Our rip-roarin' plans.

I grew up having very loud, very large New Year's Eve parties with our extended family. However, once Mr. Maricucu and I were married we immediately moved about 900 miles away from family and had to come up with our own traditions. Since Thanksgiving and Christmas take about all the cooking mojo out of us, by New Year's Eve we're crawling to the finish line on that last drop of gas.




Our super exciting plans include stocking the freezer with all those forbidden little morsels of fat+flour found at Costco or BJ's. We make a meal of heavy hors d'oeuvres, nosh on fruit and then a little heavenly bite of something sweet. Now with kids we break out the sparkling cider at dinnertime to let them celebrate as well. After the kids are in bed it's a race - to see who can make it to midnight without falling asleep on the couch. Whooo boy we are super cool. But hey, it works for us. It likely doesn't help that tragedy struck our family on New Year's Eve 7 years ago with some genius who decided to drive after a few too many.




Praying that 2010 is a blessed year for your family. That it bring you health, joy and peace.

Oh dear, sweet children of mine.

Apples of my eye, fruit of my womb. I love you dearly and because I'm your mom, have a right to give a little unsolicited advice. Get ready 'cause this is going to rock your world - if you don't want to get sick stop licking random play equipment at the park. I don't care if your brother dared you. Or the checkout line at the supermarket - eww, seriously. Better yet, when you are incubating whatever bug you've picked up by engaging in daredevil behavior, don't come up to your momma to hug and love on her then sneeze directly on her face. Because sure enough, just as you and your siblings are on the tail end of illness, bounding with life and ready to tackle the world momma and daddy will be laid up on the couch at the mercy of the dogs and the love we have for each other.

Man, that's a record.

Typically any craft supplies that make it through my front door get a little of what I'll call aging time. In reality it means they sit, for a while and many times become something that wasn't even the original intent. But hey if something gets made at all I'm happy.

However, this yarn has a deadline attached to it and since the recipient is not family I cannot use the usual "family understands if I'm late" excuse. So last night I cast on this beautiful cowl aptly named Fear of Commitment.




Since then, I've been cranking out row after row of seeded stitch and I can't wait to get it packed up with a few more goodies for this special person. The color was hard to capture but it's closer to this second picture than the first.

Be afraid, be very afraid . . .

Thanks to a techie loving husband I now have video capability. Just working on something in the kitchen better portrayed through video:




Not much sound to this one because it was a demo for the first step of this lovely beauty:

Life is funny.

Today we had a pretty enjoyable day as a family. Ran an errand, had lunch and then hit the park. But first I had to stop at Joann's for some yarn. I needed this yarn, yes needed, for a swap project and wanted to get a head start. After narrowing down my choices to two types of yarn I headed for the cash registers to make my final decision while waiting in line. I turned to the kind looking older woman behind me to ask her which yarn felt softer to her. She thoroughly felt both and gave me her opinion, then turned to her teenage granddaughter and asked her as well. Once I had her input and made my decision we continued to chat. She told me that she used to own a yarn shop! In fact, turns out that she owned a local yarn store that is now quite popular. Talk about asking the right person's opinion. On the other hand Mr. Maricucu finds it quite unnerving that I start conversations with random strangers so easily.

Here's the beautiful roving yarn I chose and the buttons to match.




Can I say how much I love that huge round wooden button? I just want to attach a brooch back to it and plant it on any top I wear. Love it.

Memories in food.

As usual, another holiday recorded by the food we serve. I find it a bit comforting to smell the same aromas wafting out of my kitchen that I remember smelling at my mom's house. The only thing missing was my dad's huge stereo blasting out merengue and salsa, but I'll live.

So let's start with dessert. Typically a Dominican Christmas Eve meal isn't heavy on baked desserts. Usually there's a spread including many varieties of turron, nuts in their shell, dried fruit, chewy white brach's jelly nougats and not much else. The star is the main meal but having a very strong sweet tooth and growing up in the states I craved something a little more. So I dove into my freezer fruit stash and put together a blueberry buttermilk cake as well as a peach version. I'll admit I'd never made this recipe before so I took a chance in doubling right off the bat but the cake didn't disappoint. Mr. Maricucu requested a sweet potato pie which the kids devoured with as equal gusto as the cakes.




My parents, being the food mules they are for this far away daughter came up with a stash of pasteles en hoja. These are plantain and root veggie puree pockets stuffed with a savory meat filling, wrapped in a plantain leaf (or foil) and steamed. I'll readily admit that while I find these utterly delicious, they can be a bit strange for someone who did not grow up eating them. Poor Mr. Maricucu was dutifully sent home with one while we were dating and at least had the foresight to take off the foil and plantain leaf before digging in despite my lack of instructions. Alas he wasn't impressed but hey he tried.




