Holiday Recipe Spectacular - Dessert - Apple Dumplings

Another one of my childhood faves!  This was probably my most requested dessert when I was growing up.  Love it!  Especially because you got your own individual dumpling, it was all yours!  This recipe goes way back to my great-grandmother in Kentucky.  My mom's mom would make them, then my mom and now I can make them on my very own-cute, right!  It's such an easy recipe, but what an impressive show it would make when you hand each of your guests their very own warm apple dumpling!  It'd look like it took hours to prepare-and just for them!  You're the best hostess ever!!

Mother and Mom's Apple Dumplings
•2 cups peeled, pared and sliced tart apples (or 1 16 oz. can apple slices)
•1 pkg. pie crust mix (for two pies)
•1 cup sugar
•1/2 t cloves
•1 t cinnamon
•1/2 t nutmeg
•1 cup milk
•1/4 c flour
•Cool Whip

Prepare pie crust sticks as directed. Roll out into 8 equal squares. Place two T apple slices on each and fold up each corner. Place in greased baking pan and dot with butter. Bake at 425 degrees for 30 minutes. (For fresh apples, bake at 350 for 45-50 minutes). While cooling, prepare cinnamon sauce. Mix sugar, spices and flour together and gradually stir in milk. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly until thickened. Spoon warm sauce over dumplings and top with Cool Whip or fresh whipped cream.

The Anti-Chicken Fingers Movement - Cinnamon Apple Pork Chops

Flavorful!  Autumny!  Comforting! 

I stumbled upon this recipe last week just one day before our grocery run.  I was actually going to try my parmesan-dijon chicken recipe with pork chops (recipe found in the book Betty Crocker's Cooking Basics: Learning to Cook with Confidence).  Luckily, the pork chops and apples recipe jumped out at me!  I had apples (it's fall, after all) and I had just bought brown sugar for an appetizer I made for a Halloween bash.  It was as easy and delightful as I could've hoped for.  On this rainy and chilly evening, we paired it with stuffing, green beans and mashed potatoes for that wholesome, all-American comfort food meal. 

Cinnamon Apple Pork Chops

2 medium apples (we used Gala)
3 T packed brown sugar
1/2 t ground cinnamon
4 pork chops
cooking spray

Directions

1. Heat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. Cut the apple into fourths, and remove the seeds.  Cut each fourth into 3 or 4 wedges. Place apple wedges in the casserole dish.  Sprinkle the brown sugar and cinnamon over the apples.
3. Cut and discard most of teh fast from the pork chops. Spray the skillet with cooking spray, and heat over medium heat 1 to 2 minutes.  Cook pork chops in hot skillet about 5 minutes, turning once, until light brown.
4. Place the pork chops in a single layer on the apple wedges. Cover with lid or aluminum foil and bake about 45 minutes or until pork is slightly pink when you cut into the center and apples are tender when pierced with a fork.

Buon appetito!

Going From Firm to Sweet in a Millisecond - The Emotional Switches in Motherhood

A state characterized by the coexistence of contradictory or incompatible elements; one sign being a rapidly changing mood- from happy to sad to angry for no apparent reason.  Schizophrenia.  If my sons were aware of medical terms-and doctors-this is no doubt what they’d diagnose me as.

At least that’s how I feel many times in our day.

Last night, for example. It’s bedtime.  We had woken up at 5:00 a.m. followed by zero naps.  I wore them out at the playground with a group of 10+ kiddos under the age of 5 for a solid hour at the very minimum. They ate a hearty meal of SpaghettiOs with extra meatballs at dinner; bath; books; brush; the usual. At 7:45 p.m., I kissed their precious foreheads and bid them a good night and sweet dreams.  I closed the door behind me and sat on the couch before realizing I hadn’t poured that glass of wine yet.  A few minutes went by.  Silence.  Ah!  I stood up to pour that satiny red into my glassy best friend.  Ultimate relaxation imminent in just minutes.

“Mommy, I’m thirsty.” I hear my oldest calling from behind his door.  At least, he wasn’t opening it (that means he is aware there are rules).

Thoughts dart in my mind.  Stand firm and say no.  He’ll get the idea and know you are not a pushover.  The other voice says, just give him a cup of water and maybe that’s all he really needs and that will be the end of it tonight.

I give him a cup of water.

“Good night, mommy.” He disappears back into his room like the good little almost-three-year-old that he is. 

Ten minutes later, following a potty break, a sip of water and a clean diaper for my youngest, and a tuck in for both; I find myself standing in between their beds.  “Mommy, sing one more song.” A voice in my head explains that the boys shall get no more songs otherwise I am a pushover and this will happen every night until they’re sixteen.  The other voice says to sing one more song just in hopes that this will be the last call of the night. 

In the firmest, most non-pushover voice I can muster, “Okay, I’ll sing one more song.  But THAT IS IT!  NO MORE GAMES!”

[Enter sweet tender mommy voice]

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy…”  Who in normal society actually does that?  There is rarely an instance that you will be talking so firm to someone and switch into sweet sing-songy mode so rapidly.  This is the schizophrenia I’m talking about.  I mean, can you imagine talking to your boss at work…
[Firmly] Leah, I’m really disappointed in your performance on the analytics report.  You’ve miscalculated the numbers and your writing is quite illegible. [Softly] But have I ever told you how nice your hair smells.  Every time you walk past me in the hallway I just think to myself I am so glad I hired you and that I really like you a lot.”

And this isn’t the only instance.  This happens when we’re having a great time playing and laughing and in his excitement, Luke jumps up and knocks his brother to the floor.  My friendly aura is jolted and I’m forced to work up a tough love lesson I’m not quite fond of.  Or when he climbs on my lap and tells me, “mommy, I love you.”  Delighted, I go in for a kiss and notice he’s chewing.  I ask, “What’s in your mouth?”  He spits out black rubber into my hand.  I quickly scan the room spying my lone flip flop in the corner.  A chunk savagely torn from it.  I’m too relaxed to turn work up the energy to be mad, but I don’t want him to ruin any more of my shoes.  Or when we had a fun outing at the park and we chase eachother to the car, giggling all the while, and then he sneakily jumps into the front of the car while I’m buckling in his brother and refuses to climb into his seat-thus making me chase him from side to side-resulting in an I’m-over-it “you better get in your seat or… (or what-think fast!) or you won’t get that treat when we get home.” What treat?  Now I need to get him a treat if he gets in his seat.  Why am I going to treat him for finally obeying me after a few minutes of craziness?  Ah, the word craziness.  Maybe this isn’t a coincidence. 

Honestly, I’d rather be the sweet and happy mommy 24/7.   But I’m savvy enough to know that doesn’t work out too well for the kiddos in the long run.  I guess for me, who has always been pretty agreeable and the last person to ever start a fight, it’s hard to be that assertive and firm person I know I need to be. 

Or maybe I just over think it.