Frozen Chocolate Banana Pops

Credit to my brother for this one, which is kind of fun, and really good. Just don't tell mom about the coconut oil (it's just a little smidge, really). The coconut oil allows the chocolate to melt all smooth like, but then solidify quickly and evenly on the frozen banana.

There really is something kind of magical about freezing something on a stick. Seriously, you should try it. You inner sense of childlike wonder will be amazed.



Have you ever frozen anything awesome on a stick to snack on? Tell us about it.


Frozen Chocolate Banana Pops

Ingredients

• 6 bananas, cut in half
• 12 skewers (you can probably cut the long ones in half, just fine)
• 1 1/4 cup chocolate chips
• 3/4 cup coconut oil.
• optional: chopped nuts, for coating

Put each peeled banana half on a skewer, and quickly insert in the freezer on a wax-paper lined tray. Freeze overnight.

When ready to serve, melt the chocolate and coconut oil in a double-boiler over simmering water. Whisk until smooth, and then pour into a tall, narrow glass.

Take the bananas out of the freezer. Remove any visible ice buildup on the outside. Gently dip the bananas into the chocolate, twisting them gently as you remove them. If adding nuts, pour the nuts on immediately after removing from the chocolate (it hardens very quickly). Let them cool right-side up (we jabbed the skewers into a styrofoam block, and that worked well).

Creamed Peas on Toast

This recipe is retro. I have no idea if they ate this in the 50's, but to me it kind of seems like something a suburban housewife in a high-waisted plaid skirt would make for her accountant, skinny-tie and chunky glasses-wearing husband to eat watching TV and a mustard sofa. But in all honesty, I can just barely remember the mid-80's, so I really don't know. Most of that mental image is probably based on my last watching of "Edward Scissorhands," which is an amazing movie (although it scared me to death until I was probably 21 years old).

My mom used to make a recipe similar to this quite often, and there is a sentimental place in my heart for it. So maybe it's more retro to the early 90's than the mid 50's, but in any case, it's good and filling.

The other day I realized it had been quite some time since eating a vegetable (these things happen in a bachelor grad student's home occasionally), and looking around the fridge and freezer, this was the solution. If I wanted a healthy, and nutritious dinner, obviously the solution was to cover vegetables with cream, butter, and cheese sauce. Healthy and happy. Mmmm good.

Creamed Peas on Toast


Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1 clove, minced garlic
  
• 2 heaping tablespoons flour
• about 1 cup milk (I used about 1/2 milk and 1/2 half-and-half, which I had in the fridge)
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
  
• 1 pound frozen peas
• 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese
• 2 tablespoons chopped chives
• salt and pepper, to taste
• Toasted bread slices
  

Heat the butter and olive oil in a flat-bottomed saucepan over medium heat. Saute the garlic until slightly browned. Add the flour, and stir until it becomes a smooth paste. Add about 3/4 cup of the milk and stir or whisk well until smooth. Add additional milk or cream until the desired thickness (you want it thick, but not soupy). Add the lemon juice.

Add the peas and stir until heated through, but not mushy. Add the cheese and chives, and stir until the cheese is melted and incorporated. Salt and pepper to taste. Serve on toast, or as a side dish.

Creamy Chicken Enchiladas

Kids, these don't even pretend to be authentic. Not even a little bit. I'm just shooting for "good." These enchiladas pack a creamy punch, let me tell you. Perhaps a little too creamy (if such a thing is possible), so be judicious with the sour cream.

I chose to use chicken thighs rather than the traditional chicken breasts, because I liked the richer flavor of the dark meat. However, with the richness of the sauce, you may prefer all white meat. Do whatever you want; I trust you.

You can serve with guacamole and other south-of-the-border (referring to Canada's border) fixins'.