My mom worked her magic on the potato salad. I'm not a potato salad person but this is the only one I will eat. Very simple, well made and well seasoned but no eggs. Shudder.




Never fear, I didn't have my poor mom slaving away in the kitchen by herself. I made the pork according to my mom's recipe but I need to tweak my listening skills just a tad. It wasn't bad but mine came out a bit more dry than hers.




The poor pig didn't suffer in vain though. With the juices and drippings my made made a heck of a good moro (black bean and rice pilaf). Seriously good stuff and the perfect side dish for our Noche Buena.




Of course it wouldn't be Christmas Eve dinner without a batch of pastelitos to snack on while we waited for the food to cook. Yes, I ate all of this and yes I'm still recuperating from the huge meal but it was so worth it.

Don't complain . . .

. . . that you don't like the pictures I posted of you on the blog if every time I approach you with a camera you do this.




Instead, chill. Relax. Crack a smile and remember in the legacy we leave our families are included the snapshots of us in every stage of life. Remember that your daughter loves you and despite trying to get pictures of you in embarrassing poses when she was a kid, this time around she naturally wants to capture your spirit in order to show the kids when you are far away. Then be sure to remind that same daughter when she runs away from the camera. But don't threaten to take embarrassing pictures of her and post them on facebook when you're not even on there yet. I'm on to you Dad. Love ya.



Disclaimer: Marielle is in no way forcing her father to be on the blog or in pictures. This is all in good fun.

Merry Christmas and Feliz Navidad.

Wishing you and your family a peaceful and loving Christmas wherever you may be. Being Latins our big to do is on Christmas Eve so right about now I'm recovering from a huge meal while resting on the couch. Hoping that your night tonight or tomorrow is as uneventful as mine.

The eagles have landed.

Our surprise is here and in full swing. Straight from Florida Abuelo and Abuela have arrived in a whirlwind matching only that of the grandchildren they are visiting.




Abuela dove right into playing checkers, hugging and lovingly doing dishes for this very tired Momma.




Abuelo served as living art while he napped on the couch. The kids kept taking turns poking him and seeing if he would wake up. The man sleeps like the dead.

Let me step away from all the holiday hoopla . . .

. . . to show you what I'm definitely going to be watching in January.




It's going to be beyond hysterical to watch these cooks (poor things were actually nominated by friends and family). Not because I consider myself some amazing cook but because let's be honest here, we allll have our days when what comes out of the kitchen resembles more wishful thinking than something edible. In fact, I remember being utterly shocked when I found out that my aunt of the pastelito/catering fame, awesome cook that she is apparently couldn't cook worth a lick even as a grown woman. My parents told me the story of the meatballs that looked like turds and tasted shall we say, slightly worse. In my own history are the red beans I made for my dad as a teen which I tried to recreate by looks instead of taste and had my dad chugging Pepto that evening. Who knew that my mom did not add ketchup, worcestershire sauce, A1 sauce, mustard and barbecue sauce to her beans? Obviously not me. So I'll be curling up with Mr. Maricucu to cheer on Chef Burrell (one of my faves) while she gets a couple of home cooks into culinary shape and enjoying the follies of those who don't make it all the way.

Gifts.

So, in a small home with no attic save that which is left for roof circulation and no basement where do you hide the gifts? In plain sight. All wrapped and finally no longer hogging up my closet are the gifts. How much in sight are these?




This is the living room shelf, about as central as you can get in our cozy home. Funny thing is the kids didn't even notice until Mr. Maricucu mentioned something about some shiny packages being up high. Although, I'll be the first to admit that the one itching for them to open their gifts the most is me.

Ahhh the scent of Christmas.

No, no, no not cinnamon, cloves or pine. For me Christmas doesn't begin to register until this paste of garlic, oregano and cider vinegar is blended and slathered on a hunk of pork.




Tada! Ready and waiting in the freezer until next week when he'll make his debut along with his siblings moro (rice cooked with beans), potato salad and pasteles en hoja (our dominican answer to tamales).

Hey Chicken Little . . .

The sky is falling, the sky is falling! At least if you were to believe the local media who had their reporters staked out at every grocery store Thursday to get the latest status report on who was running out of bread, milk and eggs. Friday was the big day for s-n-o-w.

Mr. Maricucu laughs at me because I don't watch the weather, I just stick my head out the front door sometime in the morning and make a good guess for the rest of the day. Which is why the mass hysteria at Costco on Thursday was a surprise. I was doing my annual "grocery shop before Christmas so I don't have to step foot in a store until after the 26th" run.




How much snow were we central North Carolinians expected to receive you say? A whopping two inches that didn't even stick to the ground.




For those of you not living in the South that little dusting paralyzes the city. Schools shut down, businesses have employees telecommute because the kids are at home and the department of transportation hauls out the salt trucks for the main highways only. See? No snow on the ground.




