Homemade Vanilla

Finally! After I regained the ability to breathe through both nostrils we headed off to the grand opening of a local downtown farmer's market and then something possessed me to finally go take a look at my neglected garden which explains the delay. More on that another day.




So why make homemade vanilla? Well, I grew up baking with Dominican vanilla which typically is imitation vanilla if it's the clear pastry kind. I never had to buy vanilla in the states because every trip to the US, my grandmother or someone else would come with several large plastic jugs of vanilla ready to distribute. Seriously my parents have been in the states since 1980 and even in North Carolina my mom would dutifully bring me my jugs of vanilla. What's the big deal about Dominican vanilla? Well much like those people who've tasted Mexican vanilla it's just much more intense. When it's real vanilla it's quite floral and heady and even when it's the imitation stuff it knocks the socks off anything you can find here in the states. But I didn't want to keep using the imitation stuff and I figured at some point the federal agents would no longer allow people to bring back large jugs of fluid no matter how they'd been labeled. I purchased a couple of real vanilla extracts both in brick and mortar stores as well as online but blegh. The extracts had a very harsh chemical after taste and I was less than impressed with the difference in taste between the preferred bourbon vanilla beans and the tahitian notes I'd been accustomed to.

So in 2007 I began to do a little vanilla research. In Marielle-speak that means I stayed up wayyyy too late for 2-3 weeks reading up everything google could spew on my screen about making vanilla. With too much information and not any closer to a decision I stumbled across this egullet thread, the paragon for foodies gone extreme. All kidding aside, I appreciate a super-researcher of any variety so the information helped me come up with a plan. I ordered tahitian beans from Vanilla Products USA, who at the time was only selling on ebay. Yes, I bought vanilla beans from ebay. I think that was one of those rare instances that had Mr. Maricucu raising an eyebrow. Undeterred I had him buy me a bottle of vodka and put together my first batch. After a few weeks, the liquor was definitely vanilla infused but still heady of vodka. Four months into the batch, the extract was stronger but I was having doubts about this experiment panning out and ready to dial up abuela to see about setting up an import scenario as a fail safe. But then I did something amazing. I forgot about the vanilla for another couple of months. One day I was going to make a pound cake and remembered the vanilla in my pantry. Pulled it out and eureka!, dark extract heady of vanilla and not Smirnoff's. I poured a scant amount into a little cup of milk and tasted. Oh yeah, I had made vanilla extract! My first pound cake with the new vanilla had Mr. Maricucu asking me what I had changed in the recipe, it was delicious. My parents visited shortly after and I made them a batch of pound cake as well. My dad quickly declared that it tasted like "back in DR" and my mom began to brew her own extract as well.

Making homemade extract is really one of those super simple, great return on minimal investment tasks. Just grab a bottle of liquor - I stick with something middle of the road like Smirnoff's. No reason really, I just figured for making extract I didn't have to pull out the Grey Goose. All you need is a flavorless liquor to infuse with the vanilla beans. But just like I wouldn't swing to buying the high end stuff, I didn't want to tempt fate by doing this with Everclear. I figured even with the small amounts of vanilla in recipes you don't want to go for something that's known to be a gutbuster. It can't mean anything for good flavor but I'm a non drinker so what do I know. Pick what you like and let's get to work! A good ratio is 12 vanilla beans for every 750ml bottle of vodka.




Once you've done the walk of shame or pride (depending on your circumstances) out of the liquor store you'll need to get vanilla beans. What you're looking for is a plump, oily bean that bowls you over with aroma. When we were first married Mr. Maricucu and I were attempting to make a homemade vanilla bean custard ice cream. Being a couple of DINKs (Dual Income, No Kids) we just shopped for it like we did all our groceries. Pay what the tag says. So we paid about $8 for one bean that was so dried out it crunched under the knife as we attempted to split it. This time around I had been around at least half the block so I ended up ordering via Vanilla Products USA. What arrived were two vacuum sealed packs of very oily vanilla beans that left an aroma filled residue on my hands when I handled them. I think I did a little happy dance in the kitchen that day. The beans I used in this last batch were leftovers from the first beans I bought in 2007. Yup, 3 year old vanilla beans but I had resealed them using the foodsaver back then and kept them in a dark place. If you don't have a vacuum sealer feel free to double bag your extra vanilla beans. I kept some in their bean format to use for ice cream that summer until my vanilla was ready. Definitely try some fresh vanilla bean in an ice cream, creme brulee or just good old fashioned cake. Amazing stuff.








