This is my favorite kind of stupid-easy recipe. Not only is it truly stupid-easy, but it’s handed-down stupid-easy. It’s stupid-easy with history, People, and that’s the best kind!

I was given this recipe by my adopted grandmother. This woman is truly the embodiment of grandmotherly loveliness, and she’s a practiced hand in the kitchen. She makes this recipe a lot - as do I - because it’s both easy and versatile. One doesn’t need blueberries - one can use pretty much ANY yummy filler - or none at all; one can make a cake or a loaf or cupcakes; one can eat this as dessert or a snack or breakfast. Truly, it’s culinary acrobatics at its finest, and here’s how you do it:

Set your oven to 350° and either grease and flour your pans or line cupcake tins with papers and set aside. Cream together a stick of butter with one egg and a cup of sugar and set aside. Sift together 2 cups of flour, 2 teaspoons of baking powder and 1/2 teaspoon of salt, then pour, into a separate container (I use my Pyrex measuring cup), one cup of milk with a good blop of vanilla extract (the recipe calls for 1 teaspoon, but I’m SURE I use more than that; I never measure it and I have a particular affinity for vanilla). Bring the butter mixture back and add the flour and milk alternately until all the ingredients are combined. Fold in about 2 and 1/2 cups of blueberries (or whatever mix-in you’re adding) and turn the batter into whatever cooking vessel you’ve prepared. Sprinkle the top with sugar, if you’re into that sort of thing - and bake in the center of the oven for about 30 minutes for the loaf pan; your baking time will be decidedly less - only about 11 minutes or so - if you’re baking in a cake pan or cupcakes, so keep an eye on them. They are done with the toothpick test.

I make this most often with blueberries, but I’ve also had fantastical luck with cinnamon and brown sugar swirled through, chunks of peaches, strawberries, and even rhubarb and raspberries. It is a consistent winner, and I hope you enjoy it half as much as we do.

You want stupid-easy? Have I got a recipe for you!

This is our favorite way to make chicken on the grill when it’s too hot to even think about cooking indoors. Here’s what you do:

Get yourself a big bowl or a glass baking dish and slap in as much chicken as you want (we go boneless-skinless breasts, but you can certainly go with any variety of chicken pieces you want; I’m not bossy). Over this, pour enough lemon juice to get a good soak (I use the bottled stuff, but if you’re fussy enough to squeeze it fresh, be my guest), drizzle in a tiny bit of olive oil (truth be told, I often skip the oil; I don’t find it makes that much of a flavor or cooking difference), a big helping of minced garlic (again, mine comes from a bottle because, while I almost always HAVE fresh garlic around, my family isn’t as wild about it as I am. The jar of minced garlic I get at the market is just zippy enough for flavor, but tame enough to not raise noisy objections from my dinner companions), and a sprinkling of oregano. Cover the dish and let this soak anywhere from a half hour to a full day (don’t be alarmed if you leave the chicken to soak overnight and it looks weird when you come back to it. The acid in the lemon juice will actually start to “cook” the meat - despite how it looks, it’ll be super-yummy, believe me).

Heat up your grill - gas or charcoal, makes no difference - and cook the chicken until the internal temperature registers at least 160. You can eat this any way you want, but our favorite treatment is to slice the meat on a diagonal and spread it over a huge plate of greens, drizzled with O’Mama’s too-yummy salad dressing (the recipe for which can be found here).

*I’ll post a picture the next time we make this - we’re doing burgers tonight…*

YUM!

Mr. Chili’s favorite birthday cake is Boston Cream Pie. I believe it’s true that I’ve made him one every May 30th for the last three years in a row. While the recipe for Boston Cream Pie is a little fussy, it still qualifies as stupid-easy, so here we go.

For starters, I’ve yet to find a yellow cake recipe that I like as well as what I can get out of a box. Judge me not, my friends; I have no problem whipping up a scratch chocolate cake, but there’s something about that dense, heady vanilla flavor of a box yellow cake that I haven’t been able to adequately recreate, so Betty Crocker it is. I make two layers according to the package directions, then set them out to cool while I get on with the filling and the glaze.

