Chocolate Chip Pomegranate Cookies

Over the years, I've developed the tendency to build a community every where I go. Perhaps it comes from my small-town, everyone-knows-your-name upbringing that I navigated for 18 years. Maybe I'm just co-dependent. Who knows. Either way, I've cultivated a sense of family in some of the most unlikely places.

At the gym, I've managed to befriend those that see me at my worst--tired, sweating and grunting my way through a strenuous workout. Or, even worse, watching me air punch my way through complicated choreography that I can never seem to get down, no matter how many times I do it. We've gone from just casually waving as our paths cross to running races together, having happy hours and even celebrating a wedding.

At volleyball, again, a time when I look beyond terrible, I've created a network of fun, supportive ladies. Outside of Queen of the Court, our paths would never cross--we are unlikely friends, but all manage to cheer on and support one another on Wednesday nights. Our mix has a little bit of everything, from spunky college students to our everyone's favorite sassy grandma, Jean.

At school, I've built an army of minions in my yearbook and newspaper staffs. You walk into my classroom at any given point during the day and there are dozens of kids who call Room 516 "home." It's standing room only at lunch and I have to herd students out the door at the end of the day to be able to go home. Who would have thought that a classroom was THE PLACE to hang out at school?

Beyond that, my coworkers have become family in leui of my actual family, which is over 1,000 miles away. They question my sanity. Test my baked goods. Laugh at my stories. Tease me endlessly. And, most importantly, care about and support me. In return, I bring in a weekly rotation of treats to keep their sweet tooths satisfied. 

A few weeks ago, my on campus mommy brought in a box of pomegranates that one of her neighbors had given her. I was thrilled with the possibilities and set out to find recipes to put the fruit to use. After hours of research (damn you, pinterest), I decided to modify a cookie recipe and see what happened. The result? Deliciousness.

Chocolate Chip Pomegranate Cookies

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup butter, room temperature
• 1/2 cup brown sugar, lightly packed
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1 egg
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 cup quick cooking oats
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1 cup chocolate chips (I used dark chocolate)
• 1 cup pomegranate arils (about 1 pomegranate)

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 375. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper or grease lightly and set aside.
2. Cream butter and sugars until smooth. Add egg and vanilla extract and mix well.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, oats, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Slowly add dry ingredients to butter mixture, mixing just until incorporated. Stir in chocolate chunks, then gently stir in pomegranate arils.
4. Drop dough by tablespoonfuls onto lined baking sheet about 2 inches apart. Bake for 12-13 minutes, until golden brown. Let cool on baking sheet for a couple minutes before removing to racks to cool completely.

Quinoa and Asperagus Chicken

It's official--Pinterest has taken over my life. I resisted for so long, convinced that I'd find myself pinning for hours and accomplishing nothing. While the former part of that statement is totally true, I've actually found some incredible recipe resources through Pinterest.

I rarely follow a recipe to a T, I'm always able to find solid inspiriation in the posts from other Pinners. It's always a great chance for me to try lots of different adaptations and find stuff that works. Plus, finding quick and easy recipes has been a godsend during this busy school year.

This recipe, for creamy quinoa, chicken and asperagus has become a weekly rotation on our dinner menu. It's easy, delicious AND you can make it ahead of time.

Quinoa and Asperagus Chicken

• 4-6 chicken breasts, depending on size
• 1 bunch of asperagus, trimmed
• 2 cups quinoa, cooked
• 1 can cream of mushroom soup
• 1/2 onion, diced
• 1 cup mushrooms, diced
• 1/4 milk
• salt and pepper
• 1/4 cup parmesan cheese

1. Spray a 9x13 baking dish with cooking spray. Spread the cooked quinoa on the bottom of the dish.

2. Make a layer of asperagus on top of the quinoa.

3. Wisk together soup, milk and vegetables. Pour of half of the mixture over the asperagus.

4. Salt and pepper the chicken breasts and place them on top of the asperagus.

5. Pour the rest of the soup mixture on top.

6. Sprinkle with cheese.

7. Bake at 375 for 30 minutes or until chicken is cooked through.

No Recipe Potato Salad

Pretty much every gathering I attend during the summer, I bring a heaping pile of potato salad. My friends come to expect this contribution and are always asking for the recipe... The problem is, I don't really have an exact recipe for the magic. I usually just wing it with whatever I have on hand and it comes out delicious every time.