First pour off about an ounce of vodka from your bottle to account for displacement by the vanilla beans. I pour mine into one of the older bottles I had brewing but who am I to tell you what to do with your own surplus?




Then grab a bean and cut it down the center lengthwise. This will expose the tiny flecks of vanilla bean inside the pod and will help infuse your vodka that much better.




Next, chop the two bean halves into 1-2" long pieces. Why? Well the first time I made vanilla I only split the beans and indeed it makes for an elegant presentation. But then I quickly realized that as my vanilla level dropped, the bean was left standing out of the vodka and not infusing the stuff at the bottom. So I fished those out (that was a pain!) and chopped them down.




Next, dump your vanilla bean pieces into the bottle of vodka until you've chopped all twelve.






Label your bottle - I go for the no frills masking tape in my kitchen drawer but you can get a little fancy schmancy if you're the paper crafts type. I'm not and am afraid to go there considering my penchant for collecting craft supplies. You'll see that with just one shake of the bottle the vodka has already begun to change color to a lightish tan. Just place your bottle of proto-vanilla into the pantry and give it a shake whenever you remember it's there.




After at least six months (but you can go longer), you'll have this:




Here it is held up to the sunlight so you can appreciate the dark amber hue.




This is nothing like the stuff you'll find at the grocery store and dare I say it gives that snobby brand beginning with a N&M a run for their money. You'll definitely spend less than buying the N&M brand and yours will be amazing. Most extracts have that chemical aftertaste or worse are doctored up with glycerin to make them sweet. If you want to taste your vanilla to gauge its progress, add a few drops to a small cup of milk - never taste it straight lest you think I've led you astray.

And here's my lineup from that day. From left to right: My current bottle of vanilla, a bottle that had I finished up and topped off with more vodka (added another two chopped beans but mostly it's repurposing the previous batch's beans), then the two new bottles that are brewing. Yes you can top off old bottles, I would just recommend always having two bottles, the one you're using and the one you've topped off to allow it a bit more time to brew.

Why vanilla was postponed.

First, let me whine a little. And if you don't like to hear whining then skip down to the last half of this post. I'm all of 5 feet tall and short torsoed. Which means barely any room in my torso to begin with. Then I get pregnant with my husband's super long offspring and sometime in the third trimester I'm eating supermodel portions not by choice but because anything more in such a limited space and it's reflux city. Breathing? What's that? I don't take a normal deep breath again until I've literally pushed out a baby. Beautiful picture huh? So on Friday I was gifted yet another one of my beautiful, children's colds. Which pretty much had me tired but not much else. Then bam! on Saturday I could barely breathe and with no sleep was pretty much useless all day long. Thank the Lord for a husband that takes as good care of me as my own mother would. Seriously, kids fed & entertained? Check. Marielle fed and sleeping like a wheezing baby? Check. Laundry done? Check. Dinner cooked and cleaned up? Check. Blessedly on Sunday after he had to go work for a few hours and run errands, a friend brought over a meal to give the poor guy a break and our family some nourishment. I avoided pneumonia and even though I sound like Carol Channing am on the mend and can semi-breathe. So that was our weekend and I was all set to come back and hit you with my vanilla method. But then something else happened.




My little sis went and had herself a beautiful little baby girl! She who is now breathing freely, welcomed baby A., the adorable little sister to 3 very proud and loving older brothers. To say she's going to be spoiled is an understatement. Isn't technology wonderful? My too-cool-to-be-old-fogie parents sent me the cell phone pics and I was able to admire her right away. The only thing I'm missing is smushing on those beautiful cheeks in real time. Congratulations to my little sis and my brother in law as they welcome their newest blessing.

Why do I only remember to buy liquor when I'm pregnant?

Now don't go getting all in a huff that the pregnant lady is hitting the bottle. It just always seems I get a severe urge to make more vanilla extract while I'm pregnant. I'm guessing because I know it will brew while I'm heavily babymooning and thus I'm still multi-tasking. Yes it's a sickness.

Last week while Mr. Maricucu was in the car and could stay with the kids I stopped by the ABC store (North Carolina's government run liquor stores) and made a run. While I will brave the judging eyes with my protruding belly what I will not do is take my three into a small store stocked top to bottom with glass bottles. My mom didn't raise a fool. Well at least this sibling, I can't vouch for my sister and brother.* So I go in the store to stock up on more vodka for the vanilla and finally remembered that I needed to get margarita fixings. No, people I'm not drinking margaritas. Mr. Maricucu is not much of a drinker but he does enjoy a margarita every now and then so I figured it might be nice to make them at home. Of course, I know as much about mixing drinks as I do about rocket science. Actually my knowledge of mixed drinks is likely in the negative territory while rocket science is squarely on the zero. So the poor little old man that was manning the counter gave me an impromptu lesson on tequila. I'm sure he totally believed my story that it was for my husband. As I was walking back to the car with my bottles of vodka, tequila and triple sec Mr. Maricucu was giggling to himself at the thought of his expecting wife and the looks she must have gotten while in the store. Eh, it works for me.