I have always had a love/hate relationship with custard; I love to eat it, but I hate to make it. Well, let me amend that - I don’t HATE to make it, but it took me a long time to learn the technique of good custard-making (I failed it in home ec. classes in high school and had more than my fair share of split custards in my adulthood, too). I figured it out, though; here’s how you do it:

In a small bowl, beat two egg yolks together and set them aside. Combine 1/3 cup of sugar (I use a little more), 2 tablespoons of cornstarch (I sift the cornstarch through a little mesh strainer first, just to be sure there are no lumps that might give me trouble later in the process) and a pinch of salt in a sauce pan and stir in 1 1/2 cups of milk. Heat these over medium, stirring often, until the mixture comes just to a boil, then temporarily remove the pan from the heat (keep the burner on).

Scoop out a little of the hot mixture and, whisking constantly, drizzle it into the egg yolks. Then, scoop out a little more and repeat this process. When you’ve worked in about 1/3 of the hot stuff into the yolks, scrape them back into the saucepan and cook the whole thing together for about two and a half minutes - it should be thick and bubbly.

Remove the pan from the heat and pour the custard through a strainer into a bowl (you’ll have to coax the stuff through the mesh - it should be pretty thick by now). I stir in a little vanilla or, even better, vanilla paste at this point, then I put a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface of the custard and stash the bowl in the fridge to chill while I get on with the glaze.

Boston cream pie is covered with a simple ganache; and when I say “simple,” I mean it. Put one cup of milk or cream in the microwave or, if you don’t have a microwave - don’t snicker; I know a LOT of people who don’t - heat it on the stove just until it’s good and hot but not boiling (three minutes in the zapper works for me, or about five minutes on the stove). In the meantime, chop up about 12 ounces of good chocolate (or, alternately, about a cup and a half of chocolate chips). Pour the milk over the chocolate and let it sit for a moment or two, then start stirring; pretty soon, the whole mixture should be smooth and glossy. Set it aside to cool (sometimes I’ll put this in the fridge, but not often; getting it to room temperature is usually sufficient).

Put one of the cake layers on a plate, dump all of the cooled custard in a pile in the center, then put the other layer on top and gently press until the custard starts to ooze out the sides. Pour the ganache over, stick in some candles, and make a wish!

The only thing you should be aware of is that once this cake is cut, it’s photogenic days are over. The top of the cake WILL slide off the bottom if given a chance (we came downstairs the next morning to find this had happened) and because the custard is made with egg yolks, it’ll go bad pretty quickly if not kept refrigerated. I don’t think this will be a problem, though; it probably won’t last that long, anyway.

YUM!

Several years ago, I made a chocolate cake for my daughter’s birthday. Nothing special, really - just a chocolate cake that I was intending to frost with chocolate frosting.

You know what they say about intentions and the road to hell, right?

I’m not sure how it happened, but the cake would not come out of the pans. YES, I greased and floured the pans; I’m a Goddess in the Kitchen, remember? For whatever reason - whether the oven temperature was off or the humidity was wrong or the moon was in retrograde - those cakes dug in and hung on, and the only way I could get them out of the pans was in pieces.

There I was with a recipe’s worth of cake bits. Frustrated, but entirely undaunted (by then, I’d learned to look at challenges as just that - challenges - and to not let myself get too worked up), I came up with a plan. I further crumbled the bits and put them in a glass dish. Then I put together a couple of batches of chocolate pudding; the cook-and-serve kind because, really? Instant? Not so much. (And yes, I use pudding mixes. Like brownies, the stuff from the box just comes out consistently better.) Once the pudding had chilled, I folded it into the cake bits, blopped a little bit of whipped cream on top and voilla! Muddy Dirt Cake. Though it wasn’t PRETTY, the dirt cake went over HUGE with the under-five set. The grown-ups seemed to like it pretty well, too.

