TGIF: Cupcakes Edition

Last Tuesday, my sweet friend, January, and I attended a "Cupcakes For Adults" cooking class at Central Market (H-E-B's upscale grocery extravaganza). The "adult" label was not only for the wine consumed (responsibly), but also for the booze we actually used as INGREDIENTS. Genius, I tell you. Just genius.

We had the loveliest instructor. She was bubbly, vivacious, and quite the entertainer. They even served us a fabulous salad to munch on while we prepared the cupcakes. It rocked our socks off.

We made:

Rhubarb Cupcakes with Gran Marnier Whipped Cream

Boston Cream Pie Cupcakes (with GOLD dust)

Roasted Banana and RUM Cupcakes with EITHER Nutella Frosting (be still my heart) or Honey Cinnamon Frosting (equally tasty)

And finally...

Chocolate Chip Stout Bread Pudding

(Yes, I realize this isn't a cupcake. However, we baked them in these teeny aluminum ramekins; thus creating the cupcake form.)

While I thought they were all decadent and scrumptious (I did sample each one. Don't judge me, Dr. Dukan.), the bread pudding was my favourite (fancy spelling). I wanted to share the recipe with y'all. It's warm, cozy and the perfect "comfort food" to enjoy while relishing FALL. (It's almost downright COLD in these here parts o' Texas in the morn'. Hallelujah. Sweet relief.)

Happy Friday, Friends!

Chocolate Chip Stout Bread Pudding

Ingredients:

Butter (For schmearing the ramekins. Yep. I spell it like I say it, with extra emphasis on the "schm.")

10 cups of diced/dried bread (I believe we used sourdough to compliment the brewski.)

12 ounces of Guinness Beer

3 cups of heavy cream (fully-loaded – no half-n-half)

¾ cup sugar (white or brown – I fancy brown)

9 whole eggs – well beaten

2 cups of chocolate chips (I would throw in the entire bag – the more chips, the merrier. And I might lean towards milk chocolate for extra sweetness, though semi-sweet would be super duper, too.)

6 tablespoons of butter

Instructions:

Schmear 12ish ramekins (or one large baking dish) with butter.

Place the diced/dried bread in a large mixing bowl.

Combine the rest of the ingredients together with the exception of the chips and additional butter.

Pour the mixture over the bread and mix well. (I prefer to use my hands for mixin'.)

Add the chips.

The bread should soak up the mixture. If you need more liquid, add a smidgen of cream. (It’s extra yummy if you can let the mixture soak for a bit.)

Scoop into the ramekins or baking dish.

Dot the top(s) with the remaining butter.

If using ramekins, place them on a cookie sheet. Tent them with foil.

If using a baking dish, cover completely with foil.

Bake in a 375 -degree oven for 45 minutes to 1 hour until the custard has set. 

Remove the foil and bake a few extra minutes to let the top(s) brown.

Can be served with Blue Bell ice cream.

Kind. Smart. Important.

Sunday before this past one, TLC and I had a truly memorable day with our dear friend, Clara, and her two charming daughters, Lee and Anna. Clara and I have known each other for eons. I watched Lee and Anna grow up. Then they all watched TLC grow up. We had decided months ago that, when the movie, The Help, finally opened, the five of us would go see it together. I’d read the book last summer and had encouraged these four gals to read it, too. They did. We were like kids anticipating Christmas!

The movie had been out for almost three weeks before we could get our schedules in sync. I went to town and picked Clara and Anna up. Then we went to Lee’s home, thirty-ish miles away, to fetch her. We met TLC at the Movie Tavern on 7^th Street in Ft.Worth. We’d heard nothing but good things about this movie. From real people. Not professional critics. I don’t know about y’all, but I like to listen to my friends’ opinions or judge a movie for myself. Call me cRaZy.

Once settled in our comfy, rockin’ seats (they literally rocked), we got the requisite popcorn and Coke Zeroes (Anna’s fav). We muddled through an eternity of previews, although I’m happy to report we actually enjoyed the majority of them.

Finally, The Help. Over the next two hours, we cherished every second of this masterpiece. No, we didn’t enjoy the inhumanity, insanity and cruelty. It’s unbelievable—and, yet, we know it happened. Still, we marveled at the way it was portrayed on the big screen. In our humble opinions, each actor was PERFECT for her (or his) role. The “look” of the film (is that the cinematography or production design?—not sure of the exact lingo) was amazing. We were there—with the characters—in the 60s.

We’d been advised to take lots o’ tissues. I passed them out when we sat down. We cried. Laughed. Smiled. Frowned. Cringed. Giggled. Shuddered. Laughed some more. Cried some more.

