Just Peachy

Just pulled this little beauty out of the oven, baked especially for Father’s Day/Kyle’s birthday tomorrow. (If I can’t keep the hungry sisters away, there may not be any left by lunchtime!) How to make homemade cobbler even better? Even ones baked the night before? Amy’s ice cream of course! Oh yes, we are still working on the graduation-party ice cream.
I confess to making this recipe with canned peaches, and it does work…. but really. It’s not so hard to peel a few now is it? You can do it!
Texas Peach Cobbler
10-12 ripe peaches
1/4 c. sugar
1/2 t. powdered ginger
1 t. cinnamon
1 t. vanilla
1 T. fresh lemon juice
Mix above ingredients in a bowl and set aside. It’s  a pretty juicy mixture but that’s what you want in a cobbler! Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 350. Get out a 9x13 casserole dish and melt into it:
1 stick butter
Make your batter out of these ingredients:
1 1/4 c. flour
1 c. sugar
1 c. milk
pinch salt
2 t. baking powder
Pour the batter over the melted butter. Don’t stir! This is what makes the crispy edges. Pour the peaches and juice over this. Bake for 45 minutes.
Happy Father’s Day everyone! May you be blessed with a hug, a phone call, or a precious memory of your dad.
-Renee

Truffle Salt & Possums

A possum is roaming my suburban neighborhood. Last night I traded recipes with my neighbor as a joke, then felt the need to redeem myself by posting what we actually ate for dinner.
Granny Clampett can have her country critters – this meal was a summertime winner!
Cedar Plank Salmon
We found the planks on sale at the Williams Sonoma Outlet Mall (now there’s a subject for another post!) in San Marcos. Recommended by my friend Suzanne, who isn’t called “Southern Inspiration” for nothing, we also grabbed the Potlatch Seasoning.
Method: Soak the plank for 2 hours in water. Season the salmon filet. Preheat the grill and place the wet board on there until it begins to smoke. Put the fish on the plank (skin side down), close the lid for 8 minutes, and that’s all folks! My friend Bet gets her cedar from a lumberyard and has them cut it to fit her grill. Brilliant (and cheaper!).
While the fish is cooking, wash and trim a bunch of asparagus. (I’m not using the word as slang – I literally mean one of those little rubber band wrapped bunches). Place in a nonstick skillet with 2 or 3 T. water. Cover and steam until bright green. Drain any remaining water and add some butter. Finish by topping with a sprinkle of truffle salt.
Ahhh….the truffle salt. What does it taste like? It’s earthy, mushroomy, dark, and deep. (I’m starting to feel a need to quote Robert Frost. Must refrain.)
I found it at HEB for around $11/bottle and it has lasted a long time. You don’t need much!

Poems: For Tax Time

I’m convinced that no matter what kind of day you’ve had, there is a poem that goes along with it. Some younger folks probably feel the same way about song lyrics (but since I rarely understand or even recognize those) I’ll stick with something more comfortable. Poetry. In honor of National Poetry Month, I’ll be sharing some favorites.
April 15th is just around the corner and there has been much crunching of numbers here at the MathMansion. Mr. M. has done more than his fair share, for which I’m grateful. Me and numbers….well…. I’d rather read a poem about them than solve an equation with them any day!

Numbers

I like the generosity of numbers.
The way, for example,
they are willing to count
anything or anyone:
two pickles, one door to the room,
eight dancers dressed as swans.
I like the domesticity of addition--
add two cups of milk and stir--
the sense of plenty: six plums
on the ground, three more
falling from the tree.
And multiplication's school
of fish times fish,
whose silver bodies breed
beneath the shadow
of a boat.
Even subtraction is never loss,
just addition somewhere else:
five sparrows take away two,
the two in someone else's
garden now.
There's an amplitude to long division,
as it opens Chinese take-out
box by paper box,
inside every folded cookie
a new fortune.
And I never fail to be surprised
by the gift of an odd remainder,
footloose at the end:
forty-seven divided by eleven equals four,
with three remaining.
Three boys beyond their mothers' call,
two Italians off to the sea,
one sock that isn't anywhere you look.
                        -Mary Cornish

The One Room of Possibility

Here at my writing teachers’ retreat, one never knows what the next assignment will be. We share teaching ideas with one another, we teach to one another, and we learn from one another. Last night we were given the assignment to write a sonnet. The title was “The One Room of Possibility.” That’s not a lot to go on, but what an interesting idea. The responses this morning were varied and vivid and I’m continually impressed by the talent of my fellow teachers.
Sonnets have a strict form, but there is freedom within that form. Sounds like life doesn’t it? Like any writing assignment, I started with invention (coming up with something to say), arrangement (putting my thoughts in order), and elocution (adjusting the rhyme and meter.) In case you’re curious, I’m happy to share my feeble efforts. I don’t think the subject matter will surprise you.