This response, though, is not well received. I get an eye roll. I get a deep sigh. So, I've done my best to try and make a list of the staple ingredients that I use to make this magic happen. It's not exact. The measurements aren't really very precise... but it is so good each time. Feel free to tweak it and adapt it however you see fit!

No Recipe Potato Salad

2 lbs. of rainbow potatoes, cut into half inch chunks
3 tablespoons minced garlic
1 onion, diced
1 can sliced black olives, drained
1/2 cup artichoke hearts, chopped
1 cup sweet corn (off the cob)
1 bunch rainbow carrots, diced
1 can garbanzo beans
1 teaspoon garlic salt
1/c cup white wine
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
2 tablespoons dijon style mustard
1 teaspoon rosemary
1 teaspoon oregano

1. Boil the potatoes and carrots until they are tender, but not mushy. Drain and set aside.

2. Wisk together the wine, vinegar, mustard and spices.

3. Stir together remaining ingredients. Mix with potatoes and carrots.

4. Toss the wine mixture in with the vegetables.

5. Refridgerate for at least 30 minutes before serving.

Birthday Cake Cinnamon Rolls

To me, birthdays are always going to be synonymous with Funfetti Cake. Oddly enough, I can't remember a single birthday where I actually had a Funfetti Cake... But for some reason, that is the flavor profile that prickles on my taste buds when I think, "Birthday."

I love Funfetti so much that, despite my prowess for baking and my love for all things cupcake, I will insist that my wedding cake be made of Funfetti. And none of this hipster, "I came up with my own deconstructed version of Funfetti," stuff. I want: From the box. Pillsbury. Funfetti. Cake. Seriously--this is a non-negotiable.

The flavor of Funfetti has been something that is popping up all over... Of course, they just call it Birthday Cake, or Sprinkle Remix or whatever, but it's the same flavors. The OG Funfetti is always the best, but these other attempts sometimes come close to hitting the mark.

Recently, we were preparing to entertain a group of friends for the morning US game during the World Cup. The menu? Easy stuff--chips, salsa, fruit, crackers... and, you know, cinnamon rolls. When the request was made for cinnamon rolls at 8 PM the night before, I was tempted to just say no. But I went to pinterest and found a solution. A no-yeast, no mix, no fuss recipe for (drumroll please) BIRTHDAY CAKE CINNAMON ROLLS.

Funfetti Cinnamon Rolls

adapted from a hot mess of recipes on Pinterest.com

Ingredients
For the Rolls:

• 1 tube of crescent rolls
• 1 box Funfetti Cake mix
• 3 T butter
• 1 T brown sugar
• Candy sprinkles

1. Dust your workspace and rolling pin with cake mix.
2. Open your crescent rolls carefully and roll them out onto your workspace. Pinch together the seems from the crescent shapes on the rolls. Flip over your sheet of dough and pinch together the seams on the other side.
3. Melt the butter and mix it with 2 T of cake mix to form a runny paste.
4. Using a pastry brush, evenly spread the cake paste all over the sheet of dough.
5. Sprinkle the brown sugar over the top of the paste.
6. Toss sprinkles on top of your brown sugar layer.
7. Carefully and tightly roll your sheet of dough up, leaving it to rest on the seam.
8. Wrap in wax paper and refrigerate for at least 20 minutes.
9. Remove your dough from the fridge and slice your cinnamon rolls into 2" spirals.
10. Place the spirals into a greased muffin tin, or crowd them together in a baking dish.
11. Drizzle any remaining paste over the tops of the rolls and add more sprinkles.
12. Place in a 350 degree oven and bake for 15 minutes.

For the Icing:

• 1/2 cup butter
• 2 cups sifted Funfetti cake mix
• Powdered sugar, as needed
• 2 T whipping cream
• Candy sprinkles

1. Whip the butter until it is light and fluffy.
2. Slowly add the cake mix.
3. Add in the whipping cream.
4. Add the powdered sugar, as needed, to form a creamy consistency.
5. Stir in the candy sprinkles.
6. Dollop the icing on top of your warm cinnamon rolls.
7. Toss some more sprinkles on top.
8. Enjoy!

