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Sparky responded to this with monkey noises and gestures (in eight-year-old boys, this signifies humble, deep appreciation)

As for the oats, they were plain-old Quaker Instant, though the recipe states that old-fashioned are fine as well. The cakes, while having a terrific flavor (you can eat them naked - naked cakes, I mean) also have an incredible texture due to the varying cuts of the different grains - a sandy quality from the cornmeal, and a heartiness from the oats. I tend to add oats to a lot of my baking for texture, anyway - unless it's something fine-grained like cake, oats make baked goods better, IMO.

That being said, you could probably replace the oats for another rolled-grain cereal, like a barley or 7-grain cereal. That's what I like about this recipe, you can change it up to suit what's in your pantry.

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That's a lot of delicious looking pancakes. Sparky does good work.

Pie in the Sky for the Fourth of July

So, this Fourth was kind of a bust: drizzly and rainy all day, Dad was on shift but not in the parade, and Sparky and I were stuck home like the two kids in the Cat in the Hat. I figured the best way around "nothing to do, too wet to play" syndrome was to fire up the 'ol oven and show Sparky's baking chops to Grammy and Grandad who happened by almost as suddenly as a certain feline. We planned on having a picnic at the beach during the fireworks, as we do every year, and I wanted a dessert that was somewhat patriotic, could hold up to travel, and be eaten with sandy fingers...and suddenly thought "hand pies!" (so sorry, I don't have pics, but Sparky was so proud of his work that he insisted I post this after the fact; the pics are from round two)

Fortunately for us, I'd hit the farmers' market that week, and we had a quart of sour cherries and a pint of blueberries, so I knew we were halfway there. I set Sparky to pitting the cherries with a very specialized tool: an unbent paper clip (that I now find is not a cool Alton Brown trick, but a Martha Stewart one) An eight-year-old and his Mom can pit a quart of cherries with this very specialized piece of equipment (insert, twist, pull) in just under half an hour. Some of the cherries are lovely and whole, and some of them got squished, but in pie, as in life, nothing is perfect, but instead is sweet and sour and sticky all at once.

I then found a pastry recipe that I would marry if I could. Yes. I love this pastry recipe and plan to use it until all the butter in the universe runs out, thank you Smitten Kitchen. I didn't know that I loved it when I started, but I thought I'd challenge Sparky's math skills and doubled it - and doubling, perhaps tripling will be SOP for this recipe from now on. So the recipe went something like this:

"What's two times 2 1/2 cups of flour?" "Um, four? Um, three? Um..." "Well, what's two times two?" "Four!" "And what's two halves?" "One! Oh, Five!" And then the child measured out five cups of flour into the bowl without being asked, carefully scraping the top of the measure with a knife three or four times so that not one iota more than five cups went in.

"Two times 1/2 teaspoon of salt?" (eye roll) "One teaspoon, Mom." in it went.

"Two times sixteen tablespoons of butter?" (mumbled to the tune of "inchworm") "Two and two are four, four and four are eight, eight and eight are sixteen, sixteen and sixteen are THIRTY-TWO!" "And if that's two sticks of butter, how many sticks do we need" (BIG eye roll, since I just made him do twice the math for no reason) "Four, Mom!"

"And twice 1/2 cup of sour cream?" "One cup!"

"Four teaspoons of lemon juice?" "Eight!" "And if there's three teaspoons in a tablespoon?" (groan) "Um...one, two, three - that's one; four, five, six, that's two, seven, eight...there's not enough for another one?" "Right, so two tablespoons and two teaspoons, right?" "What-ever."

"Last is 1/2 cup of ice water...so that's 1 cup, right?"

So I set Sparky to grating the four sticks of butter in the food processor, which he did with minimal help from me, and then he dumped them into the carefully measured dry ingredients and stirred them around with a spatula until the lumps of butter were evenly distributed. I then mixed all the wet ingredients and Sparky folded them in slowly until we had a slightly sticky dough - we wound up using all the wet, but YMMV. Then we stuck the dough in the fridge while we worked on the filling, based on this recipe. Sparky's head was about to explode from all the thinking, so I mixed it up on my own:

1 (8 oz) pkg cream cheese, at room temperature
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
2 eggs (divided)
1 pint fresh blueberries (and I added about 1/2 quart of the cherries which had been macerating in about 1/3 cup of sugar)

So, everything but the blueberries went into the mixer and got whipped into a liquid (in future, I will whip everything but the cheese and then mix that in so that it's not so homogenous; I think small lumps of cream cheese would improve this recipe) Then the fruit is carefully folded in (you want to keep the custard as white as possible) and the whole thing goes into the freezer until it's firm (another step I will try next time; it's very difficult to work with a liquid filling in a hand pie.)

