Clockwise from top left:
1. The Pasta Salad – From “A Taste of NPS”, a collaborative cookbook my mom bought 20 years ago
2. CPK’s BBQ Chicken Pizza – Tasty Kitchen/The Pioneer Woman
3. Chicken Fried Rice – Tasty Kitchen/The Pioneer Woman
4. Asian Noodle Salad – Tasty Kitchen/The Pioneer Woman

Clockwise from top left
1. & 2. Marcella Hazan 3 Ingredient Tomato Sauce – Steamy Kitchen
3. Espinacas con Garbanzos – Smitten Kitchen
4. Thai Chicken Pizza – Rachael Ray

We didn’t eat fast food ONCE this past week. For the record, they were ALL delicious. E ate everything, including the chickpeas.

Bullet point 1: I am writing this in the fastest possible way, since my laptop is seconds away from conking out completely thanks to one small person’s habit of ripping the power cord out. It’s now broken and won’t charge at all. New power cord is on its way, until then consider these my last words to you. FAREWELL CRUEL WORLD.

Bullet point 2: You’d think I had some sort of brain damage or been dropped on my head and suffered severe memory loss from all the wailing and complaining I’ve done over Baby Evan’s teething woes. His molars are certainly not his first teeth ever and we got through the last ones relatively unscathed with Tylenol, teething tablets, camila and an amber necklace. All of those have again been located and I have high hopes that in the next 48 hours we will no longer be a family of exhausted, screaming zombies.

Bullet point 3: Although it cost us more than we wanted/could afford to spend, our new kitchen island is already the best investment we’ve ever made. My counter space has literally DOUBLED and my cabinets are no longer overflowing with small appliances that threaten to fall on my head as soon as I reach for a cookbook or a Tupperware container.

Observe:

A reminder of what the space used to be: a giant suck of shoes and crap. Only you can't really tell in this picture since it's from the home tour, when I hid all our junk.

A more accurate view of the space, after the Great Electrical Outlet Incident of 2010

And now we have this. The drawers AND the cabinet have no-slam hardware so never again will the baby pinch his fingers. We're living the high life, let me tell you.

The back side of the island, where we can put a couple of stools. Which means a) we now have an EAT-IN KITCHEN and b) We aren't doomed to eat on the couch for the rest of our lives. Also c) I get to go to IKEA for some stool shopping.

Look at all that space. Fantastic. I have the urge to bake a dozen pies. Or maybe just lick it. Oh and in case you were wondering, it's Corian, which I've always been very happy with.

This also means I have enough space to designate one drawer as specifically for Baby Evan. A Baby Evan drawer, if you will, full of plastic cookie cutters, old whisks, and sippy cups. No more spatula emergencies half way through making dinner when I realize they are all covered in dog hair and drool.

This may not be the kind of island most exhausted mothers dream of, but home improvement beats vacation around here every time. It lasts longer and you don’t end up with a sunburn or sand up your butt. At least, not so far.

I should also give a HUGE shout out to the kitchen guy, Jim from Roger’s Kitchens. His attention to detail in installing the island in a really awkward space was AMAZING and he didn’t complain once about our uneven floor, crooked walls or weird moldings. He was on time both days and cleaned up every speck of dust. He was even great with Baby Evan! This isn’t an endorsed plug  in any way (not even close – we paid full retail price for that VERY EXPENSIVE island) but I think a good job done deserves some recognition. If you’re in the Eastern Connecticut area and need a recommendation for a custom kitchen guy, now you have one. Roger’s Kitchens. Love.

I’m going crazy cleaning and finishing all the decorations for Baby Evan’s 1st birthday next weekend so I’m a little lacking in the creative department right now. Although I have no aspirations to be the ACTUAL Pioneer Woman, this is my attempt at a PW style recipe post, hence the eighty bazillion pictures. Please to enjoy.

Like I’ve said before (just this week actually) I am not a very good cook. I am, however, a more than decent baker. In fact, I once won first prize at the Ledyard Town Fair for my two crust apple pie and went on to do fairly well in the state-wide competition. Considering I was the only entrant under the age of 50 I’m just pleased I wasn’t last. It helped that I lived in an honest to God apple orchard at the time. Being able to bake with fruit that was still growing just minutes before I peeled it definitely gave me the motivation to really perfect my pie.

Since a regular old two-crust is old news, I’m always on the look out for new apple pie recipes. I recently heard about buttermilk pies and was intrigued. I’ve never been exactly sure what buttermilk is (sour milk? unfinished yogurt?) or what it’s for (biscuits? pancakes?) but when I found this recipe that claimed it turned into CUSTARD I knew I had to try it. CUSTARD is one of the top three things I absolutely cannot resist in a dessert, along with meringue and lemon curd. Oh and graham cracker crusts. Or key limes. And marzipan. Ok, I just REALLY like dessert. But this pie is special. Really special. From the pastry crust to the sugar topping it is delicious and sweet and tart and creamy and SO GOOD I almost divorced my husband when he tried to eat the last piece without sharing.

