The One Where I Pretend to be Sandra Lee And go Semi-Homemade

I’m not in the habit of posting recipes, but I have to share this one with you because it’s so easy and so great. It’s a little something I whipped up the other day, and I call it Holiday Tomato Bisque because that sounds way better than Some S**t I Threw Together At The Last Minute. This is one of those things that tastes homemade but is really just a mixture of store bought stuff sitting on the shelf. In my mind, that qualifies for a blog post and inclusion in the band boosters’ next fundraising cookbook.

This creation came about over the Labor Day weekend when we suddenly found ourselves with an invitation to an impromptu cookout. That in itself was exciting, since we rarely do anything holiday-ish on a summer holiday. We don’t spend the weekend in the Hamptons, dahling, and we don’t take the sailboat out for one last tour of the bay. We usually end up grilling a few burgers, taking a nap and watching six hours of the John Wayne movie marathon on TMC. Prepare to die, you sons of b*****es! That’s Hubby’s favorite John Wayne line. He likes to shout it at the TV if there are no children around. And I suddenly realized I’ve already used two profanities in this post. Hmm. What's up with that?

As we quickly got ready to go to the cookout, I remembered that I had two senior citizens to feed. As I didn’t have time to make much, and I didn’t figure they were game for tuna salad a second time that week, I decided to fall back on a good old favorite, soup and grilled cheese. However, I had only one can of soup, which is rare because I ALWAYS have canned soup. I started thinking about how I could stretch that can and tossed together the ingredients I’m about to share with you. When it was finished, I tasted it, hoping it would be edible. It was so darn tasty, I couldn’t believe it. The little bits of tomato and the texture make it taste like homemade bisque you chopped up and cooked for a couple of hours. It literally took about ten minutes, and that’s counting the 2.5 minutes I spent searching for my good saucepan. This recipe made enough for Mama J. and Papa T. with a smidge left over. You can double it and easily feed four or five people if you serve sandwiches with it. Try it the next time the weather’s cool, you’re stuck in the house watching True Grit and you can’t be bothered with feeding your peeps a real meal.

Ingredients: 1 small can condensed tomato soup, 1 regular can of Italian style diced tomatoes, tomato juice from concentrate and cream.

I’m not kidding, that’s it. And please ignore the fact that the cans in my picture look kind of squattie. I was in a hurry when I took the picture. I had PLANS for goodness sake!

Directions: Mix the soup and tomatoes (do not drain tomatoes) in a saucepan and add tomato juice until the mixture is the consistency you like. It should be a little on the thick side. Stir and heat this until it simmers. Add enough cream to take the edge off the acidity of the mixture and to give it a smooth taste. The soup will be an orange color. I added about a fourth of a cup, but who am I to dictate how much cream you should use. If you want to get jiggy with it, you can add more. Heat the soup a little longer until the mixture is good and hot, but not boiling and serve. If you have some croutons, you might toss those on top. I like it with Clubhouse Crackers, but then again, I'll eat anything with Clubhouse Crackers.

Now We're Cookin'

I love to cook. I really do. For more than thirty years, I've been stirring, mixing and experimenting in the kitchen. I get excited about things like Santoku knives, fresh herbs and colorful Kitchen Aid mixers. My cookbook collection is well over a hundred volumes, and I've been known to DVR Iron Chef America. I did pause this morning in church and wonder if I'm not watching too much Food TV when I disposed of my gum in a piece of paper torn from the bulletin and realized I was shaping it like a perfect piece of homemade ravioli.

I got an early start on cooking because Mama had a series of ear surgeries when I was about twelve that laid her up in bed for a while. Fast food was not common in those days, and we had to eat. Daddy had his hands full trying to work, take care of three kids and a sick wife, so we all had to chip in and help any way we could. I would sit beside Mama on the bed while she made out a grocery list and explained how to make stuff, then Daddy would drop me off at the grocery store with a $100 bill and the list. He ran other errands while I bought a week's worth of groceries. I felt really important. My family was very patient with my early attempts at supreme cuisine like runny spaghetti sauce and chili that made you sweat bullets. Then there was my cake decorating phase. I bought cake decorating tubes and made enough roses and swag borders to cover cakes for just about every relative within a thirty miles radius one year. I still have about 200 decorating tubes and if pressed into service could whip out a decent decorated cake. It's a disease, I'm tellin' ya. Teen Angel has caught it, too. I came home the other day, and she had whipped up a wonderful chocolate cake from scratch. I was so proud.

