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Showing posts from September, 2013

How Our Garden Grows (Bunny ed.)

Not good.

Baked Yogurt Cake Donuts

September is my birthday month, and I've always been partial to it.  The days of oppressive humidity are just about over, but the days of scraping ice off my van in the supermarket parking lot while three children kick melting snow off their boots onto the upholstery still feel like a long way off.  Pumpkin spice lattes aren't my thing, but I do look forward to tall boots, hooded sweatshirts, apples and apple cider, pumpkin baked goods, long simmering soups, walks through glorious foliage, and burning candles.  And cider donuts, which were a treat that went hand in hand with fall hayrides throughout my childhood, but which I rarely indulge in now.  I'm really looking forward to trying a cider donut recipe in my new donut pan, but since cider isn't readily available yet I had to break in the pan with something else.

Yogurt IS readily available--we make our own--and it gives these cake donuts their tender crumb and a slight tang that reminds me of a sour cream cruller.  …

Honey Baked Chicken: A Love Story

I have history with this dish.  It goes something like this.

Girl meets boy. Boy brings girl home to meet the family. Girl freaks out. Boy's mom makes honey baked chicken. Girl has food epiphany. Girl likes boy a LOT. Girl likes his family a lot too. Boy likes girl. They talk a LOT. Boy moves to college. Girl visits. Boy makes honey baked chicken for girl. Girl and boy are in love. Boy asks girl to marry him. Girl thinks she might die of happiness. They marry. Girl figures out how to make honey baked chicken. Babies come. Babies turn into kids. Girl makes honey baked chicken.

Obviously I've left out some details, but honey baked chicken is kind of a big deal around here.  When my now-husband first brought me home for dinner to meet his wonderful family, he warned me (knowing my rather limited palate) that dinner was "sort of Indian."  What he meant was, it has a teaspoon of curry in it.  But it was a necessary disclaimer because I still thought Hot Pockets were …

The End of Summer (& How Our Garden Grows)