Tuna Noodle Casserole

It's not uncommon that people ask me where I learned to cook and bake. And when I try to think back, to my earliest memories in the kitchen, there isn't a distinct moment that stands out as the, "oh, I've got this..." point in time.

When I was a kid, I always LIKED to bake... mostly because I liked to eat. I remember getting a cookie cook book and a stand mixer for Christmas one year. It was a Mrs. Field's cookie book, filled with a variety of recipes for drop cookies, bars and fancy treats. I was eager to try them all, but it wasn't about the process of learning to bake--I just wanted to eat cookies.

In terms of cooking, I always watched my dad in the kitchen. He never followed recipes. He never really seemed like he had a plan. He just threw things together and they were good--most of the time. The left over Chinese food omelet was not good. I remember that. Perhaps it was because most of his meals consisted of a big slab of meat that there wasn't much to them. But I learned to trust my instincts and try things from watching him in the kitchen.

We have a top secret recipe for Chex mix that we make every year at Christmas. While the ingredients are scrawled on a faded notecard, they are more of a guide than an actual recipe for success. My dad maintains that you know the sauce is done when you take a big whiff and you choke on the aroma.

I also have vague memories of baking with both my grandma's. I remember being fascinated by my Grandma Doris's chocolate chip cookie recipe--which she had memorized. As a kid, this always shocked me. Her cookies were unlike any others, too. They were chunky and lumpy and full of chocolate chips and nuts. And they were delicious. They weren't the cookies I would have picked out myself, but I had no problem devouring them.

I have even earlier memories of sitting at the kitchen counter (usually with a coloring book or dolls) and watching my Grandma Dorothy scoot around the kitchen. I don't remember specific things she used to make, but I remember watching her confidence and being impressed that she seemed to know exactly what she was doing, even without a recipe or a box to follow.

One of the first things I remember cooking on my own was Tuna Helper. I remember carefully following the directions on the box, standing on a rickety watermelon painted stool in our avocado green kitchen. I remember carefully plunking each of the ingredients into a pan that was way too big and stirring everything together and crossing my fingers it was edible. But let's be real--I was a fat kid and very little in my world was actually INedible. But Tuna/Hamburger/Chicken Helper became my specialty. I was a pro at dinner from a box.

As I've grown up, I've pooled these experiences and let them shape my kitchen practices. Sure, I use recipes. And yes, I taste things along the way and don't necessarily believe that choking on aromas is a good barometer for flavor. I've gotten to the point where I know a flavor I want to experience and I can gauge the ingredients I need to make that happen.

So, to recreate my first foray into the kitchen, I have concocted my own version of Tuna Helper. It's like a grown up, healthier and tastier version, made from things you probably have in your kitchen anyway.

Tuna Noodle Casserole

Ingredients

• 1 can tuna, in water, drained
• 8 oz. elbow pasta, cooked
• 1 can cream of chicken soup
• 1 can cream of mushroom soup
• 1/4 cup milk
• 1/4 diced onions
• 1 T minced garlic
• 1/2 cup diced carrots
• 1 cup diced potatoes
• 1/4 cup green beans
• 1/2 cup sliced mushrooms
• 1/2 cup green peas
• 1 T italian seasoning
• 2 teaspoons garlic salt
• 1/2 shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
• 10-15 Ritz crackers, crushed

1. Cook the pasta until al dente, set aside.
2. Preheat the oven to 350. Spray a round casserole dish with non-stick cooking spray.
3. In a large bowl, mix together the tuna, soups, milk and spices.
4. In a large pan, cook the onions, garlic, mushrooms and carrots until softened (but not mushy).
5. Add the cooked vegetables and remaining ingredients and 1/4 cup cheese to the soup mixture.
6. Stir the pasta into the mixture.
7. Transfer to the baking dish.
8. Sprinkle the top with the crushed crackers. Sprinkle the remaining cheese on top.
9. Bake in the oven for 25 minutes, covered with foil.
10. Remove the foil and cook for 10 more minutes.

Turkey Meatballs (And a winery adventure)

Another installment in the "Mo's Kitchen Escapades" lead me to crafting my own meatball recipe. After a day of wine tasting in the Temecula Valley, I needed something simple and easy to tackle for dinner. And as I mentioned before, I am also trying to systematically stock the freezer with easy to reheat meals.