Creamy Chicken Enchiladas

• about 2 pounds chicken thighs, skin and bones still on (they cook better, I promise)
  
• a few tablespoons olive oil
  
• 1 large, sweet onion, finely chopped
• 1 small can diced green chilies
• 2 cans cream of chicken soup
• 1 soup-can of milk
• 2 large dollops sour cream
• several sprigs fresh cilantro, finely chopped
• 10-13 medium tortillas
• A generous amount of shredded cheese
• salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Brown the chicken on both sides in a flat-bottomed saute pan in the olive oil over medium-high heat (a few minutes each side). Transfer the chicken to a 9 by 13 inch pan, and bake in the oven for about 30 minutes, until golden and juices run clear. Set aside.

While the chicken is in the oven, return the saute pan to the stove, and add the onions and green chilies. Saute until soft. When the chicken is done cooking, remove the flesh from the bone, and shred it into the onion and chilies in the pan. Season with salt and pepper

In a seperate mixing bowl, combine the soup, milk, sour cream, and cilantro. Whisk until smooth. Add about 1/3 of the mixture to the onions and chicken in the saute pan, and stir to coat.

Reusing the same 9 by 13 inch pan you used for the chicken, coat the bottom of the pan with some of the soup mixture. Scoop a few spoonfuls of the chicken and onions mixture into a tortilla, wrap, and place in the pan. Repeat until the pan is full (probably about 10-12 will fit). Pour the rest of the soup mixture over the top, and top generously with the cheese.

Return the pan to the oven, and bake for 30-40 minutes until bubbly and golden brown on top.

Baked Apples

Baked apples are a rocky tradition in my household. For years we made them, but they had a rough track record. Maybe 60% of the time they were bad, really bad. I personally didn't care for them, and I kind of hoped the tradition would die a silent and painless death, leaving us to enjoy hot chocolate and clam chowder and eggs benedict and cherry chocolates and It's A Wonderful Life in peace. Mom even gave away the special apple baking dishes to a thrift store, hoping to seal the sad fate of the apples. Dad and the internet came to the rescue, however, and more apple baking dished magically showed up on our doorstep.

Determined to make them not gross this year, I kind of exerted a little "I have a cooking blog and I know what I'm talking about" attitude, thinking it would be met with some respect. I got none. Anyone who knows my family can imagine what happened next. Six type A personalities descended on the kitchen with yells of "Put a pie crust on it!" "Nobody wants raisins!" "Peel them!" "Ginger? What are you talking about?" It disintegrated into a contest of who could put an ingredient into the mix before someone else stopped them, but boy were the results good. Unfortunately, there was no recipe followed and no measurements made, so this is approximate. Sorry 'bout that.



Baked Apples

Ingredients

• Baking apples (we used Rome, but Macintosh work well, too)

for the apples

• A bowl of melted butter, to coat the apples
  
• A mixture of cinnamon and sugar, to taste, to coat the apples
• Raisins
• Nuts (we used almonds, but walnuts or pecans would probably be great, too)

for the topping

• A mixture of equal parts oats, brown sugar, flour, and butter, pulsed a few times in the food processor

for baking

• Orange zest and the juice of 1 orange
• A mixture of about 6 parts water to 1 part vanilla (a few tablespoons per individual baking dish, or just enough to coat the bottom of a large baking dish if you're doing them all together)

Peel and core the apples, then coat in the melted butter and cinnamon sugar. Place in individual baking dishes or all together in a large casserole. Stuff the open cores with the mixture of raisins and nuts.

Sprinkle the oat, sugar, flour mixture over each apple. Sprinkle a little orange zest and orange juice over each one. Spoon about 2 tablespoons of the water/vanilla mixture in the bottom of each baker, or just enough to coat the bottom a the large baking dish.

Bake at 350 degrees for about 35 minutes. Serve with vanilla ice cream.

Classic Split Pea Soup

One time my family went sailing in the British Virgin Islands, and it was an all-around amazing experience. We snorkeled and swam in some of the clearest water I've ever seen, played on breathtaking beaches, scubaed to shipwrecks, and billowed in the wind of the sailboat. One night, we picked a tiny little restaurant in a secluded little cove with tables right on the beach. The waves came right up over your toes during dessert. The cook's son swam out to a trap in the middle of the bay to get the lobster my dad ordered for dinner. I am also quite convinced that the only people working there were the waitress, the waitress' mother in the kitchen, and the waitress' brother who swam to get the lobsters. Dinner took about 3 hours, and no one minded one bit.