So sometime this week a little tutorial on how I make my vanilla. For the record I didn't go on a vodka buying binge, the two bottles on the left were ones already in my possession. Like a proper child of my mother I find it hard to let go of perfectly good bottles and reuse with abandon.

* Marielle's brother and sister's aren't fools but since they are her siblings she is allowed to tease them mercilessly. Anyone not blood related to H. and B. better back off because Marielle has been known to defend her siblings. 'Nuff said.

I've got a super power.

Oh yes I do and you might want to sit down before I lay it all out. I have a skill, a talent, so finely honed that I consider it a super power along the lines of Mr. Maricucu's beloved X-Men, League of Whatchamcallits (he's going to kill me for that one) and Superman.

Okay, so take a deep breath and clear your mind. My. Super. Power. Is.




I hold birthday gifts hostage. What? Doesn't impress you? Or does it not qualify as a super power but more of an evil genius power? Oh I'm quite serious about this. Without any effort on my part whatsoever, I will buy birthday gifts months in advance. Then I will carefully place them in a safe place (read: away from the kids) and forget about them. Then I will call the loved one I so esteem on their special day and midway through the conversation mention that their gift will be in the mail soon. Then I hang up and get caught up with the kid intent on using that screwdriver he found but on something without screws. Or the child who insists she has a super power too - the ability not to crack her skull. Or the one who's so eerily quiet that I go on a hunt to see what he's done with a lump in my throat. And that, folks, is when my super power kicks in. I then proceed to cycle between forgetting to pack up the gift and remembering but only when a sleeping child is in my arms or when I wake up to pee at 3am. Over and over, the weeks go by, *blush* the months go by. And these are people I actually love. I'd hate to think what a poor soul would suffer if I really didn't like them.




You would think that with the ability to craft this super power would have lost its stronghold on me. I mean, I have the supplies in house, then there's me in the house and the shipping supplies are also in the house. Heck my mail carrier will pick up the darned package right at my doorstop. Has that helped? You underestimate my only-slightly-less-impressive ability to procrastinate. I mean I've only been doing that since birth (quite literally I think I was a few days late). So now instead of forgetting to mail a gift that's in the closet, the gift now needs to make it out of this snare that is my mind, into fruition and meet its fate in gift limbo.




How impressive is this awesome skill of mine? My sister in law's birthday is in September, my mother in law's in October and my niece in February. They all live in the same household, and I still have their gifts in my possession. Oh and if we're being honest here, the last one is still ensnared in my mind. Blessedly Mr. Maricucu remembers his brother in law's birthday like a person with normal brain receptors and actually orders him a manly magazine subscription on time for his birthday. On time people! There are people out there who get out gifts on time. Tsk, tsk those mere mortals.




So I finished my sister in law's gift last year, and now I've finally finished my mother in law's gift. She's had some surgeries on her back and I figured a nice rice wrap and matching eye rice pad would come in handy for hot/cold therapy. Yes that's my mother in law that sends me free fabric pretty often. The rice wrap is about 39" x 6". I segmented the wrap about every 5 inches and sewed a line of stitching down the width to keep the rice from ending up all at one end. Very easy, just a little tedious to fill, pin back the rice and then stitch each section up.








The eye pads are about 8"x4" and a lot easier as they're filled just once. I've been swiping Mr. Maricucu's eye pad for those days when I have a sneaking headache and a cool, heavy eye pad is heavenly. I did not contour the nose area of these pads since I found that the rice is easy to mold around the bridge of the nose. The second one is made of scraps from my grocery bags and is headed to my mom who suffers from sinus issues.






So now, I must harness the nesting that is sure to last oh but briefly and make my niece's gift. Thankfully, my loving family members all still speak to me and appreciate their gifts even if they are obnoxiously late. So what's your super power?

A little excitement before the weekend.