Our first set of hand pies were simple turnovers: we rolled out the dough to 1/8" thick, cut it into squares, tried filling and sealing them into triangles and ended up with pie juice everywhere. Fortunately, I happen to have a set of turnover molds which turned out to be quite useful, so here's how the remaining hand pies worked (pictured is the smallest mold, but the pies worked best with the medium-size one) I also found that it was helpful to cut the dough slightly larger than the mold's cutter. Note: chilling this dough is vital to the success of the recipe - put your scraps in the freezer before you roll them out again.

So, for the next round, we rolled out the dough 1/8" thick, cut it slightly larger than the mold, and put the resulting circle of dough on top of the mold.

The edges were painted with egg wash,

and then we added just enough filling to fill the well. (This took quite a bit of practice)

Make sure you close the mold firmly (you may want to re-crimp the edges even more firmly)

and then egg wash the outside and sprinkle with sugar (I didn't have sanding sugar, regular worked just fine) Poke a few vent holes in the top. Place on a parchment-covered baking sheet and bake in a 350 degree oven until golden brown, about 20 minutes.

The resultant golden-brown pie will have puffed so much that your crimp will be almost invisible. If you're lucky, you will have a red, white and purpley-blue filling, depending on how stained your cream cheese mixture became. Another lucky find: you can prep these hand-pies right up to the point they go in the oven, and then freeze them on a baking sheet and toss them in a ziploc, to be baked at your leisure at 450 for about 15 minutes. Enjoy!







Did I mention I would marry this pastry dough if I could?

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Great post and story . . . I'm embarrassed to say that while reading your story, I can picture myself in the kitchen as a young child tugging on my mom's apron and screaming at her about measurements. The pies look beautiful and I'm really curious about the crust recipe. What did the sour cream and lemon add to the mix, and were you most pleased with the flavor or texture? It certainly looks quite flaky and I'm very curious . . . might have to give it a shot.

Thank you for your kind words, BR!

Both the flavor and the texture of the piecrust were excellent, although I think the sour cream and lemon were more about tenderizing the crumb than adding flavor - it came out almost like croissant dough, very buttery in flavor and tender and chewy on the inside with a crisp exterior from the egg wash and sugar. I'm curious what this dough would do if used in a more traditional pie - but my more immediate plan is to use it next time I make Oggies, for which it should be ideal.

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Michele and Sparky, They look beautiful and sound terrific. I think I'll try making them soon.
Paulette

Thank you, Paulette - I hope you have as much fun with your sidekick as I do with mine!

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Michele, the use of the Chinese dumpling maker was just sooo kühl! Debbie (The Other Dr. Gale : ) is the family baker. I've got her interested in maybe making a batch of these beauties, esp. since I've got the dumpling maker languishing in the junque drawer.

Tnx for this!

Geo
PS. Maybe you ought not show Sparky this article about a tiny girl catching a Giant Catfish.

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Michele,

I keep buying these dumpling makers - I must own at least six different sizes. However, no matter what kind of dough recipe I use, I end up with my dumpling stuck in the plastic contraption. What is the secret to getting the gadget to release the dumplings?

BTW, as always, a pleasure to read of your kitchen adventures with Sparky.

Jyoti

_________________
Jyoti
A meal, with bread and wine, shared with friends and family is among the most essential and important of all human rituals.
Ruhlman

Hmmm...well, two things: this is NOT a dumpling dough, it's a well-floured and well-chilled pate brisee - it doesn't tend to stick to plastic. I did note, however, that sometimes, the dough gets stuck in the inside fold - you have to be a bit careful as you open it. I've had very little luck using these for empanadas (why my mother bought them for me) or for chinese dumplings.

I also wonder if it might be easier to get filling into these by using the samosa ice-cream-cone style of filling and crimping, but you'd have to be very careful with the tender dough.

Thanks again, guys!

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Scrambled eggs super!