I've always been fond of making desserts, and one of the earliest that I learned to make was apple crisp. During Mama's recuperation, I found a recipe for apple crisp in her worn Betty Crocker cookbook and whipped up a batch or two...or three. Even though I've moved on to much more difficult desserts, I still have a soft spot in my heart for apple crisp (and chocolate no bake cookies). It's perfect on winter days when you're in the mood for comfort food. I made up a big batch to take to church tonight and thought I'd share the recipe with you for several reasons. First of all, it tastes good. Anything with three sticks of butter can't be bad, right? Also, this recipe is easy to make, and it's very kid friendly. It's a hands on recipe that's great for making some memories in the kitchen with your kids or grand kids. It's versatile, too. You can use any kind of canned pie filling for this recipe. It feeds a crowd. If you double this recipe and use one of those big silver disposable pans they sell at Sam's Club, you can feed thirty people with this dessert. Here we go.

INGREDIENTS

2 cans sweetened apple pie filling

2 1/4 cups flour

2 1/4 cups quick oats

2 1/4 cups packed brown sugar

3 sticks melted butter

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

3/4 teaspoon baking powder

Mix all of the dry ingredients in a bowl and crumble them until they're well mixed. It should look like this.

Next comes the melted butter. Is there anything more lovely? I think not. Look at all of that milky goodness. You can use margarine instead of real butter, and it will taste fine. Once you've made it with the real stuff though, you'll never go back.

Add the melted butter and mix. This is the part where Paula Deen would recommend that you throw away the spoon and mix with your hands. She would be right. I suggest taking off your big diamond rings first.

It will look like this when it's properly mixed. You will be tempted to stop right here and eat this with a spoon until it's gone. Whatever makes you happy. You'd miss out on the really good stuff, though....like the apples....and ice cream. Did I mention we're going to eat this with ice cream when it's done?

Take about two-thirds of the mixture and press it into the bottom of a 9 X 13 pan. Don't press it too firmly though.

Pour your pie filling on top of this. Mmmmm. If you want to get really crazy you can sprinkle some cinnamon on the apples.

Now, crumble the rest of the oat mixture onto the apples. The finished product will look like this.

Bake at 350 degrees for about an hour or until the top is golden brown.

Don't you love it when gooey stuff oozes over the sides? And if you make it in a glass dish, you can see the layers.

Now, this dessert is fine standing alone on a plate, but it's really nice when it's served warm with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream and if you're feeling really over the top, a little caramel sauce. There you go. Go forth and make apple crisp. You won't regret it. Your hips will, but your taste buds won't. And hang in there, Oreneta, one of these days we'll make fried potatoes.

Dressing for Success

No matter how old you are you still feel like the kid in the room when you're with older family members and they continue to perform certain roles within the family. Some jobs are left dangling in front of you with the admonition of "some day when you're old enough". Well, apparently, I'm finally old enough because mother called me last night to divide up the cooking for the Thanksgiving meal at her house, and I've been assigned...gulp...the dressing. "Would you mind", she asked? "Sure. Not a problem," I said smoothly, but the whole time my mind is screaming "Oh my God, I get to make the dressing!" Sniff. Sniff. Weep. Weep. I'd like to thank the Academy for this honor. I'd like to thank God and my family. My agent. You like me. You really, really like me.

Holy Cow. I can't believe it. This is one of those protected jobs usually performed by a mature female member of the clan, which in our family is my mother. Before her, it was my grandma. Grandma was the grand dame of dressing makers. She started two days early what seemed to my wee young mind, a complicated, top secret process. I remember watching her from my stool at the end of the kitchen table, amazed at the fact that she used chicken noodle soup in her recipe. When I asked her about her recipe she seemed a little evasive, giving me the old "a little bit of this and a little bit of that" dodge. I always vowed to worm that recipe out of her but she died before I was able to. That's one of my biggest regrets to date because her dressing was da bomb. No wait. Off the hook is the new phrase, right?

So, I'm feeling rather honored that I get to step into those big shoes (And they were big. Grandma had bunyons.) and carry the dressing torch. But here's the thing....I don't know what I'm doing. I've never made dressing in my life. I've watched others do it. I read yesterday how the Pioneer Woman makes hers, and I've read many a recipe, but I've never made it. And we all know how tricky dressing can be. It's easy to get it too sticky or too dry or too crusty or too bland or too sage-y. It's easy to screw it up. Sigh. The pressure is intense. I cannot fail. I have a standard to live up to. I have a torch to carry. A flame to ignite in my own Teen Angel, who is possibly the next generation of dressing makers. I'm hoping that somewhere up there Grandma is watching and between now and Thursday will whisper in my ear the trick to making a successful dressing. In the meantime, I'm going to savor this honor and the fact that I'm finally old enough to take on this important task. Or wait, does this just mean I'm getting old? Where's my manager?