Growing up, my family had one cardinal rule. No one ever goes to or stays in the hospital alone. Much like the marines and their "never leave a marine behind" command, in our family we took shifts, called on friends and pretty much ensured that a person was not alone in the hospital. No we're not paranoid but in an imperfect world with many shift changes a human can make an error so a loved one keeping a watchful eye helped reduce that risk drastically. That person would also serve as an advocate for someone likely under sedation or too weak to persist in requesting comfort measures.




Well I'm here to say the tradition continues. Here's my crew at the hospital ER while poor Mr. Maricucu was being seen for kidney stone pain. Bad cell phone pic but even if I did have my camera I think they would have poorly on me trying to snap pictures at the emergency room. Mr. Maricucu is not usually one to complain about smaller symptoms so when he called me to tell me he was coming home early and panting through pain I knew it was not just back pain. Sure enough, a couple of hours later instead of heading to our family doctor the whole crew was packed and ready to head to the ER. Once there they sat still for a good 2-3 hours and munched on the food I had hastily packed up preparing for the worst. We tried every hand sanitizer station, discovered all the bathrooms and spoke with both police officers on duty. I steered them away from a TV playing one of the most gruesome vampire movies I've ever seen (hello?) until we found the little kid section which was a mixed blessing. When Mr. Maricucu was called back to be seen he told me to go ahead and stay in the lobby thinking it would be easier on me. Three hours into the ordeal I asked which room he was in and found that they had yet to do any type of diagnostic procedures on him. I camped the three kids and me in the small room while I peppered the now surprised nurse and PA about the course of action. Thankfully I touched bases with a friend who sent her husband to rescue my two older boys from the boredom of the ER and unleashed them in their backyard to play then fed them dinner. Finally, after a cat scan, an IV bag and a whole bunch of sitting around waiting Mr. Maricucu was sent out with a little less pain, some prescriptions and a referral. He's recovering now and doing well. Definitely not our idea of fun and now we get to sit around and wait some more on the hospital's idea of fair billing.

Pausing for a bit.

The other day I left the baby napping at home with Mr. Maricucu while the boys and I visited the local museum of science. I don't know what it is about sibling dynamics but it doesn't matter how many kids you have, remove one from the equation and suddenly the leftover ones are totally different. I imagine a good bit has to be the parent who is used to running on all cylinders and hyper aware of what the kids are into suddenly feeling just a teensy bit more leisurely. I know it's going to get a little hectic in just a few months and this seems to be tradition to slow down with the kids a little more in preparation (or perhaps just a heavy dose of mama guilt after being so snappy and hormonal).

After walking around the exhibits we ended up in the discovery room which is hands on all the time. I caught my 4 year old staring out of the window wondering what had caught his eye in our pedestrian downtown area.




Ahhh, of course. A sandpit and construction vehicles are always a big hit. This is the intended site of a brand new nature center that will be a hit I'm sure.




Then both boys split up according to their personalities. My younger one found a little niche and plenty of puzzles. He delved right in and didn't move an inch.




While his older brother covered territory across the room and back. First a quick peek at the museum's bee hive.






Then the hide table to identify various animals.




Not five minutes later I saw this scene. Now as the mother of this child I find it highly entertaining that as a toddler he would cling to me for at least the first half of any new situation/location before attempting to explore on his own. I filled that need of his to have me play homebase but never did I imagine that he would walk up to a kid at a museum and just ask for help then introduce himself and ask her to be his friend. The little girl, a year or two older than him, graciously agreed.




And so they spent the rest of the afternoon side by side while I tried to keep my distance. Sniff. He's growing up.




Feeling just a bit unnecessary I went back to peek on my puzzle builder. Yup, still there.




I find it an entirely amazing and bittersweet process to watch the boys grow up so fast. I remember holding my oldest in arms, just barely a few days old and speaking to an aunt of mine over the phone. She asked me if I was smelling the top of his head and finding it hard to stop myself from kissing him. I shyly admitted that yes, yes I had. She replied, "Go ahead and kiss him some more. Snuggle him as much as you can because in the blink of an eye he will be grown up and moving fast. Enjoy this now." Truer words were never spoken.

TV by proxy.

I've mentioned before how I watch a lot of TV by proxy. I've got my husband on the hook for letting me know what eventually happens on Lost despite me not having watched anything past the first season. I'm sort of addicted to The Movie Spoiler because I can satisfy my curiosity about a horror flick without having to watch the darned thing and end up replaying it in my head. Yes that totally makes sense to me. Here's a tip: TMS also works great for those very involved multilayered plots that leave you gasping and saying, "no way!" at the end. You can go back through the synopsis to reprocess all those foreshadowing details again and again. What? People don't do that? Do people actually leave a movie without replaying it over and over in their heads while annoying their significant other exclaiming about plot points at random times the following week? Huh, go figure.

