Candy Cane Brittle

So I'm a sucker for chocolate and peppermint. Sue me. 

And for all those folks who love to complain about Christmas coming too soon, you'd better start complaining about me, too. We already have our tree up. Me and Buddy the Elf are ready. It feels so good to be home, not in transition anymore, not living out of boxes. (Well, pretty much. Trying to be patient.)

I would rather die than go anywhere or purchase anything on Black Friday, but holing up in my kitchen or dragging out the art supplies is another matter. And my mom started a tradition, way back when, of always making some sort of special treat or cookie on tree decorating night. I come by it naturally.

There were many other things I should have been doing yesterday, but I spent a good portion of it getting ready for Tree Decorating Night. Vacuumed the rug, hauled out the plastic tote marked "Xmas," and had to go to two stores to get the ingredients for these little numbers. I was doing it all for Wyatt. Really. He goes NUTS over chocolate and peppermint. Like I've said before in your presence, there's nothing quite as motivating as seeing your kids love something you make. Wyatt really goes for it, too. He rolls his eyes, groans, get chocolate everywhere. It's pretty great. 

I'm keenly aware lately that these are the moments I will miss and romanticize as I grow older and into different seasons of life. Don't get me wrong--I'm dying to go to Greece and Morocco, sleep in every once in awhile, and actually get something accomplished during my day. But all of that is overrated. These moments, unwrapping all the Chrismtas ornaments or cleaning up the playdough, are the real ones. I'll miss the physicality of the kids' little limbs, the completely un-self-conscious way they love things like Christmas lights and peppermint bark. 

This is it, and it's breathtaking. I am blessed beyond belief.

Candy Cane Brittle
Adapted from Bon Appetit. I used to be down on BA after Gourmet went under. I didn't want to like it. But guess what? I can't help myself. The December issue got me out of a kitchen stupor. All of the sudden, I want to attempt everything and travel everywhere. And that inspiration is totally worth the subscription price. 

P.S. I get chocolate for stuff like this at Trader Joes. Their "Pound Plus" bars are the deal of the century. And apparently white chocolate is totally passé. So 1984. I actually had to look pretty hard to find some. I settled for a Godivia bar from the grocery store. I suppose you could go without it, but I like the contrast and the way it binds everything together.

1 lb. high quality bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
1/2 c. chopped candy canes, divided (I used 6 "regular" size candy canes, put them between parchment paper, and pounded them with a rolling pin)
1 c. chocolate wafer cookies (such as Nabisco Famous Chocolate Wafers), lightly crushed
2 oz. high quality white chocolate, melted 

Line a large baking sheet with foil. Stir bittersweet chocolate in a medium bowl set over a saucepan of shimmering water until melted. Stir in 1/4 c. chopped candy and all the crushed cookies; spread mixture over foil till it's about 1/4 " thick. Sprinkle the rest of the candy over, and drizzle with the white chocolate (which you've melted in the same manner as the bittersweet chocolate). Chill until set, about 30 minutes, and break into shards. 

Chocolate Orange Walnut Loaf Cake

I feel like singing a little tune. That's how easy and scrumptious this tender-crumbed cake is.

Another baby has been born in our family's world, and the kids and I delivered dinner this afternoon. I wrapped up only three quarters of this loaf for them. We had to sample it first. Quality Control.  Melissa Clark's recipe. Again! I love her style--conversational, practical, inventive. This cake involves just a bowl and a spoon, and ingredients I always have around--plain yogurt, eggs, chocolate chips, nuts. I subbed walnuts for her pecans because they were on hand, and added orange zest to the batter and an orange glaze while it was still piping hot. I love how the glaze settles in, getting sticky and shiny, running down around the sides.

Loretta and I had a rare morning together. She stirred the cake batter, and we made valentines while it baked. There were various preschooler demands later in the afternoon (More snack! I don't want to have a rest time!), but our 90 minutes of baking and crafting were divine. I listened again to John Kabat-Zinn recently, who says that children are like little zen masters, parachuted into our lives to push all our buttons and see how we'll respond. It's funny--I just came back from a work trip, and what I missed was all those buttons being pushed. In my better moments, I can stand back and say,"This craziness means my life is full. I am choosing the uncertainty, the ambiguity, the loose ends, and I'd be lost without them."