My question: How are any of us ever going to like Bryce Dallas Howard again? How? She made us despise Hilly even more than we did while reading the book. (I’ve been down this road before. After Fatal Attraction, I never could enjoy Michael Douglas movies—or even Glenn Close’s. In fact, I totally avoided seeing movies they were in. I couldn’t forget how despicable he was/how evil she was in that chilling movie. Yes, I get it. That’s simply how fantastic they were/are as actors. Still… my anger at their characters is burned into my brain forever.)

At the end of the movie, the five of us headed to Tillman’s Roadhouse—TLC’s and my most favourite (fancy spelling) Ft. Worth restaurant. It’s across the street from the Movie Tavern. If you’ve never been, and you live anywhere close by, you must make a reservation asap! The food, service, décor, ambience—all exquisitely fabulous. And very reasonable.

Of course we discussed, at great length and over our two-hour lunch, everything about the movie. We had several questions for each other. We tried to remember where the movie had veered off from the book. It seems too short of a time frame to present such a complicated story. We all agreed, though, that they did a superbly excellent job at condensing and adapting it to the screen.

If you haven’t read the book, you really should. Then go see the movie. It’ll touch your heart and make you so mad your face will sting with heat, your hands will shake, you’ll want to punch a few peeps out (mostly Hilly) and you’ll cry (or, as in my case, sob). You’ll be tres relieved when you get to laugh—which, gratefully, is often. It’ll embarrass you—inspire you—hurt you—transform you. If it doesn’t—well, something will be wrong. Just sayin'.

The Fab Five have decided to make this a semi-annual tradition. Clearly we can’t go see The Help each time—(or, could we?). But we’re certain there will be other kind/smart/important movies (if you don’t get this reference, you’re behind—catch up!) and memories.

Faretheewell . . .

As The Years Fly By . . .

Friday was our 33^rd wedding anniversary! Hubby and I welcomed TLC home that night for a holiday weekend visit. Her Hubby had gone bird hunting with Prince Henry. She is always the perfect gift for all of our celebrations.

There are so many songs on my iPod that make me think of my Sweet Man and our life together. But this song, by one of my most all-time favorite singers ever, Martina McBride, feels as though it was written about the two of us, specifically. Please enjoy this American poetry:

All The Things We’ve Never Done

By Craig Bickhardt and Jeff Pennig

They drank their anniversary glass

A silent moment passed

Then they kissed

She knows there’s something on his mind

He’ll tell her in due time

What it is

He says, “I’ve never built

Your mansion on a hill

Or warmed you in the Spanish sun

I simply blink my eye

And think as years fly by

Of all the things we’ve never done”

She smiles and takes his hand in hers

And says, “It just occurred

To me now

The thought that brings you such regret

What hasn’t happened yet

It makes me proud... “

“You never walked away

When I needed you to stay

Or made me feel I’m not the one

There’ve been no broken vows

And the reason we’re here now

Is all the things we’ve never done”

“We’ve never grown apart

You never broke my heart

With secrets that you’ve kept me from

We’ve never been untrue

And I’m still here with you

Through all the things we’ve never done.”

From the first time I heard this song until this exact moment, I cannot listen to the words without getting teary. (I’ve now discovered I can’t type the words without putting my head on my desk and crying.)

My Husband was my fate. I knew it almost from the moment we met. After I got a B.B.A. in 1976, I landed a job working for his best friend in 1977. Matlock introduced us. (And, in a “full circle” kind of way, he officiated TLC’s wedding 31 ½ years later.) Hubby had four sons—from the ages of 2 to 12—and they became my instant family the day we married at a tiny Episcopal Church in a small Texas town. My step-sons are good men, good brothers to TLC and wonderful fathers.

September 2, 1978

Our Reception was held at our first home.

All of the photos were taken by friends.

We didn't have an "official" photographer.

Me and one of my most cherished friends from college, Lizzie.

Hubby made sure we had the chance to have (click on the link!) our own child and I had complete faith God would bless him with a daughter. Ten years later, he supported me every single second during (click on the link!) my breast cancer.

I went completely deaf in my left ear almost three years ago. Suddenly and unexpectedly. I still grieve—too often. I’m profoundly grateful I didn’t lose my right ear; however, I’m not going to lie—I struggle. I get angry. I feel guilty. Hubby patiently sympathizes with me when I feel sorry for myself. His unconditional love gives me strength I’m fairly certain I don’t deserve.