So, to get to the point, the first coarse was a bowl of split pea soup. As it was being served, I say to myself, "We travel down to an exotic paradise and all I got was a bowl of pureed, green baby food?" However, one spoonful of that soup, and I was made a believer. I adore split pea soup. In retrospect, it was probably about 40% cream, but hey, there's precious little a pint of heavy cream can't fix.

This recipe was necessitated by being forced to take the leftovers from the church Christmas dinner. There are only a few things I know of that one can do with a ham bone, and this is the main one. I'm sorry that there's no crazy experimentation, secret ingredients, twists or turns for this one. Actually, I'm mostly sorry that there's no real recipe. A friend sent over just a list of ingredients without any measurements or ratios, and in my book, that's awesome. I wasn't bound by anything. So, this one is completely up to you. Good luck, and have fun.

Warning: I had a great big ole' ham bone, so I made a whole lot of soup. You can probably half everything and be just fine.


Split Pea Soup

Ingredients (all measurements are approximate)

• 1 large white onion
• 1 large russet potato, skin still on
• 1-2 stalks celery
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme
• 1 sprig fresh rosemary
• 4-5 sprigs fresh parsley
• 1 large ham bone, with some meat still on
• 2 pounds split peas (rinsed thoroughly, and bad ones or stray pebbles picked out)
• 1 heaping tablespoon chopped garlic
• ample salt and pepper, to taste
• chicken broth (I used about 2 quarts, plus some extra water)
• about 1/2 cup heavy cream
  

I started in a crockpot, but then ended up moving to a stock pot on the stove later because the crockpot just wasn't big enough. You'll have to be the judge for yourself.

In a food processor, I chopped the onion, potato, celery, and herbs then added them to the crockpot. Place in the ham bone, split peas, and garlic in there also, and cover with liquid. Let heat for several hours (or fewer if on the stove: just be sure everything is soft and falling apart). Pull out the ham bone (making sure to get all the parts if some cartilage or other ham parts have fallen off), cut off the meat, and chop finely.

In the pot, still vigorously or pulse a few times with an immersion blender to homogenize the soup a bit. Add the ham back in, thin it with a little water if necessary, add the cream, and stir well.

Hawaiian Haystacks

It's entirely possible that those of you who have never lived in Utah have never heard of these before. I'm not gonna' lie, either, most of the ones (even the native Utah variety), while being "yummy" and filling, have left a lot of room for improvement. Typically they consist of cream of chicken soup with boiled chicken over rice, cheese, and some toppings. Well, some Thai-inspired tweaks and we had ourselves a party going on.



Hawaiian Haystacks

Ingredients
for the chicken

• 1.5 pounds boneless chicken pieces
• 1 small yellow onion
  
• 1 can's worth of pineapple juice (save the pineapple)
  
• 1 tablespoon minced garlic
• salt and pepper
  
• 1 can coconut milk
• 1 can cream of chicken soup
• 2 - 3 tablespoons yellow curry powder

for the toppings

• 1 can pineapple tidbits
• 1 diced red pepper
• 1 bunch green onions, cut up
• 1 large can mandarin orange segments
• flaked coconut
• 1 cup blanched peas
• chopped fresh cilantro
• salted cashews

• White rice
  

Put the garlic, onion, chicken, salt, pepper, and pineapple juice in a crockpot on low for several hours (do it in the morning and forget about it until you come home). About an hour before serving, shred the chicken, then add the soup, coconut milk, and curry powder. Switch the heat to high, and let sit until ready to serve. Stir well, and add additional curry powder as needed for the desired level of kick.

Serve the gravy over a bowlful of white rice, then top with the toppings.