Of course he had to taste it. Who knows if he caught it or picked it up off the ground. I'm not even sure I want to know.




Can you tell my second son was thrilled to be out in the cold? He wouldn't last a minute up north.




My Frankensteinish project continues. As you might have guessed I'm working on baby's waldorf doll and for now all I have to show for it is a bunch of limbs which thankfully were stuffed full of wool after these pictures.

White Velvet Cutouts

White velvet cutouts are the happy medium between a butter cookie and a sugar cookie. This cookie is not super sweet so I usually sprinkle on a little bit of course sugar which gives just the right amount of texture as well as an added hint of sweetness. But there was always one problem - these are supposed to be rolled out and cut out with cookie cutters. Now call me lazy or blame it on my ADD, I put rolling out batch after batch of cookies right up there with having to fill and crimp hundreds of pastelitos and you know what I think of that. My kids love to roll and cut out the cookies but being kids they last all of 8.6 minutes before they've lost interest.

How to fix the dilemma? Just convert the recipe to a slice and bake cookie. Then voila! No rolling pin, floured counter, intricate cookie cutters or multiple chilling steps. Just a deliciously festive cookie you can crank out with one hand tied behind your back.

White Velvet Cutouts
adapted from All Recipes

1 cup (2 sticks) butter - softened. I use salted butter and feel this recipe really needs it.
3 oz (6 tablespoons) cream cheese - softened
1 cup granulated sugar
1 egg yolk
2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon vanilla extract


Mixing this up is super simple. Just plop in the mixing bowl the butter, cream cheese and sugar then mix for a few minutes until light, fluffy and the sugar has dissolved.




Once the mixture is creamed, add the egg yolks and vanilla. Mix again. No you're not going crazy, those are two egg yolks. As usual I'm doubling up the recipe.




Mmmmmmm, fluffy.




Stir in the flour and mix well until just combined. Don't overbeat at this point but you'll want to scrape down the bowl halfway to make sure there are no pockets of flour on the bottom of the bowl.






At this point I'll kindly direct you to stick your face in this bowl. The smell of cream cheese and vanilla is amazing. Now grab a hunk of cookie dough and feel it. Smooth, soft and not sticky, just about the perfect playdough. Although if we used this as playdough I doubt much would be left over.




This dough needs to chill overnight. The fat needs to firm up and the flour will finish hydrating making a firmer dough for rolling out (if that's your thing) or just firming up enough to slice and bake. This is how I fill my kids' need to roll out cookies with my need to have cookies without fuss. I plop about two mixing spoonfuls of dough on a sheet of plastic wrap and flatten into a disc for chilling.




Two kids = two discs and you know exactly why. Baby doesn't roll out dough just yet.




The rest of the dough I dump out onto a piece of parchment paper, roll it into a log about 2" in diameter then roll the parchment paper around and secure.




Yes I secure it with clothespins, my all purpose kitchen utensil. I haven't actually used clothespins for hanging up clothes since I was a kid but boy do I use them a ton in the kitchen. You can wrap this up in plastic wrap if if you don't have parchment paper. Then chill overnight in the fridge.




The next day unwrap your log 'o loveliness and preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Looks pretty plain though, let's gussy her up.




Grab some course sugar, sprinkles or fairy dust and dump that out onto your unwrapped parchment.




Then firmly roll the log of cookie dough in the sugar. You might have to hand patch some spots since we're human and our logs/cylinders are rarely smooth and perfect. Just do the the best you can.




Let's see red (my favorite color)? Check. Sparkly? Check. Sweet? Check.




Slice the log into scant 1/2" thick rounds and place them onto a parchment lined baking sheet about an inch apart. Mine were a bit close in this shot.




Bake for 12-15 minutes or until the cookies just begin to brown around the edges. I know, everyone strives for that pristine all white sugar cookie but if you don't bake the cookies until they're tinged with brown it will taste floury and flat. Taken to this point instead and you'll have a complex, almost browned butter taste.




Cool and store in an airtight container.




Or eat them all Cookie Monster style. Either way, they're delicious. My attempt at a cookie wreath. See? I can do festive.

Yikes, the paparazzi have found me.

And they're pretty persistent. However, being 4 and 6 year old boys they are easily distracted still by the non-camera holding brother's antics, silly faces and um, bodily noises. I've bequeathed my children the first digital camera I ever owned. It's a 2 megapixel cybershot purchased when I was pregnant with my oldest child and yes it's still kicking.




I will admit it was a tiny bit freaky to see them pressing every button, figuring out the menu functions in a matter of minutes. I've reached the point that I don't bother with learning my cell phone functions beyond answering a call.

To say I felt old and outdated is an understatement.



How can I not smile when he smiles behind the camera and orders me to say cheese?