I’ve made this cake on purpose several times since then. Sometimes I use boxed cake mix, sometimes I start from scratch, but I always use Jello or Royal cook and serve chocolate pudding for the “mud” component. My family doesn’t require theatrics, but if they did, I would pretty this up by serving it in a clean (preferably glazed) flower pot and sticking either sugared or silk flowers in. You could make it more kid-friendly (as if it’s not enough already!) by mixing in some gummy worms and putting some candy bugs on the top. Either way, this is stupid-easy yumminess at its finest.

Edited to include this photo of Punkin’ Pie’s 11th birthday cake, complete with silk flowers and gummy worms.  The girls came to the table and didn’t know where the cake was until I pointed it out to them.  It was a HUGE hit:

I’m trying to be more mindful about what I eat. Since my work schedule is really interfering with my exercise routine, and since I’m currently exerting about 25 more pounds of force on the Earth than I’m comfortable with, I’ve decided to start being far more discriminating about what I do or do not eat. To that end, I’ve started eating a lot more greens.

Now, I have been - in the past, mind you - the kind of person who’s ALWAYS been happy to eat salad because I used all those lovely veggies merely as vehicles for dressing: usually Italian dressing, and usually a lot of it. Of course, that paradigm isn’t going to do anything about helping me meet my healthy eating goals, so I’ve had to come up with a way to change the way I approach a bowl of lettuce. What I need is a dressing that can be drizzled sparingly, but that packs a wallop of flavor.

Enter my dear friend, Organic Mama. She and I share not only a passion for language, but a passion for cooking, as well. She’s been inviting me to her Passover Seders for years now, and every year she indulges me by serving this dressing with the salads. It’s SERIOUS yumminess, it’s kicky enough to get me through a field of greens with as little as a tablespoon or so of dressing, and it really needs to be shared.

1/2 cup olive oil
1/6 Balsamic vinegar
1/6 apple cider vinegar
3 tablespoons maple syrup
1 tablespoon stone ground mustard
1 clove crushed garlic
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
salt to taste

Mix all ingredients together in a carafe or jar with a tight fitting lid and shake it well. I alter the recipe both by doubling it (it’s easier to pour out 1/3 of a cup of the vinegars than to figure out how much 1/6 would look like) and by grating the garlic cloves instead of crushing them; I’m overly fond of garlic, and I find that grating it allows the garlic to more uniformly float in the suspension. I often forget the salt and pepper, too, but I’ve not found that to diminish the yumminess in any way, shape, or fashion.

Enjoy!!

A few years ago, I took a graduate class titled “Literature in Early America.” The class was taught by an amiable professor who also happens to be one of the country’s leading experts in Shaker history, literature, and culture. The class covered a whole lot of other literary traditions, but that little group figured heavily into the mix.

The class was a lot of fun, not only because the professor was a lot of fun, but because he was genuinely interested in allowing us to learn in ways that made sense to us; he didn’t prescribe assignments so much as make suggestions for our investigation. For example, one of the projects he offered up was a gravestone study. We studied the art and iconography of colonial gravestones! In a LIT class! It was fantastic! I got to research on of my (adopted) ancestor’s stones in a nearby town and wrote quite convincingly that his stone was more ornate and larger than his parents’ simple carved boulders because he managed to achieve a much higher status in the community; he became a Supreme Court judge - one of the first in the colony.

But I digress…

The final project for the class was left almost entirely up to the discretion of the student, and I decided that I would study the Shakers. We have a couple of Shaker villages in New England - one of which is still a living community - and I’ve always been interested in their art and, more importantly, their cuisine. I came up with the idea to do my final project around a Shaker meal, that I would cook for my class, and relate the idea of cooking to the foundation and maintenance of family. In Shaker tradition, the group is considered a family, and that concept of relation is essential to their community and their faith. I would investigate how cooking and sharing meals together helps to create and strengthen familial bonds, and then connect all that to some poetry and songs that the Shakers hold as foundational to their faith.