The One Room of Possibility

A pantry shelf of flour, white and wheat

Cold butter, eggs their treasures to uncrack;

Cream and milk and sugar, fine and sweet

Vanilla, cocoa -richest, darkest, black.

Those mentors teach and guide from pages worn

(I hear the voice of Julia chirping “shoulds”)

A recipe, a note, a clipping torn

My cookbooks overflow with unbaked goods

But spatulas and whisks transform the base

Convecting heat and oven’s fire to bake

As magic elevates raw matter’s place

The grocery list becomes a birthday cake.

What joy to see the hungry soul restored-

To taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

-Renee Mathis 2/25/11

Purple Pantry Puzzle

It’s 5:00, I had no idea what to fix for dinner, and Ijust came home from an impromptu trip to Whole Foods. (I know, I know…shopping without a list is dangerous, especially there!) What I thought was in the freezer…wasn’t, so I faced this assortment of ingredients:

Here we have a red onion, red pepper, lemon infused olive oil, jalapeno-cilantro pesto, shrimp, zucchini, and purple potatoes! That’s right, purple as in “this is a lovely match to my cardigan” purple. How did it all come together?

I sauteed the shrimp with the bell pepper, zucchini, and onion. At the end I added the cilantro pesto for a little kick. On the side we have the lovely purple potatoes, sprinkled with lemon olive oil, sea salt, and freshly ground black pepper. I added the cilantro because, well, it needed something green on top.
The verdict? The family, bless their adventurous souls, liked it! We all agreed that the potatoes wouldn’t have worked with the standard butter and milk treatment (Play-doh anyone?) but the snazzy lemon oil was just the right touch.
Who says grownups can’t play with their food?

Why You Don’t Want to Read This Blog

Dear Loyal Readers,
Hi Mom!
Yes, you’re right. My little corner of the blogosphere has been sorely neglected. November? I haven’t posted since November? 
Here’s the thing. Every time I think about posting something, I talk myself out of it because there are already others out there who do it better. Then when I go off in search of help for how to do it better myself, I just get discouraged. I’m not seeking to make a million, make a name for myself, or make life better for thousands on the planet. Really, I just like to have a place to journal and share. Ok, “journal” seems a bit pretentious. Remember xanga? (Does anyone still remember xanga?) I went hunting through my archives the other day in search of a recipe and had fun digging through accounts of our past few years. Weddings…graduations…surgeries….Jeopardy! 
In the interest of full disclosure….
*You won’t find me giving away a Kitchenaid mixer every Friday.
*I take terrible pictures. The only camera I have is on the back of my iPhone.
*I’m in favor of faith, family, and friends, but I don’t do politics.
*I’d love to visit with you in the comments, but I can’t promise I’ll follow your blog, link to your cause, or play the game of the week.
*I post sporadically (hello! November?) but without apology.
So that about sums it up. What you see is what you get: a 40-something mom & grandmom, teacher, cook, writer, daughter, and friend with a few things to say and a place to say them.
Love,
Renee

Airborne!

I love writing from pictures. If I need a little inspiration, it's as close as my nearest .jpg. What does this picture tell us?
-Cheerleading matters. I've spent the last 2 months watching a lot of volleyball. (Sports Moms Unite. You know what it's like.) Imagine what life would be like if there were someone cheering us on every time things got tough. Be that person.
-Coaching matters. What a great feeling to see those you love master a skill or achieve a goal. Who and where do you coach? I'll bet you know how to do something that someone else doesn't. Show them!
-Attitude matters. I see this picture and think "I could never do that." There are some things my 47 year old body just can. Not. Do.  Guess what? The Lord has a path marked out for this 16 year old and He has one for you and me as well. Follow Him and find it. Rejoice in the journey!

Hugs,
Renee