A little knowledge can be a compelling thing: the other day as I, bleary-eyed, was about to make breakfast, Sparky popped up and said "Can I make my own breakfast, Mom? Can I make scrambled eggs? All by myself?" I saw in his eager brown eyes that he had come to the powerful realization that, not only can he probably learn to cook anything he wants to eat - but, more importantly, he who cooks is also he who decides what's for breakfast.

So of course I said "um, let me think about that, um - are you sure you don't want cereal? Is there coffee?" and tried to rub the sense back into my eyes.

So, we went through the steps of making scrambled eggs - but I didn't take pictures, as I was barely able to make sure I poured coffee and not raw eggs into my cup. We agreed that since things went well, he could make scrambled eggs for Daddy tomorrow so I could take pictures and post it here. I took a deep healing draught of coffee. The child is sharp as a tack; I had no chance whatsoever of him forgetting to make scrambled eggs the next day, so here they are, photos from day 2, instructions from day 1.

First, the eggs are cracked into a tall, heavy container that's not going to move on you while you mix them, and seasoned with a little salt and pepper:

(look at the mad egg crackin' skillz on that boy, I tell you - and at 7am, no less)

Then, you retrieve the tool we like to call the "egg bouncer," a spring whisk- tailor made for this task, but useful to thorougly mix anything in a large cup. I often use the immersion blender for this task, but I didn't tell him that. With this tool, you vigorously whip the eggs by bouncing it up and down until they are lemon-colored and foamy.


Then you put some butter in a non-stick skillet and turn the heat on low. After the butter melts, dump in your eggs. Stir slowly with the spatula over low to medium-low heat, making sure you scrape down the sides and the bottom carefully.


(At this point, I said "Low and slow is the key, son - you need to cook scrambled eggs low and slow," whereupon he replied "Mom, Gary Wivviott says "Low and Slow" - you say "no guts, no glory." Smartass. Before I had any coffee.)

Resist the urge to turn up the heat. Continue stirring and mixing in the solids until you have a rich, creamy mass that is done to your liking.



Creamy and delicious - just like I like them.

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Tnx Michelle & Sparky! Low and slow, what a secret! I've always done it hot and fast and it's never creamy enough. Tomorrow: Sunday morning *creamy* scrambled eggs. Yesssss!

Geo
PS. no water, milk, etc. additions?

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Nothing but butter and seasoning. Sometimes we add shredded cheese at the last minute, but Sparky likes his eggs straight-up. Thanks, Geo.

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Hi,

My very first cooking experience was making scrambled eggs. My parents apparently didn't get out of bed quick enough. I was hungry. I had seen how it was done and proceeded. My parents began to smell familiar odors, though nobody else was in the household besides my one-year-old sister and I. They came into the kitchen to find me standing on a chair cooking eggs.

I have almost no recollection of this event, because I was three-years-old. Since it did not become a regular activity for me. I will guess I got into trouble for my initiative.

Glad Sparky is getting some great experience in a warmer environment.

Regards,

_________________
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"You'll be remembered long after you're dead if you make good gravy, mashed potatoes and biscuits." -- Nathalie Dupree
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M--

The low 'n slow scrambling technique is a Grand Success! Tnx so much, you've scrambled my life, so to say

C2, my experience isn't all that different in the end from yours. When I was in first grade, my folks would leave me home with my baby sister while they went to church. At first my breakfast help was pretty simple: I got out the silverware, plates, etc. and set the table. Then I started pre-heating the electric griddle. Mom figured out pretty quickly where this was going to go, so she taught me how to cook bacon, and crack the eggs into custard cups, so I could start them cooking sunnyside-up as soon as they came in the front door. I never graduated to making coffee (in one of those silver percolators)—I think mom thought it was dangerous for me to be messing about making coffee!

Geo

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Sooo, you like wine and are looking for something good to read? Maybe *this* will do the trick!

Thanks, both of you! It's fun to hear what was going on in everyone else's kitchen when they were growing up: myself, I've always had difficulty eating breakfast until properly awake - this drove my parents to near distraction trying to make sure I ate "the most important meal of the day:" at one point, they resorted to single-serve pizza just so I'd have something in my stomach.