Mayonnaise without the Jar

My mom sends me some leftover cooking magazines every now and again. I appreciate them, and sometimes I find some really awesome stuff in there. Most of them have really elegant, labor-intensive recipes for exotic-sounding dishes. Imagine my surprise when I came across a recipe (and positively hilarious accompanying editorial) for mayonnaise in a recent edition of Bon Appetit.

Mayonnaise? Is there anything elegant or exotic-sounding about mayonnaise? I didn't think so, but something about the witty musings sparked my interest. One can make mayonnaise? From scratch? I don't think I even really knew what mayonnaise was made out of before this adventure: I just assumed it was a base element or something.

I went forward, botched the first batch (seriously: pour the oil in slowly), but the second one was like a little piece of creamy heaven delivered to my kitchen. I kid you not, it was 11:45 pm (what else was I going to do at quarter to midnight?), and I was so excited I cooked a chicken breast, diced some celery, green onions, and fresh dill to make a chicken salad sandwich just so I could enjoy it. It was the best sandwich I have ever had after midnight.



Homemade Mayonnaise

Ingredients

• 1 large egg yolk
• 1 1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon vinegar
  
• 1/4 teaspoon dijon mustard
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
• 3/4 cup oil (you'll want a mild-flavored oil for this)

Beat the egg yolk with the lemon juice, then add the rest of the ingredients except for the oil, and beat well together.

Now, this is where the fun begins. Start beating, and very, very slowly (almost 1 drop at a time), add about 1/4 cup of the oil. Never allow the oil to collect or pool, or it won't emulsify* correctly. After the initial oil is added, pour in the rest of the oil in a steady, thin stream. Add salt to taste and enjoy. It won't last more than just a few days, so enjoy quickly.

*I didn't know what emulsify meant, so I had to look it up: to create a mixture of two liquids that do not mix together well, such as oil and water, to which other ingredients are added to help hold the mixture together

Strawberry Shortcake

Strawberry shortcake. Everyone's had it a bagillion times, but the name itself begs the obvious question: what really is a shortcake? I mean, don't get me wrong; there's usually always cake involved, but I'm pretty sure that somewhere we've migrated away from what strawberry shortcake's founding fathers had envisioned.

I've had unnatural-looking strawberry gloop on top of angel food cake a whole bunch, and sometimes even on just straight-from-the-box yellow cake. As quick and easy as these alternatives are, they don't really satiate that part of my childhood that remembers made-from-scratch, flaky, slightly sweet drop biscuits with strawberry sauce and real whipped cream (Mom, with all her ultra-healthy ways, always had a soft spot for real whipped cream).

The last time I saw Mom, we sat down and pulled out that old shortcake recipe from where it had been hiding, and I threw in a few little twists to the strawberry sauce that I got from Bon Appétit magazine. Unfortunately, this was such an impromptu event that upon realizing that there was no whipping cream available, we opted to just use the stuff from the can. I would recommend against it, except in emergency dessert situations.


Strawberry Shortcake

Ingredients

Shortcake biscuits

• 2 Cups flour
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
• 1 beaten egg
• 2/3 cup milk

Strawberry Filling

• 2 quarts fresh strawberries
• 1/3 cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon orange zest
• splash lemon juice

• Whipped cream to top
  

Biscuits



Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Cut the butter into the sugar, flour, baking powder with a food processor with the plastic dough blade (you could do this by hand, but it's such a chore) until the mixture looks like meal or fine crumbs. Transfer to another bowl and add the egg and milk, stirring until just mixed. Drop heaping spoonfuls of the dough onto a greased cookie sheet (enough to make 8 biscuits) and bake for about 10 minutes until the tips and ridges turn golden brown. Don't overcook or it becomes too hard and not dessert-like.

Strawberry Filling

Cut the strawberries into slices of fourths. Heat a little oil or butter in a large saucepan and sauté the strawberries until slightly soft. Add the sugar, cinnamon, orange zest, and lemon juice and stir until the sugar is dissolved in the juice. You really don't want this to be too runny, but it should thicken as it cools.

Cut the biscuits in half, and thickly layer the strawberries and whipped cream on the bottom half. Place the top on and serve. There you have it: childhood summer memories on a plate.