Chocolate Orange Walnut Loaf Cake

1 c. sugar
2/3 c. plain yogurt
3 large eggs
1 3/4 c. flour
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. kosher salt
2/3 c. (10 Tb.) unsalted butter, melted
1/2 c. chocolate chips
1/2 c. toasted walnuts or pecans
finely grated zest of one orange

For glaze:
Juice and zest of one orange
3/4 c. powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350. Grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan.

Using a whisk, whisk together the sugar and  yogurt. Add the eggs, one at a time, and whisk until completely combined.

In a separate bowl, mix together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add the dry mixture into the wet and mix until just combined. Using a spatula, fold in the melted butter a little at a time. Fold in the chocolate chips, walnuts, and orange zest.

Bake for 50-55 minutes, or until the cake is golden and a tester inserted into the center comes out clean.

Meanwhile, make glaze. Using a whisk, combine orange juice, zest, and powdered sugar.

When cake is done, poke several holes in a it with a toothpick or skewer. Immediately pour glaze over the top and allow it to saturate the cake. It will pool up a bit at the edges--brush it back over the top with a pastry brush. Let the cake cool in the pan for about 15 minutes, then turn it out onto a wire rack to cool to room temp before cutting it.

Fudgy Salted Brownies

I cannot remember the last time I made brownies. Any faint memories I do have aren't good. Once, I made a giant double batch of Barefoot Contessa brownies and left the sugar out. Other times, the recipe has been disappointing--too dry, too wet, too sweet. A few months ago, my friend Abra asked for a good brownie recipe. I'm finally getting around to it, and these deliver. Big time. (Poor Yancey had to endure me preening all night).

They take a few pantry staples--lots of butter, flour, plain old cocoa powder and unsweetened chocolate--and turn them into something that will have you sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night. They have a thin layer of crackle on top, fissuring to reveal a dark, chewy density. Really, the perfect brownie.

I've (again) drastically cut down my sugar and fat intake the last few months. So when I sat down with one of these and a cup of coffee this afternoon, I savored every sweet, fudgy, salty morsel.

Fudgy Salted Brownies
You won't be surprised that this is adapted from a Melissa Clark recipe. She includes a pinch of cayenne, which I didn't for the sake of children. And I covered half the batch with flaked salt and left the other half plain. I can imagine lots of other additions if you want to experiment--bits of candied ginger, cinnamon for a Mexican chocolate version. I happen to have a 9x13 baking sheet (quarter sheet) which is my workhorse for bar cookies. If you make cookies a lot, I suggest spending the $10 for one. If all you have is a 9x13 baking dish, that will work too.

2 sticks + 2 Tb. unsalted butter
3 oz. unsweetened chocolate, chopped
1 1/2 c. flour
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 c. plus 1 Tb. cocoa powder
2 1/2 c. sugar
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 Tb. vanilla extract
Maldon salt, for sprinkling

Preheat oven to 350. Line a rimmed 9x13-inch baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a microwave or in the top bowl of a double boiler, melt together the buttter and chopped chocolate, stirring until smooth. Meanwhile, combine the flour and kosher salt in a medium bowl.

Transfer the chocolate mixture to a large mixing bowl and whisk in the cocoa powder and sugar. Add the eggs and vanilla and whisk until smooth.Fold in the dry ingredients and continue folding until no lumps remain.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top with a spatula. Sprinkle all over with the Maldon salt. Bake for 25-30 minutes, until the edges just begin to pull away from the sides of the pan and the top is set and shiny. Allow the brownies to cool completely in the pan before cutting into 2x2-inch squares.

Peanut Butter Coconut Bars

For a few years now, these have been my go-to cookies. (Alright. One of them.) You can almost make them in your sleep. In fact, I've often been half-asleep, standing at the mixer at 11:00 pm, making cookies for a potluck I forgot about or a school bake sale I foolishly agreed to contribute to. Peanut butter (the bad, hydrogenated oil kind), coconut, butter, maybe some chocolate chips. They're what I like to call "sleeper cookies," in that they look disappointingly dull.  Like, "Who made those for the bake sale?" No one will swoon when you walk into the room with your Saran wrap-covered platter.  But they'll be your BFF after that.

