Sep 29, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
Since October is nearly upon us with its crisp cool weather and fun holiday gatherings about to start, I thought I’d share my own cider recipe. It’s been a hit at family gatherings for years, and stores nicely in the fridge for up to a week … if it lasts that long!
I love the versatility of this great party drink. You can serve it hot or cold, by itself or mixed with a citrus soda or even light champagne. Even cider-haters like this beverage, right, Matt? ;)
INGREDIENTS:
1 orange, zested, sliced
1 gallon apple cider (non-sparkling)
6 cinnamon sticks, broken.
Zest the orange, set aside. Slice orange, cut slices into halves.
In slow cooker, combine cider, orange zest, cinnamon sticks, and orange slices.
Heat on low for two hours, stirring occasionally.
Serve according to taste.
Sep 24, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
Those of you who really know me, know I’m all about literature and Victorian era stories like Little Women and times when houses were more than homes, they were entities of their own, with their own personalities and characteristics.
When I moved into my house, I christened it Bedford Manor for a variety of reasons, but mostly because Bedford Falls was the epitome of family life in Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life”; that magical place where ordinary life is the best life there is.
My house was everything I prayed for: fenced, landscaped (sans grass), garage, indoor laundry room, quiet neighborhood, close to friends and family. It’s (almost) just like the house I grew up in; the floorplan is the same with two exceptions: 1. It’s reversed so my garage is on the right, my mom’s garage is on the left; and 2. I have a door from the garage directly into my dining/kitchen area.
I love that door. I can pull up into my garage, close it, and still have access to my house. It makes me feel safe in the dark. It keeps me dry in the rain. I love that door. I love the tiny six inch step down I have to take to get from house to car each day. I love stepping onto the concrete in my bare feet when I’m looking for something special in the overstock food cabinet. I just love that door.
I love my front yard. I haven’t enjoyed my backyard too much since it’s still full of ant hills and overgrown trees. The wind piles leafy debris on the porch. But soon I’ll have all that managed, and the back patio will be my screened-in retreat.
This summer belonged to the front yard. I potted herbs and ivy. Planned out a Spanish Patio area to enjoy a morning Bistro. Trimmed the trees. And trimmed the trees. And trimmed the trees.
Mulberries grow ridiculously fast. And they don’t really change color with the desert seasons like some other trees do. Some leaves turn yellow, but mostly they just dry up and in one good wind, drop. I have three big trees in my front yard. had. Had three big trees in my front yard.
Yesterday, my landscaper came and chopped the biggest one down. I thought I might be sad. Certainly at first I felt a twinge of guilt: I had prayed for trees and landscaping. And here it is, two years later to the date I found Bedford Manor, and I’m responsible for killing some of it’s beauty.
But even though the tree was big and full and powerful and beautiful… that wasn’t enough to keep it. Because it was also overgrown, high maintenance, and almost dangerous. I’ve trimmed it three times myself this summer, and it still continued to grow over the driveway. I likened it at times to driving through Disneyland’s Jungle Cruise with the long green branches beckoning my car into its cavelike vines. It blocked too much view, it cast too much shade and not enough sun.
Now with the tree gone, I can see the road better. The sun reaches my front alcove a little more, which gives me hope that my potted garden will fare just a little better. My living room certainly is much brighter. I’ll enjoy my alcove more and sweep it less.
I’m a creature of habit. Those who know me intimately, know I’m opposed to change. I don’t “go with the flow” (although I’m better at it now than I used to be). So to cut down the biggest tree on my property, it was a very serious mental undertaking.
And I couldn’t be happier.
It just goes to show, even the happiest, longest lasting roots can change and make way for something even better, healthier, more fulfilling. The tree is no longer there. But now I can wave good morning to my neighbors instead of hiding. The shade is no longer there. But now I can get some original Vitamin D more often than I used to. There are other trees for the birds to nest in, other shrubs to add greenery to my yard. And now, there’s an open canvas for me to plot and plant other growth.
Cutting down my biggest tree, I am finding, is giving way to some pretty big ideas. Ideas I wouldn’t have if I’d just kept things the way they were and resisted change.
So, you see? Change isn’t always bad. It isn’t always good, either. Change is just change. But it’s always there. It’s what you do with it that matters.
Sep 22, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
This is a great recipe that takes only three ingredients. How’s that for a budget! It’s perfect for autumn. Goes great by itself or served with a salad.
INGREDIENTS:
2 cans condensed Cream of Mushroom soup (undiluted)
6 boneless pork chops
1 large can (30 oz.) sauerkraut
In slow cooker, spread 1/2 can soup. Then layer 1/3 of saurkraut, two porkchops, 1/2 can of soup. Repeat layers three times. Add salt, pepper to taste.
Cook on low for 8 hours.
*You can add more layers if serving more than 4 – 6.
*You can drain and/or rinse the saurkraut, depending on how full or subtle your taste is.
