress (I often feel this need and still am not quite sure what that says about me).

I thoroughly researched cake baking {again}. I read the entire cake section in The Joy of Cooking and all the tips in the Betty Crocker's Picture Cookbook. After consulting Josh on the cake he wanted this year, I decided to make the time-proven new popular devil's food cake from the Betty Crocker's Picture Cookbook, the chocolate cake my grandma and mom make, one of the cakes that has accompanied me through childhood and adolescent-hood and quasi-adulthood.

After my research I made the following adjustments to my baking method (and don't laugh at the obviousness of these implementations).

:: use the right sized pans for the cake recipe—I know
:: use cake flour instead of defaulting to the cheaper Gold Medal flour option
:: take out eggs and liquids early so they can rise to room temperature
:: use an oven thermometer so I know for sure I'm baking at the correct temperature

So Saturday night I began, a little apprehensive because if this cake failed I wouldn't really have time to redo it.

Imagine my relief when the cakes came out looking like this.

Sunday before heading over to Jeff and Karen's I had to make the frosting, white mountain frosting, the frosting staple of my formative years. And I was just as nervous for this part as I was for the actual cake-baking. White mountain frosting isn't guaranteed to set up every time, and Oregon not as dry a state as Colorado or Utah. I was nervous.

I meticulously followed the recipe, and after some serious egg-white whipping and a good measure of baking prayer (Grandma always said it's okay to pray over your cakes), the frosting set.

Such. relief.

What I'd like to change/investigate for next time:

:: How did Grandma (and Mom and every other cake baker I know, for that matter) get her cake layers so uniformly high?? If the tops of my cake layers were a representation of how high the whole layer was, I would be mindlessly giddy.
:: Double the frosting recipe.  I like my white mountain frosting plentiful on all sides, thank you very much. (Apparently I missed out on that Petersen-clan secret.)

Thankfully (oh so thankfully) the cake was a success at the birthday dinner. We took home the leftovers. And I may or may not have had cake for breakfast. And if you looked in my lunch bag today you'd see that I packed cake for dessert. Because lunch deserves dessert. Obviously.