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Our little corner of the world has just as much Haiti in it as it has Mexico, Colombia, Jamaica or Eastern Europe: we live less than a block from a Haitian church, and the only Haitian restaurant in Chicagoland, so far as I know, is right around the corner. Many of our neighbors are of Haitian descent, and the current tragedy affects them immediately and directly, and I'd been casting about for something more meaningful than adding an extra $5 to our Dominick's bill. So it was with gratitude that I read about the Hideout Haiti Benefit, which will be featuring (along with Waco Brothers, Eleventh Dream Day and a poster sale by Judgeworks) a good old-fashioned bake sale, organized by My Vegetable Blogger, Joanna Miller. (Thanks, Martha Bayne, for the heads-up!)

I thought this would be an excellent opportunity to offer Sparky a shot at some social action, so off to the Rogers Park Fruit Market I went. I'd done a bit of research into Haitian sweets, and discovered a recipe that fascinated me: Pain Patate, which translates into "potato bread." Rather than bread, however, it's actually a rich white-sweet-potato (or boniato) pudding; fortunately, for the abovementioned reasons, boniatos are readily available in Rogers Park. Since I needed something that could be sold by the piece, I decided to make Pain Patate Hand Pies, using the pastry recipe I love so much from Smitten Kitchen.

Pain Patate Hand Pies

This morning, Sparky and I put together the pastry:

Mise:
2 1/2 Cups of flour
2 sticks of butter, diced and frozen
1/2 cup sour cream
4 Teaspoons lemon juice
1/2 cup water
1/2 tsp salt.



First, we blended the flour, salt, and frozen butter together until it resembled coarse meal, using a stiff whisk and our fingers. We then made a well in the center and added the liquid ingredients, stirring them together and then folding them into the dry until it made a heavy dough. (we kind of threw caution to the wind and assumed we would need all the liquid; we were lucky to be right.) This went into the fridge to chill while we ran some errands.



Next, we peeled the boniatos, cubed them, and steamed them until they were mashable (I decided to create a hybrid of a couple recipes I found online) to make 2 cups of mashed bonaitos. This was blended with 2 large mashed bananas.





To this, we added the following mixture:
3 medium eggs,
1 cup brown sugar
1 12-oz can of evaporated milk
1 tsp fresh grated ginger root
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp fresh grated nutmeg
zest of one lime
1 13.5 oz can of coconut milk
1 tsp ground cinnamon

This was added to the bonaito/banana mixture and blended well with an immersion blender. The bonaitos are quite interesting: if you added white sugar to plain mashed potatoes, you'd get something similar, but they have a heartier, starchier texture. In future, I'd like to try this dish with American sweet potatoes, but I think these offer the other flavorings a chance to shine.

Cover 1 cup raisins with rum, microwave for 30 seconds or until warm, and leave them to soak as you continue to work with the potato mixture.



After the filling was mixed, we rolled out the dough, using our handy hand-pie forms to cut it into circles and create a divot to accept the filling. Pies were filled, first with the drained raisins, then with the filling which I had thickened a bit over a double boiler. They baked at 375 for 20 minutes.

The dough recipe was about half of what I needed, so I poured the remainder into a large casserole and dotted it with more rum-soaked raisins and some dried pineapple, and baked it off in a more traditional version of this dish that we had for dessert (well, pineapple was my personal twist - but it was a good fit.)



If you want one, you can buy it here, supplies are limited:

Benefit for Haiti at the Hideout, Monday, Jan 18
$20 admission. All door proceeds go to Partners In Health
Eleventh Dream Day at 8:15pm
Waco Brothers at 9:15pm

The Hideout
1354 West Wabansia Avenue
Chicago, IL 60642-1519
(773) 227-4433

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In case you needed more incentive to check out the sale at the Hideout, check out the photo here: Sparky's hand pies are in good company: there's jams from Fruitslinger, Cookies and tarts from Stresscake, Rosemary shortbread from Rustic Kitchen, and My Vegetable Blog is featuring some amazing-sounding chocolate cookies with gin-soaked raisins.

I heard a rumor that other LTHers will be firing up their ovens and offering goodies at this sale. Of course, you don't have to do that - you could just show up at the Hideout tonight and trade your dough for sweets! Sparky and I will (hopefully) be asleep - so we'd love to hear reports from those of you who went!

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Michelle,

I'm not sure if I'm more bummed about the fact that this event is on a work night, or the fact that I'm at an age where that now matters. Either way - bummer. I hope it's a big success. The hand pies look great! If I see you and Sparky pushing a hand pie cart down Clark Street in Rogers Park someday, I'm definately stopping.