Maybe you can bring these to the Halloween party you forgot about. Growing up (and this is a long story I won't tell), our family was one of those weird ones that had harvest parties instead of going trick-or-treating. So I am bound and determined that my children will go trick-or-treating, get as ghoulish as they want, and dive into the ridiculousness of Halloween with gusto. And if that means cookies and candy, so be it.

Peanut Butter Coconut Bars
Adapted from my Gourmet cookbook. You really do want the bad kind of peanut butter here, not the good-for-you, stir-it-up kind. Other than that, these cookies are a blank slate. I've made them without the coconut, subbed oatmeal for the coconut, added chocolate chips or not, put salted peanuts on top or not. The best pan to make them in is an aluminum  1/4 sheet (half the size of a regular baking sheet). If you don't have one of those, a  9 x 13 will work.

3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
1/2  cup white sugar
1/2 c. brown sugar
1 cup smooth peanut butter
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups sweetened flaked coconut or oats (or 1/2 and 1/2)
1 c. chocolate chips (optional)
1/2 cup finely chopped salted roasted peanuts for the top (optional)

In a bowl with an electric mixer cream the butter with both sugars and beat the mixture until it is light and fluffy. Add the peanut butter, beat the mixture until it is combined well, and beat in the egg, the vanilla, and the salt. Add the flour, beat the mixture until it is just combined, and stir in the coconut and/or oats, and chocolate chips. Spread the mixture evenly in a buttered jelly-roll pan, 15 1/2 by 10 1/2 by 1 inches, sprinkle the peanuts over it (if using), pressing them into the mixture lightly, and bake the mixture in the middle of a preheated 350°F. oven for 20 to 25 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean. Let the mixture cool completely in the pan on a rack, cut it into 24 bars, and cut each bar in half diagonally to form 2 triangles if you want (I usually don't.)

Halloween Bark

Yesterday, I was doing an interview for some client work. 30 minutes, me and a stranger in a corporate conference room.  I asked how her morning was going, and she said she was having a hard day.  Then she said, "When I go home at night, there's my daughter and a new puppy to play with, and I remember what matters. This is just work." She teared up a little and, since my tear ducts are connected to everyone else's, I teared up too.

I thought of her today, making this CRAZY sugar-packed Halloween treat.  I had one of those days that makes me feel nuts--"home" with the kids, but forcing Loretta to take a nap so I could make my conference call in time, distracted and anxious, wishing the day had 12 more hours in it but wanting it to end all at the same time. Then Wyatt came home from school, the promised Halloween treat-making ensued, and I HAD to stop what I was doing, be present to them, and remember what really matters.

Of course, it all matters, even the small stuff we're not supposed to sweat. Don't you hate it when people tell you not to sweat the small stuff? If you're sweating it, it's probably big. But there are some things that matter more than others--my seven-year-old sidling up and rubbing my back, my preschooler snuggling with me in the morning, destroying the kitchen by smashing up peanut butter cups and getting chocolate everywhere. The rest? It's just work.

Halloween Bark
Adapted from Bon Appetit. You could, of course, use so many other things on top of the chocolate--nuts, coconut, different kinds of candy bars, pumpkin seeds, dried fruit. This, clearly, favors the preferences of children, for whom absolutely nothing can be too sweet. I won't tell you how much I ate after they went to bed last night. All candy bars are the "regular" size--not king size or mini.

1 pound bittersweet chocolate chips
2 Butterfinger bars, cut into irregular pieces
3 Heath bars, cut into irregualr pieces
8 peanut butter cups, cut into 8 wedges each
3 oz. high quality white chocolate, chopped
couple handfuls Reeses's Pieces

Line a baking sheet with foil.  Heat chocolate chips in a double boiler over barely simmering water, stirring frequently, until melted and warm (not hot) to the touch. Pour chocolate onto foil; spread to 1/4" thickness (about a 12"x10" rectangle).  Sprinkle with butterfingers, toffee, and peanut butter cups, making sure everything sticks to the melted chocolate.

Melt white chocolate in a double boiler over barely simmering water, stirring frequently, until melted and warm (not hot) to the touch. Remove from heart. Dip spoon into chocolate, wave from side to side over bark, creating zigzag lines. Scatter Reeses's Pieces over, making sure it sticks.

Chill bark until firm, about 30 minutes. Cut or break bark into irregular pieces.