I highly recommend this pie. Or you could just invite yourself over for dinner and I’ll make it for you.

Apple-Buttermilk Custard Pie
Adapted from Cooking Light (and when I say adapted, I mean I made it a lot less “light”)

Crust*
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup shortening
4-5 tablespoons ice cold water

Throw the flour and salt in a mixing bowl. Toss in the shortening too and then mash it up with a fork until it’s in little pieces. Don’t mix it TOO well, since the little pieces of shortening in the crust is what makes it flaky. Add cold water about a tablespoon at a time until the dough is sticky enough to hold together. Do most of your mixing with the fork but make sure you test it by squishing it together with your hands or you’ll end up adding too much water.

Sometimes I just make pie crust and eat it without baking a pie. I know it's weird.

Streusel Topping:
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 tablespoons chilled butter

Filling:
5 cups sliced peeled apples**
1 tablespoon butter
1 cup granulates sugar, divided
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
2 tablespoons flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 3/4 cups buttermilk***
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Roll out the dough large enough to fit in a 9-inch deep dish**** pie plate. Try not to handle the crust any more than you have to, the less touching you do the better it ends up.

I got this Roulpat mat just this week and it made my pie crust sooooo much easier to roll out. I didn't have to add any extra flour to keep it from sticking so the crust was super flaky.

Fold over the edges and pinch them to make a fluted edge.

I once bought a fancy fluted edge maker. It was crappy. Just use your fingers.

To prepare the streusel, lightly spoon 1/3 cup flour into a measuring cup. Combine the flour, brown sugar and 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon in a medium bowl. Cut in butter with a fork (or pastry blender, if you’re fancy) until mixture is all mealy. Put it in the fridge.

Try to resist eating all the sugar-butter right out of the bowl.

Preheat over to 325 degrees.

To prepare the filling, heat a large skillet to medium heat and throw in the butter. Add sliced apple, 1/4 cup granulated sugar, 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, and 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg. Cook for about 10 minutes, or until apples are tender.

My apples are sliced into little rings like that because I use an apple peeler-corer-slicer that attaches to my countertop. It's an absolute necessity if you plan to make more than one apple pie a year.

Pour into prepared crust.

Mmmmmm....appley goodness.

Combine 3/4 cup granulated sugar, 2 tablespoons flour, salt and eggs, stir with a whisk. Add buttermilk and vanilla, and stir a little more.

I had to steal this whisk from the baby. He LOVES whisks. Is that weird?

Pour over apple mixture.

Yikes, that's a full pie!

Bake at 325 degrees for 30 minutes. Reduce over temperature to 300 degrees (do not remove pie) and sprinkle streusel topping over filling.

Try to sprinkle it around evenly, but it doesn't really matter since all the butter melts anyways.

Bake at 300 degrees for 40 minutes or until pie is set. Let stand 1 hour before serving.*****

All puffed up right out of the oven. DON'T EAT IT YET.

*The original recipe suggests using a store-bought crust, which I personally consider just plain un-American. Only communists use store-bought crust. Communists who kick puppies and burn flags and hate freedom and don’t want to find a cure for cancer OR save the whales. But really, my recipe for pie crust is the easiest thing in the world and impossible to do wrong. At least try it before using the crap from a box.

My pie crust/pie recipes - as you can see they've been well loved

**Granny Smith is the most popular pie apple but unfortunately they don’t grow here in New England. When apples are in season I prefer Cortlands or Mutsus. Just try to avoid Macintosh in pies since they cook down really quickly and you end up with mush.

***The “light” version calls for fat-free buttermilk but my grocery store didn’t have fat free (OH DARN) so I used low-fat. I’ve had trouble finding buttermilk at all at some grocery stores so just use whatever you can get.

****My pie plate is NOT “deep” so I just built up the edge of the crust. It still came really really close to overflowing. I recommend using an actual deep-dish plate.

*****NO REALLY, LET IT SIT. If you don’t the custard is all runny and soupy. I KNOW it looks delicious and I KNOW you just baked a whole pie all by yourself and you deserve to eat a huge chunk right now but it will be even better in an hour. For the record, my recipe says “Yields 10 servings”, but I think they’re talking about doll-servings. It yields 8 actual person sized servings, but you’ll probably eat two pieces at a time, so at least try to save some to share later.

OK, NOW you can eat it. Better hurry though, looks like someone else already started.

One of the reasons I’m not a very good cook is I’ve never had somewhere really great to practice. At least that’s what I tell myself. Growing up my mom was always shooing us kids out of smallish kitchens while she cooked since little people underfoot while you chop and boil and bake and heat is a good way to end up in the emergency room. Since I never loved cooking I never focused much on kitchens when I picked out apartments and until recently would have sacrificed everything but a fridge and a microwave for a walk-in closet. When I first saw the house we live in now, I fell in love with the hardwood floors to the incredible mouldings to the front porch…and was THRILLED with the newly remodeled kitchen. Stainless steel appliances! Corian counters! Ceiling height cabinets! A gorgeous stone tile backsplash! It’s so PRETTY and SHINY and FULL OF CHARACTER I knew I would just love baking pies and boiling water (my specialties) while admiring the grape arbor out the window.

