Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Apple Cranberry Brown Butter Pecan Crumble Pie

How do you like dem apples?
I recently split an order of apples with a friend who is a member of Bountiful Baskets farm share. My portion was 10 pounds of small, ripe, delicious Fuji apples. I needed to find a use for them, and had everything on hand to make a pie or a crumble. I asked my hubby which he was in the mood for, and he said both! So I came up with a hybrid pie crumble that was delicious. Unfortunately I'd need to make 4 more to use up the apples, so the rest will probably become applesauce for the KLAW.


1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup granulated sugar
tablespoons all-purpose flour
teaspoon vanilla
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
cups sliced peeled apples (I required 7 of my small ones)
1/3 cup dried cranberries
Some excellent compost being generated there


1 frozen deep dish pie crust


1/2 cup old-fashioned oats 
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
Dash nutmeg
1/4 cup cold butter
1/3 cup chopped pecans


Heat oven to 400°F. Place cookie sheet in oven to heat. 

In small saucepan, cook 1/4 cup butter over medium heat, stirring constantly, until melted and lightly browned. Cool completely, about 15 minutes.
My Quality Control Manager
While the butter is cooling, beat 1/2 cup granulated sugar and the egg with wire whisk until light and fluffy. Beat in 2 tablespoons flour and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Beat in cooled butter, 3/4 teaspoon cinnamon, and 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg. Fold apples and cranberries into the mixture. Pour filling into a frozen pie crust.

To make the topping, mix the dry ingredients except walnuts in a medium bowl. Add the butter in pats and cut in using a pastry blender or fork until crumbly; stir in the walnuts. **Add more butter if necessary. I did not have a pastry blender so I used a potato masher and my hands. Sprinkle topping over the filled pie.

Bake on cookie sheet 20 minutes. Place sheet of foil over pie (crust and topping) to prevent excessive browning. Bake 30 minutes longer or until filling is bubbly and topping is golden brown. 

Cool at least 30 minutes before serving with a scoop of vanilla ice cream!
Nom Nom Nom

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Valentine's Day Photo Prop - Cupid's Arrows

I am going to take pictures of my five month old son for Valentine's day, and was thinking of dressing him up like Cupid. I wanted to craft some little arrows for him to hold but needed them to be super simple. Here is my solution.

First I traced hearts on some red cardstock using a cookie cutter as a template - the smallest one from a set I found at the Target One Spot (dollar bins). Click through for the Cartwheel offer to save more at The One Spot! It is about 3" tall. The hearts will be the spear part of Cupid's arrow

 Next I cut rectangles about 1.5" x 3" and folded in half. I cut the top and bottom on a diagonal to make a diamond shape, and snipped out little strips and tore off the skinny pieces. This made the feathers (when unfolded it became a V shape)

I had on hand some red straws from a pack I found at Ikea. You can use any old drinking straw. Snip a 1" long slit in both ends of the straw and slide the heart in one end and the feather in the other

Voila! Cupid's arrows for your Valentine's Day photo shoot! I didn't add any glue or anything since the paper stayed wedged in there pretty well. But I suppose you could!
Photos from the Valentine's Day photo session to follow... 

Monday, February 3, 2014

Maternal Pulse - a poem to my child

Maternal Pulse

In the dim nursery, we rock.
Your hand,
which in your conscious hours
is forever wet from use
soothing  your newly swollen gums,
now is warm and dry,
and curled delicately around
my manicured finger.

There we rock
until your head lolls back
mouth still in an O,
the perfect inverse
of my form,
one cheek flushed pink
from having been pressed
against my breast.

Keeping cadence as we rock,
I hoist you upright
and hear your soft snore,
until I drew you to my ear
and pressed your cheek to mine.

Still we rock,
your head on my shoulder,
until it grows suddenly
your waking resistance
replaced by intrinsic trust.

That moment
will be my notion of you,
a Pompeian relic
when you grow to be the man
I only imagine,
as in this dim nursery, we rock.