Another show that we started watching together but I quickly forgot to keep watching, was Can We Duet. Great show put on by Country Music Television where existing duets (or soloists who are paired up) battled it out a la American Idol without the sickeningly sweet bubble gum pop. The first season one of my favorite pairs was Joey + Rory, a sweet down to earth couple who didn't take themselves too seriously. By the second season I missed all but one episode however loved the winning duo - Steel Magnolia. Not only were they named after one of my favorite movies but their voices (particularly the female vocalist, Meghan Linsey) were lovely. Here they are giving a live performance with nothing but a guitar and a set of drums.

Airing our dirty drawers.

Or more accurately, the worn out diapers. A couple of weeks ago I received a new shipment of prefolds in the mail. The last batch we purchased were now very well worn and with a new baby on the way I figured it was time for a new set. See, I bought my last batch of prefolds more than 4 years ago. They were used as cloth post partum pads after I had my second child. Their main function was as nighttime doublers (to increase absorption) and were used for two kids simultaneously while being washed in heavy duty cycles every other day. Then my third child came along and the prefolds had another stint in the post partum cloth department while continuing to be used as doublers for two children and again being washed every other day.




That's a lot of wear and tear people, but these things are amazing. Since prefolds are simple, multilayered flat diapers there's no elastic to give out, no waterproof layer to wear out, no velcro to stop sticking. It's all absorbent cotton that as long as it's still absorbing works well even when it's ugly. How ugly? Let's take a look. I'll ease you into the ugly slowly. Here are the new prefolds. These are indian prefolds and all sizes are the infant sizes.




Notice the smooth, even weave and the lovely puckering. If you've never ordered a prefold diaper before they arrive larger and smooth. Then you wash them on a couple of hot cycles to remove any sizing and waxes to end up with a shrunken, puckered up, quilted looking prefold that feels amazingly soft. Which is why I will unashamedly say they work amazing as post partum cloth pads. So soft that the day that men decide to wear plastic underwear is the day I might reconsider cloth pads. Even then I likely won't. But that's a rant for another day.




Here is a prefold from my used batch. This one is the "medium" worn example since it's still pretty much intact and just slightly worn in a few spots.




These prefolds have four layers on the outer thirds and then 8 layers down the center so even when one of the outer layers wears out they are perfectly fine and still absorbent.




Now here's the down and out prefold. The one that's a testament to how much wear you can squeeze out of a diaper.




Yes it is that ratty looking in real life. Luckily, since I just fold them in thirds and stick them in an all in one diaper all I care is that the prefold is still absorbent. So yes, these were still being used. Despite the many holes, worn out patches and lifted up fabric layers, they worked like a charm. Not bad for something that cost at the time like $1-$2.




Now I just need to find a last resting place for the used prefolds. Any ideas? If all else fails I might just slice them up and use them to augment the stuffing in the kids' beanbag.

Chicken and Dumplings.

I've got a question for you. When you hear chicken and dumplings do you think gravy/broth filled with vegetables and chicken then topped with billowy biscuit like dumplings? Or do you envision a hearty gravy filled with only pulled chicken and poached thickish dumplings resembling a short noodle? The mason dixon line travels between these two. The former - a total northern thing and possibly out west as well as people moved out in that direction. The latter? Now that's a southern thing pure and simple. Since my introduction to American cuisine was limited to what I saw on TV cooking shows in the 80s and 90s I'd only heard of the puffy northern dumplings. Then while dating Mr. Maricucu we hit a Cracker Barrel in South Florida to satisfy a craving and boy was I surprised to see a plate of what looked like creamed chicken with some very puffy noodles show up on our table.




Was the plate for me? Nope. Actually I might be committing heresy by admitting this but I'm not a fan of chicken and dumplings in any form. If I had my 'druthers I'd take my chicken and gravy encased in a flaky pot pie crust any day. But I love a guy who happens to adore chicken and dumplings and since I like tinkering in the kitchen to preserve our beloved family recipes I figured I could tackle this one. A little online sleuthing turned up a cracker barrel copy cat recipe that began with making some homemade broth which I bookmarked immediately.

