Seven delectable dishes share the plate, but who are we kidding, you’ve picked your fav – the one you want to be the last bite of the meal. The closer.
This is such a morsel.
Tart, light, buttery, and palate cleansing, – this bar is like sorbet in cookie/bar form.
Ronald Weasley. Jessica Rabbit. Carrot Top. Tori. Beer. Conan.
Just a handful of the things that the word “ginger” brings to mind.
A request for ginger snaps sent me on a Google quest for the perfect recipe. I love molasses and I love ginger, so when I stumbled upon this recipe that took both of these guys seriously, I knew I’d found the ONE.
Yeast. It makes all my favorite things. Beer. Bread. Any other spontaneously fermented goodies. And yet, it scares me.
Like tempering chocolate, making caramel, experimenting with bread – I’ve had mixed results. Those yeast guys are just so darned fussy and precise. Imagine that.
But I think I’ve got the hang of it, knock on wood. I think I’ve cultivated enough respect and patience to see the results I desire.
So with that introduction, here is a great roll to serve on your Thanksgiving table.
Perhaps you’re a lovely lady, or fine fella that enjoy the occasional sweet treat. Perhaps the thought of a fluffy cake-like bar filled with pumpkin, nutty goodnesss, topped with decadent cream cheese frosting… makes you a little weak in the knees.
Or, perhaps you want nothing to do with a sugary snack, but enjoy the idea of sharing baked goods that make the intended think you slaved away all day, as the flour and sweat flew.
Well, here’s the answer friends.
A serious warning accompanies this cake recipe – once you make it, and the first bite is devoured, you will then be required to make it for every event, for the rest of your life. There’s a possibility you might not even be invited, but the cake will.
As we prepare for a day of feasting and green beer, may I suggest you sop up some of that liquid bread with the real thing?
Easy and delicious, my two favorite words when it comes to cooking, are perfect descriptors for this bread. One bowl, no kneading, minimal cooking time, no lie.
It’s been a long held belief of mine that hand pies would be the next big thing to hit the food truck craze. They’re small, they’re cute, they’re portable, they’re easily adapted for the sweet or savory lover.
They also conjure images of Patti Lupone stuffing them with humans… but I digress.
Breakfast – the breaking of the night’s fast, the best meal to enjoy at all hours, the best jump in your pump for a long day, the best foundation for a day of drinking! Wait, what?
The Fantasy line-up is set. The jersey perfectly rumpled. The beer cold. The chips and dip aplenty. Dish with clear line of sight of the southern sky – for maximum Sunday ticket reception.
It’s here dear friends. The day of days… NFL FOOTBALL!!!
My name is Megan. And I’m a diary-holic.
I’m not sure if you’ll find this as shocking as I did, but I searched and searched for the medical term for this phenomenon and apparently – there isn’t one. Names for being afraid of dairy, but nothing for loving it? I find this appalling!