Unfortunately, I soon realized “full of character” is the real estate term for “almost no counter space” and “nowhere to put the mail” and “where the **** am I supposed to keep any FOOD?!” Over the years I’ve tried adding tables, carts, baskets, chairs, hooks and bowls in various places but nothing has helped control and organize the overflow of junk. It’s gotten worse since the baby, since my diaper bag and camera have permanent homes on the counter by the back door and when I come in carrying a baby everything else just gets DUMPED. Even when the kitchen is super clean (which, honestly, it almost never is) I only have about three feet of counter top to make dinner on, divided in the middle by the stove. I’ve set more than one pot holder on fire because I was using the stove top as a work surface. Setting things on fire is NOT GOOD when you have a toddler.

Since we won’t be moving in the next couple of years, I finally decided it was time for a permanent solution to my lack of counter space. Lucky for me the guy who did the original kitchen remodel left his name and contact info under the sink. Lucky for HIM the custom cabinets he put in are impossible to get anywhere else so we’re trading him our first born for an island/peninsula/breakfast bar thing. Well, we tried to trade him our first born but with the economy as bad as it is right now he wanted cash instead. Babies just aren’t worth what they used to be. Luckily, we had saved a little of our tax return for home repairs (in case we did have to put the house on the market) and I convinced E it would be best spent on this project. I may have also promised a large number of homemade meals, cookies and pies IF ONLY I HAD THE COUNTER SPACE TO MAKE THEM. I guess it’s time to dust off those cookbooks.

Unfortunately, it’s going to take at least two months before the elves hobbits blind nuns cabinet…eers? make the cabinets and then another week to get a big slab of countertop in so until then I’ll just have to try not to burn the house down with a tea towel. Wish me luck.

Dinners in our house fall into two three categories:

1. Real meals using recipes I’ve marked in cookbooks/torn out of magazines/found on food porn websites and involve complicated grocery lists, several pots and pans, and careful measuring.
2. Stuff with ground beef.
3. Fast food.

I’ve never considered myself much of a cook, even when it comes to casual family type meals. I’m intimidated by all aspects of cooking, from chopping vegetables to knowing if the meat is done, to adding a “pinch” of anything. Cooking is art – the balance, the nuance, the improvisation – and art has never been my strong suit. Baking, however, is science, and baking is my friend. It’s exact, it’s chemistry, 2 cups flour, 1 tsp salt, 40 minutes at 350 degrees. I can bake anything you can write a recipe for, even if I end up using a wine bottle as a rolling pin and a light bulb powered oven.

So my anxiety levels always get very high right around 4 pm when it’s time to start thinking about what’s for dinner. I’ve tried making meal plans, with one epic trip to the grocery store for a week’s worth of ingredients, but invariably something isn’t in stock or the potatoes start molding before I get to them or no one really FEELS like having chicken again so why don’t we just have a pizza delivery…and the whole thing falls apart. I’ve tried deciding what’s for dinner at 3 pm and making the Stop & Shop run once E gets home and I can pop in and out without the baby, but I always come home with a cart full of avocados, Pad Thai in a box, brownie mix, and oranges. Which, surprisingly, are NOT the ingredients for tacos. Or anything else. So one of us runs out and grabs burgers and fries and I sit on the couch hating myself for eating that junk again.

My other obstacle to cooking is my super picky husband. If you’ve ever tried to eat a meal with him, you probably already know how he feels about mushrooms (FUNGUS ISN’T FOOD), which rules out about half the recipes in both of my trusty, easy to follow Rachel Ray cookbooks. He also hates olives (no Mediterranean food), curry (no Indian food), pretty much anything green (no vegetables) and soup. Yes, soup. And chili. Seriously, if you ever consider marrying someone, FIND OUT IF THEY EAT SOUP before accepting a proposal. I’ve done a pretty good job expanding E’s previously even more ridiculously limited diet – for example, he now eats fish – but nothing is more frustrating than making a nice dinner and discovering he hates it after two bites. A few times I’ve just made whatever I felt like making and told E “if you don’t like it, don’t eat it” and left him to forage for himself…but I always feel guilty because dinner falls under my tasks per our very delicately negotiated household responsibility list and feeding both of us shouldn’t be that hard. But my cookbooks have all been read and bookmarked and my list of family approved recipes is still woefully short.

It’s times like this that I really admire my mother and her ability to get a home cooked meal on the table every single night, without a single frozen lasagna in my memories. The only chance of that happening in my house is if I win the lottery and hire a personal chef. Or if I legally adopt the pizza delivery guy.