Sep 16, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
My mom and I and Dot are all pretty close. Three generations of women living in close proximity (don’t forget the five female felines!). Mom lives alone, just down the street, but we’re at each other’s house often enough. We talk every day, often. Our houses even have the same floor plan, but reversed. (That explains why we zig when we think we should zag.)
It’s pretty hilarious when I call my mom and we both have the same topics in our heads. We both want to make mac-n-cheese on Saturday. We both watch the same news, listen to the same music (Charlie Rich, Jimmy Dean, and Sinatra… now that’s music!). We both order the same QVC kitchen product, at the same time. We both have the same ideas about home decor, although her theme is Country Spring and mine is Coffee House Autumn colors. Even some of our furniture is the same (she likes white, I prefer dark mocha colors). Not all of this is planned. We just like the same things. We just have the same views on life. We are distinctly different, and wonderfully in sync.
Now, I’m not saying we’re identical. She won’t go to Disneyland with us. I don’t read the papers like her. She doesn’t rock out to the Backstreet Boys and I’m not too successful at gardening. We don’t spend every single moment together. She kicks me and Dot out of her house when she’s tired, and I send her packing when it’s time to watch “Friends” with my daughter. We do separate and have our own lives. We just share them with each other. A lot.
My mom’s turned into my best friend. I wouldn’t be who I am without my Mom. She instilled my love of words. I can’t remember her not reading to us as children, or giving books as toys.
I remember once when I was about seven, she came home from the store and gave my brothers toys. Things they could play with, interact with. And I got a Golden Book, something about a puppy. I was so upset. You can’t play with a book. You can’t make it climb things like a stuffed animal. You can’t build with it like Legos. And so I cried.
Until Mom came over and opened the cover, and asked me to read the first page. Aloud. Without realizing it, I had been swept into a world of saving the puppy, or the puppy saving something else, I forget. What I do remember is the feeling of freedom. While my brothers were confined to the physical attributes of their toys, I had the whole world in my hand. I had an adorably soft little critter who looked at me with his tiny eyes. I had the power to help him on his page-turning journey. I had imagination. I went to sleep that night holding my book. I dreamt of the puppy and our adventures together. The next day, I took out my stuffed animals and reenacted the story.
Indeed, my Mom gave me much more than words on paper that day. She gave me life.
There is no greater thrill I have then my mom’s daily phone calls after she’s read my blog or whatever other writings I’ve sent her way, and to hear her say, “You did good today.” It’s those little backpats that make it worthwhile. Because while I write because I can’t not write; and I write because I was born to write; it’s not her approval I’m after. It’s because I love her and the way she raised me that I write, and try to write well. I’m proud of my mom. I love my mom.
And this is my way of returning the world to her. This is my way of saying, “Yes, I can be the person you raised me to be.” This is my way of letting her know she did good, too.
Thanks, Mom. I heart you.
Sep 15, 2011 |
by Molly Jo Realy @MollyJoRealy
By now you’ve probably sensed a theme about my recipes: I like ’em cheap, easy, and slow cooked.
Slow cookers are a beautiful invention. I’m particularly thrilled with my new “original slow cooker”, an authentic Crock-Pot. A Crock-Pot is different from other slow cookers, in that other slow cookers typically sit atop a hotplate that in and of itself can be used as a pancake griddle on Saturday mornings. A Crock-Pot encases the pot, usually a removable stoneware that acts as its own serving dish, albeit hot, but ultimately easy on the clean up. Once the stoneware has cooled when removed from the heating element, it can fit in the fridge. The next day you can warm up your leftovers by taking it straight from fridge to Crock-Pot and setting it to “warm”. Since it’s already cooked, there’s no need to turn it on “high” and risk cracking your dish (although I hear that’s hard to do, yet another reason to love the original Crock-Pot).
For a few months, I’ve been wanting to try my hand at making BBQ Pulled Pork. Lo and behold, my new Crock-Pot came with a basic recipe! Of course, being me, I first tried their recipe. Then I had to make it my own. And here it is.
BBQ Pulled Pork can be enjoyed on buns as a sloppy joe-type sandwich, on rice or pasta, or mixed in with veggies. It’s even a great topping for BBQ or Hawaiian pizza. My 3-lb. roast was enough for 12 buns plus some leftover meat to add to a rice dish. Now that’s a good deal!
INGREDIENTS:
3 – 4 lb. pork loin, trimmed of fat
1 bottle (18 – 24 oz.) BBQ sauce
1 bottle (12 oz.) beer [I prefer a dark lager] [Substitute 12 oz Coca-Cola for a sweeter tang]
2 medium onions, chopped
Place pork loin into Crock-Pot. Cover with onion then BBQ sauce then beer/cola.
Cover and cook on low for 9 hours. Remove pork and shred with forks. Put pork back into Crock-Pot and mix well with onion sauce. Serve as desired.