In 33 years, I’ve dented and torn up countless cars/trucks/SUVs. We hadn’t been married a year when I backed my Blazer into his Monte Carlo. Yep, I did. In our driveway. I don’t cook very often (but have I ever mentioned what a FABULOUS Cook/Chef/Dutch Oven and BBQ King he is?). I make him watch too many chick flicks. I don’t like to fish—or go camping. I don’t play golf. I complain when we have to stop at Lowe’s, but constantly ask him, after being in Target for an hour, “Just twenty more minutes, okay?” I get cranky and whiny too often. For the 34 years I’ve been honored to share his life, he’s made me laugh harder than anyone else on Earth. He puts up with my quirks and shenanigans. He calms my fears and encourages me to search for my happiness and peace. He’s smart, handsome (oh, those Sean Connery eyes), wise, kind, funny (VERY), sweet. Beyond dependable. Yet full of silly.

Most of all, he’s “NEVER walked away when I needed" him to stay.

Happy Anniversary, JTC… I can’t wait to celebrate our 50^th (yes, you’ll be 84—and still the Best Person I’ll Have Ever Known.)

All my love, always…

Sweet September

Yesterday was our 65^th day of temperatures, in North Central Texas, of 100 degrees—or higher. It’s been mostly “higher.” Lovely. This summer has been beyond brutal. Our drought continues and is downright frightening. There are too many fires and some are getting too close to our home.

Despite the daily struggle to cope with this Hotter Than Hades Challenge, August brought me many wonderful things!

On August 1^st, a handsome bull calf (who probably had a Charolais Dad) was born to an Angus cow I named Little Mama (okay—not hugely original). Two more cows—Sugar Mama and Sugar Baby—are due any moment. I clearly have a “theme” to my names. My first theme—for four Texas Longhorn steers—was male Country singing stars. Hence, we had Cash and Willie (no explanations necessary, right?), Stoney (LaRue) and Rodney (Atkins).  My next theme was female Country singing stars: we had Loretta, Reba and Martina. I named this little calf Buffalo—because there was a very rare white buffalo born near Dallas right before (click here) the Mavs won the NBA Championship in June. Our Buffalo is a cutie-patootie, don’t you agree?

While Hubby and I were in Ruidoso for a few nights a couple of weeks ago, we got 3 ½ inches of rain! At our home in Texas, that is. But it also rained in New Mexico, too. Yippee! We’re behind close to thirty inches, but it was WONDERFUL. We were (and still are) deeply grateful. Animals, birds, bushes, grasses—every living thing—is suffering and in pain. We’re losing trees by the day. After every rain, though, most “sage” bushes in Texas (and, I’m sure, everywhere that has sage) bloom with beautiful purple (although they may appear to be pink) flowers. Hubby and I can count on it—even in the winter. I took this picture at our gate a week after the rain. There’s another bush on the other side—both were stunning.

On August 16^th, Hubby and I “adopted” a 4-year-old chocolate Lab. (click here to read When Henry Met Teddy).  We haven’t had a dog for many years. Cobbler and Morty live in our Barn (although they do, of course, venture over for daily visits). This life-changing decision will continue to be an adjustment for both of us (apparently we thought that at 57 and 67 we had way too much time on our hands). The moment we saw him, we fell in love and happily brought him home. Two days later we learned, from our Vet, he has two heartworms. We'd never considered that possibility. Once he’s had the treatment, it won’t be easy—he has to stay “quiet” for five to six weeks. I’ll be changing my schedule even more than I already have to make sure he heals. He gives us unexpected and tremendous joy. We can’t wait to tell the other: “Guess what Teddy just did?” Like a baby or toddler has moved in with us. As I type this, he’s sleeping next to my desk. How did we get so lucky?

This is a picture of Teddy by our “outhouse” (my idea, when we built our home, for a well house—it’s not an authentic outdoor bathroom—thank the Lord). The beautiful flowers are lantana. They adore the Texas heat—obviously! Our lantana greets Hubby and me, as we top our hill, with vibrant flowers so yellow, they’re almost orange. Even a gal whose favourite (fancy spelling) color is Sky Blue can appreciate what the color yellow does for our spirits, right? You simply have to be cheerful when you see yellow. It’s actually a law, I believe. Our lantana blooms for almost five months out of the year. Hallelujah!

When I look back on the eighth month of this heartbreaking/sorrowful/confusing year, and I think of our fellow Americans who have suffered through hurricanes and floods, I have to believe that all of us—all over the United States and the World—will find a way to somehow cope with these tragedies. We must continue to wake up—each morning—and face whatever comes with courage and determination. We must carry on. We must embrace the beauty that comes to each of us—at some point during our daily life—no matter how small or seemingly insignificant that beauty is—with thankful hearts.

I’m looking forward to this ninth month of the year with hope, faith and trust. Not only because Hubby and I will celebrate thirty-three years of marriage tomorrow, but also because we will (surely!) have cooler days and nights—deep, nurturing rains—more of God’s Amazing Grace.

Hasta La Vista, August Baby! ADIOS.