My professor loved the idea (as did my classmates, who were looking forward to a home-cooked meal in class). After an introduction to Sister Frances through my professor, I was invited to spend a day in the kitchen, helping her prepare the noon meal for the family. We talked about her history in the kitchen, we talked about my children and my schooling and my plans to be a teacher (doesn’t she just look like a friendly grandma who would ask me about such things?). We baked chickens and peeled potatoes. We set the table, said prayers with the family, and ate together. We had a lovely afternoon and, when it was all over, I left with a couple of recipes and some memories that I pull out every spring around rhubarb season.

One of the recipes I was given was this one. It’s for a quick bread whose main flavors are rhubarb and pecan, and it’s fantastically yummy (and easy; remember what I said about how much I love yummy and easy?). Because good things should ALWAYS be shared, I’m sharing this - another of my favorite recipes - with you.

Rhubarb Pecan Bread

Preset your oven to 350•

1 1/2c brown sugar
1 beaten egg
2/3c vegetable oil

Combine these in a large bowl and set aside.

1t baking soda
1t vanilla
1c buttermilk
1t salt

Whisk these together in a measuring bowl.

Measure out 2 1/2 c flour and add to the sugar, egg, and oil, alternating with the milk mixture.

Stir in 1/2c chopped pecans and 1 1/2c chopped rhubarb (I usually add more rhubarb than that, but that’s just me).

Pour into greased and floured pans, sprinkle with sugar, and bake 1 hour or until the loaves test done. I tend to bake these in mini-loaf pans, so they’re portable and giftable.

(*I nailed the final assignment. I brought in Shaker fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans and scallions, the rhubarb bread and a Mother Ann cake. How could I POSSIBLY get a bad grade for that?)

As many of you know, I spent this past weekend with my blogging friends Bo and Saintseester in their home state of Alabama.  I had a amazing time, and they fed me very, very well.  Here is the first in a series of recipes I’m going to post about my gastronomical adventures in the Southland (no recipes for collard greens, though, so don’t panic).  I hope you try them, and that you enjoy them as heartily as I did.

Today’s post is one of the incredibly yummy things that Seester offered us for Sunday brunch.

This was, I’m pretty sure, my first exposure to grits, and my thinking is that it won’t be my last.  The notes in the recipe are Seester’s:

Sausage & Cheese Grits Casserole

4 ½ cups water (I used a little less)
¾ stick butter or margarine
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup quick grits
2 cups shredded cheddar cheese (divided)
½ cup grated parmesan cheese
¾ cup milk
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
2 (12 oz tubes) packages maple-flavored pork sausage

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Spray a 13×9x2 baking dish with cooking spray.

In heavy large saucepan, heat water, butter and salt on high until it boils.  Stir in grits, reduce heat. Simmer for 15 minutes or until grits are creamy, stirring occasionally.

While grits are simmering, brown sausage.  Drain.

Stir in 1 cup cheddar cheese and parmesan cheese until melted. Stir in milk and eggs.  Stir browned sausage into grits mixture.  Pour into prepared dish. Bake for 1 hour or until a knife inserted comes out almost clean.

Sprinkle remaining 1 cup cheddar over top. Back for 2 more minutes, until cheese is melted.

I have found this recipe to be a little bit thin when it first comes out of the oven. Sometimes I let it sit before serving to give it a chance to thicken.

Otherwise known as quiche.

The dictionary defines quiche as a pie-like dish consisting of an unsweetened pastry shell filled with a custard and usually containing cheese and other ingredients, as vegetables, seafood, or ham. Pretty much all of my cookbooks say about the same thing.

Since Organic Mama bought WAY more eggs than she needed for the fixings for her daughter’s bat mitzvah, she needs some good, egg-intensive dishes. For her, I’m posting my favorite quiche recipe.

I don’t fuss with crust. I find that I can never get both the quiche and the crust done quite to my liking, so I skip the crust part altogether. I make up for this by serving my quiche with some sort of hearty bread - usually a crusty French bread accompanied by a little too much butter.