-Lynn

Thanks, Lynn - and I know exactly what you mean!

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Thanks to any and all who supported the Hideout's benefit for Haiti:



I have it on good authority that the bake sale itself netted $700 - thanks to those of you who joined in the fun, ate sweets, and those of you who brought goods for sale (FigMolly, I'm looking at you!)

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Not long ago, I was looking for something else entirely, when I stumbled upon a cookbook by Alice Waters. Not just any cookbook, though - a children's book, written in the voice of her then seven-year-old daughter, Fanny Singer.

Fanny at Chez Panisse: A Child's Restaurant Adventures is a story all about food: where it comes from, how it's grown, how to eat it (with fingers!) and how to cook. Truthfully, at nine, Sparky considered himself a bit sophisticated for it, but we sat down and read together how Fanny grew up inside stock pots in the kitchen, learned to eat halibut baked in fig leaves and was solely responsible for raspberry inspection. The charming story was rescued for Sparky by a full-color illustration of the famous fire at Chez Panisse. After the the story is a short illustrated cookbook.



Today, Dad was at work and Sparky had a four-day weekend, so it seemed like a perfect day to take a stab at a recipe. I sent him off with the book and the mandate to find us something for lunch, but couldn't resist peeking over his shoulder...raita? no,...cornbread? NO,...quesadillas? OK, quesadillas...but look, there's a pasta with garlic and parsley...No? Ok...roast potatoes and garlic mayonnaise? Sigh, OK - what about calzones? Calzones! OK!

I had previously frozen a quadruple batch of Artisan Bread In Five pizza dough, most of which had gone into pizza bites for Superbowl Sunday, so I pulled out the last batch and thawed it on the counter. When it had softened, I set Sparky to kneading the dough, which (I noted with not just a little pride,) he did beautifully without any direction:



We then set two balls of dough aside to rest a bit as we assembled our other ingredients. Being as a calzone is kind of a kitchen-sink recipe, I took a lot of liberties: instead of prosciutto, I added Italian sausage; instead of fresh herbs, I added frozen pesto, instead of chives I used shallot, which Sparky chopped up after donning his cut-proof gloves (which now fit considerably better.) He "let" me mince the garlic, so he could recover from a case of onion tears, but not until after I showed him how to release the the garlic paper by giving the clove an "indian burn" between two fingers and thumbs.



Still, we happened to have a lovely knob of goat cheese as called for in the recipe, and we made do with string cheese for our mozzarella: after all, it's February in Chicago, and Sonoma is very far away. I think both Alice and Fanny would forgive us.



The filling ingredients were well blended, and the dough rolled out and carefully stretched by hand - we got a little help by draping it over a bowl to rest between rollings.




The ingredients were then summarily dumped slightly off-center on the oblong of dough, water applied to the edges, and the dough was folded over the filling. Sparky decided to crimp with a fork, and I went over the edges with an empanada fold, just to be safe. Then over the top with an egg and olive oil wash, and into a 450 degree oven for 20 minutes.





After working his fingers near to the bone, Sparky decided to pour himself a cold one (in this case, an Izze Blackberry I had bought for Valentine's Day) and dig in.



They came out spectacularly well: meaty and rich, with a nice tang from the goat cheese, bit of a burn from the garlic - for the first time, I think we turned out something restaurant-quality in my kitchen!

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Science Project: Food Tech 1.0

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That was great!

Thanks, tgoddess - we had a tough time convincing Mr. Bean to let me post the video, he's a bit shy - but they both did a terrific job! We're working on Paper Pizza 2.0 now.

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They sure did!

Do Sparky and Mr. Bean want to learn how to make macarons, too?

I think Sparky and Mr. Bean should try out for "The Next Food Network Star."

_________________
Ms. Ingie
Life is too short, why skip dessert?

What a great project! I really enjoyed watching the boys cook. Loved how they couldn't wait to plunge their hands into the dough the first time. I miss having a little boy, sniff, now that mine has to bend down to hug me.

I'm so glad I got to try the paper pizza - the video was amazing! Thanks, Sparky, for sharing your paper pizza.

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Our blog
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"Thanks for the comment, Molly - I thought your quiche was great!" (Sparky, via Mom)

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