I know what you're thinking, "groan, not a super involved recipe again." No, not at all. See I have this little cheater's ritual which makes the whole process oh so easy. Every couple of weeks I'll hit up Costco or the local supermarket and buy two rotisserie chickens. The Costco chickens are a little larger and better priced but in a pinch the grocery store by my house does just fine. I remove the chicken breasts clean off the bone and use them to make a wonderful composed salad of baby greens, boiled new potatoes, bell peppers, green beans and a simple vinaigrette. Other times I'll make a quick chicken salad loosely based on an old Ina Garten recipe minus the nuts.




Then right after I take off the breast meat I continue picking off the dark meat. I end up with two piles. One filled with clean chunks of moist dark meat and the other with everything else (carcass, skin, and juices from the bottom of the rotisserie containers). I typically throw those two separate piles into the freezer until I want to make some some chicken and dumplings.




If I just want to make broth (great for freezing in individual sized portions and pulling out for illness) then I just dump the "other" pile into a pot, cover with water and add a splash of apple cider vinegar. I let that simmer all day long, sometimes replenishing the liquid and strain, then freeze. Delicious, very low sodium, homemade bone broth. But you're here for the chicken and dumplings.


Southern Style Chicken and Dumplings
adapted from Cracker Barrel Copycat Recipe

note: I make my broth with the two rotisserie chicken carcasses but if you'd prefer to start from uncooked chicken then please visit the previous link for raw chicken and veggie quantities. Also, my recipe makes a good sized batch of chicken and dumplings. Feel free to halve the recipe for a smaller family.

Broth
2 rotisserie chicken carcasses picked of their meat
dark meat from above mentioned carcasses
1 splash (couple of tablespoons worth) of apple cider vinegar

2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon celery salt (or ground celery seed)
kosher salt to taste

Dumplings
4 cups all purpose flour
2 tablespoons baking powder
2 1/2 teaspoons of table salt
2 1/4 cups whole milk


Dump your frozen pile o'carcass into a large stockpot and cover with water. As a frame of reference this stockpot holds 8qts. Not a beautiful picture but one that holds the promise of flavor.




Bring the pot to a boil then reduce the heat to simmer. I usually start this in the morning sometime after breakfast and let it simmer a good 7-8 hours replenishing the liquid if necessary to keep it over the bones. This is certainly a wonderful time to use the crockpot too if you have one large enough. Just simmer covered in the crockpot on low and you won't have to worry about keeping an eye on the liquid. After simmering all day I end up with this beautiful golden colored broth.




Strain the liquid. I use a large fine mesh skimmer/spider that's about 7 inches across. It's much easier for me to scoop around with that than to balance a pot of hot stock over a large container. When you're done you'll have this spent pile of bones.




Behind door #2 you'll find this beautiful stock with a fine layer of fat (schmaltz anyone?). I don't remove the fat since I've never found it to be excessive but if you don't like it, go ahead and remove it.




This amount of bones/water usually produces 10-12 cups of stock. If you like a thinner gravy in your chicken and dumplings you'll use 12 cups (it's okay to top off with water if your broth is just a touch less than that). If you prefer a thicker gravy then use only 10-11 cups of stock. Put your stock back in the pot and set it aside.




Time to make the dumplings. In a large bowl mix the flour, baking powder and salt.




Add the milk and stir to combine. Let the dough rest for 10 minutes. It will look very wet at this point, don't sweat it.






While the dumpling dough is resting bring your broth to a simmer. Add the lemon juice, then the celery salt.






Also add the pepper and taste for salt, then adjust as necessary.



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Back to the dumpling dough. The dough has grown quite bit thanks to the baking powder.




Liberally dust your countertop (or other preferred dough rolling surface) then dump your sticky dough right on top. Dust more flour on top of the dough and knead it a couple of times gently to smooth it out.




Roll out the dough to a 1/2" thickness and then cut into rough 1"x2" rectangles. I don't break out a measuring tape for this people. Just guesstimate and then have at the dough with a pizza cutter. This is rustic, not perfection.




Now that your dumplings are ready and the broth is simmering it's time for a dip in the hot tub. Drop in the dumplings a handful at a time. Between each addition, give them a gentle stir with your spoon. Once the dumplings are coated in broth they won't stick together.






Keep adding the dumplings until they're all in the pot. They will puff up and float on the surface but that's normal.




Simmer the dumplings for 30 minutes, stirring every 5 minutes or so to keep them from sticking to the bottom. After simmering, the dumplings will no longer float and the stock will have thickened into a gravy.




Add the chicken and stir gently to warm through.




All that's left is to ladle it up into bowls and adopt a southern drawl.




How do you get kids to try something new? Tell them they can't have it and that it's not for them. There's no way they were going to take that for an answer after the fragrant simmering happening in our home.