If you DO want to have a crusted quiche, make (or buy) enough pie dough for a 9-inch pan. Dock the pastry (poke it full of little holes with a fork), weight it down with pie weights or dried beans, and pre-bake it in a 375° oven for about 30 minutes. Remove the crust and allow it to cool completely, and turn the oven down to 300°.

If you choose NOT to fuss with crust, butter a 9-inch pie plate and set it aside. Beat together 4 eggs with 2 cups of light cream (the dairy you use can be varied to your liking and/or what happens to be in your fridge at the moment). To this, stir in a pinch of salt and a grind or two of pepper and set aside.

In the bottom of your pie plate (or, alternately, in your pre-baked and cooled crust), put whatever extras you’d like to have in your quiche. My personal favorites are stewed tomatoes, onion and bacon (both the onion and the bacon having been cooked together over medium heat until soft and crisp, respectively), then a little too much grated sharp Cheddar cheese. Really, though, the possibilities are just about endless: spinach and goat cheese or feta, asparagus and gruyere, ham and swiss- really, let your imagination go. Here, for example, we have tonight’s offering; turkey ham, diced red onion, and chopped asparagus with Cheddar:

I sometimes use quiche as a “fridge-purge” dish; I’ll root around in my refrigerator and come up with all kinds of interesting combinations. As far as quantities for the extras go, use your best judgment. About a half cup of each (maybe a little heavier on the cheese) for a 9 inch pie pan would probably do it.

On top of your extras, gently pour over the egg and cream, sprinkle over more of your cheese (if you have any left over), and bake in the center of a pre-heated 300° oven and bake 30-45 minutes, or until the quiche is slightly browned and set (if you’re using a crust and it starts to brown too much, as it’s likely to do, make a little ring of tin foil to shield it). How long it takes will depend on how deep the pie plate is and the accuracy of your oven’s thermostat. I do a doneness test by poking the center of the quiche with a knife; if the knife comes out mostly clean, we’re in business.

Let the quiche cool for about 10 minutes - it’ll slice more cooperatively that way - and serve hot or cold. Honestly, I tend to at least double this recipe and make the quiche in a buttered, rectangular glass cake pan - one little pie never seems sufficient, especially since it fridges so well and makes for a fantastic next-day lunch.

Our favorite accompaniment to quiche is a dark green salad tossed with some sort of zingy vinaigrette, but that’s just us.

YUM!

*I changed the cooking directions from the original suggestion.  Cooking a custard too fast will cause it to split - you’ll end up with what amounts to essentially scrambled eggs floating in a puddle of water.  Low and slow is the way to go with custards.  Your patience will be rewarded, Grasshopper…*

I was going to wait until summer to publish this post - barbecue really is a summertime dish, I think - but Doc went and started a conversation about barbecue over at his place, and I threatened to start a fight by posting my recipe. Never let it be said that Chili doesn’t put up when she speaks up, so here it is.

Depending on the source, I either get a lot of crap or a lot of praise for my homemade barbecue sauce. My immediate family - up to and including the Bowyer clan - loves it. Those outside of my circle aren’t as easy a sell, though. Barbecue sauce is one of those highly personal preferences, I think; if it’s not exactly what you think “good” barbecue sauce is, then it’s just not good. I like a lot of barbecue sauces - mostly from restaurants; the stuff in bottles always tastes like I imagine burned plastic would taste - but I really do think my sauce is at least as good as any of those slathered on restaurant ribs. Of course, I’m a little biased, so take my opinion for what it’s worth.

I made this recipe up ENTIRELY out of my head; there is no place to lay credit for this as an original or an inspiration. Here it is:

Take half a pound of hickory smoked bacon and cut it into small pieces (I don’t bother peeling the rashers away from each other; there’s no need for that kind of fussiness). Drop the pieces into the bowl of a food processor and blitz them until they form a paste. Scrape this into a medium-large sauce pan, then drop a medium-to-large, quartered yellow onion into the food processor and blitz that until it’s mush. Scrape the onion into the bacon, turn the heat to medium, and cook the whole mess, stirring occasionally, for about 10 minutes (and trust me, it’s a mess - at this point, the recipe really resembles nothing so much as a pot full of vomit. Were it not for the gorgeous smell of bacon and onions - two of my favorite things - I literally might not be able to make it past this step).

Once the bacon is cooked through (it won’t get brown - or, rather, it shouldn’t - but after ten minutes over medium heat, it should be sufficiently cooked), upend a bottle of Heinz tomato ketchup into the pot and turn the heat down; it’s going to blop and burble all over your stove if you don’t. I usually use most of a standard size bottle (and I’m sorry, but all I have in my fridge at this moment is a “family size” bottle, so I don’t really know what the “standard” size is. Besides, I do all this by eye (and tongue), anyway, if you’ve not already guessed from my oh-so-precise measurements). Scoop in a few tablespoons of brown sugar (more or less, depending on your fancy), a shake or two of cayenne pepper (more or less, depending on your fancy) and a few tablespoons of mustard (again, more or less…) into the sauce. Stir it all together and let it simmer for about 10 minutes, then go back and taste it again, adjusting for sweetness or spice as you see fit.

That’s it!!

This stuff freezes beautifully. Because of all the vinegar in the ketchup, it never really gets ice-cube hard - it settles into a consistency not unlike fruit sorbet - so I find I can spoon out just what I need without having to defrost the whole batch. My most common use for this is “pulled chicken” sandwiches: I poach a few chicken breasts, shred the meat with forks, then stir it around in a little too much sauce and serve it in toasted bulky rolls with chips and (if I’ve got some) cole slaw.

YUM!

In honor of my younger daughter’s ninth birthday, I offer you the recipe for her favorite dinner; macaroni and cheese.

Once I figured out how yummy and stupid-easy it was to make mac-and-cheese from scratch, I’ve never since bought a box of the orange stuff. Seriously, you can have the sauce made in the time it takes the elbows to boil, and buying pre-grated cheese takes all of the “work” out of this process.

The recipe as it appears on the back of the Prince elbow macaroni box - my main inspiration for this dish - is as follows:

Preheat the oven to 350°.

Cook 8 oz of elbows according to package directions (boil in 3 quarts of water and 2 teaspoons of salt for 6-8 minutes, depending on desired firmness). Drain and set aside.

In a medium saucepan over medium heat, melt 3 tablespoons of butter, then stir in 3 tablespoons of all-purpose flour. Carefully stir in 2 1/2 cups milk and cook, stirring constantly, until sauce thickens. Add 1/4 cup minced onions and 2 cups of shredded Cheddar cheese and stir until cheese melts. Season with 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/8 teaspoon of pepper. Mix sauce into elbows, pour into a buttered 2-quart baking dish, top with 1/2 cup of bread crumbs and bake for 30 minutes.

I alter that recipe quite a bit, actually. For starters, I double the sauce; there’s really not enough sauce in the original, especially if you’re going to have leftovers the next day. I cook slightly less onion than is called for in a doubled batch, minced almost to invisibility, in the butter, then I stir in the flour and cook the mess together for a good 4 minutes or so, just to make sure the raw flour taste is cooked out. I heat the milk in the microwave for a bit, too, which makes its integration into the roux much easier. I leave the salt and pepper out altogether and add about half again as much cheese as is called for (and I use the good stuff, too; Cabot Hunter Cheddar). Finally, I toast the bread crumbs (a combination of Italian-seasoned and panko) in a little butter before putting them on top of the dish and popping it in the oven. I suppose one could also sprinkle shredded cheese on top of the crumbs, but any that I save over to do that gets eaten by passing children and husbands (and the occasional kitty cat).

For reasons I can’t explain, we almost always serve green beans with anything with Cheddar as its main component. The original recipe is supposed to make 4-6 servings, but the doubled version feeds the four of us with enough left over for a healthy lunch the next day.

YUM!