Our adventures in wine tasting were incredibly successful. We visited three different wineries, definitely peaking at our second stop, which also included lunch. Lunch, though, if you could call it that, was exactly the reason why I needed something for dinner that would not wrek havoc on my very confused tummy.

The winery that we grabbed lunch at offered an amazing concoction--a sourdough breadbowl filled with melted brie. It may not sound that amazing, but let me tell you--this concoction was incredible. The amount of wine we had consumed may have also contributed to my awe, but I don't think my tastebuds were lying. They were rejoicing.

When we first walked into the winery, we walked by baskets that were brimming with fresh, hot and steaming loaves of sourdough. The three of us looked at each other, reached out and touched the warm bundles and instantly agreed that that bread needed to be a part of our visit. Generous pours of fruit-flavored sparkling wines (think: pineapple, raspberry, peach, etc.) and five tastes apiece that turned in to more like 10, we decided it was time to explore our sourdough future.

For $16, we received what I have concluded was bread and cheese nirvana. The sourdough was warm and the crust was crispy and perfect. Peeling back the top layer of bread revealed a buttered garlic bread layer, which thinly veiled the gooey cheese perfection below. The three of us had no problem putting away a bread bowl that was roughly the size of a soccer ball. And we were not ashamed.

We followed this winery stop with an impulse detour into a winery that boasted chocolate wines. We were intrigued when we had initially passed this winery on our way to our other stops. So, as we were headed home, we decided it was necessary to explore this chocolate option.

And necessary doesn't always mean good. We tried them. And they were chocolate. We weren't entirely sure they were "wines," but we did have a good time creating our own tasting notes. From spiked chocolate milk (or Bailey's), to stale Dollar Store chocolate, to Cherry Dimetapp and Boone's Farm and finally Chocolate Mouthwash, the samples were... eclectic? Needless to say, these flavors, on top of the bubbly, real wines and pounds of cheese and bread we had consumed, did not sit well. Turmoil was definitely taking hold in our tummies.

After some serious napping and several gallons of water, I emerged from my chocolate-cheese-carb coma and began fumbling around the kitchen to try and scrape together something for dinner that would not send my already unhappy stomach into further sickening spirals.

The fridge boasted onions, eggs, milk and ground turkey. The pantry had ample spices. It was an easy choice---meatballs were easy to make and the flavors were mild enough that my tummy ache would subside. Plus, I could easily make a large batch and put together some little pasta dishes for the freezer. Added bonus: I could take another power nap while the meatballs baked.

Turkey Meatballs

Ingredients

• 1 lb ground turkey (lean)
• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup bread crumbs (I used Italian style)
• 1 T garlic salt
• 1 teaspoon onion powder
• 1 teaspoon horseradish
• 1 T red pepper flakes
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1/4 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
• 1/4 cup diced onion
• 1 T minced garlic
• 2 teaspoons Italian seasoning
• 1 T Worcestershire sauce

1. Preheat the oven to 400.
2. Spray a baking sheet with non stick spray.
3. In a large mixing bowl, mix all of the ingredients together. If the mixture will not hold it's shape, add more breadcrumbs.
4. Shape the mixture into golf-ball sized mounds and place them on the baking sheet.
5. Bake in the oven for 25-30 minutes.
6. Toss your meatballs on top of your favorite pasta and sauce!

Kitchen Pantry Enchiladas

Every where I go, I inevitably make a home for myself. Growing up in a small town gave me a need to connect with my surroundings and find friendly faces in any crowd. While I found this smothering when I was in high school, my move to San Diego for college suddenly left me craving the familiarity of my tiny hick town.

So, naturally, I became a part of the Residential Education program (working in the "dorms," for those of you who don't speak ResEd). I started out as a Desk Assistant and eventually applied to be a Resident Adviser... Before I knew it, I had recreated my small community, more than 1,000 miles away from home. Again I had the friendly faces in the crowd, the constantly available resources and the support system that I didn't know I would miss so much.

When I finished college, I was at a loss. No longer was I living in the residence halls, surrounded by other students who relied on me and needed my assistance. I hadn't anticipated that graduation would leave me feeling lonely and abandoned (again) and I quickly resorted to my old ways to try and recreate my community. I became a property manager for graduate student housing, keeping my connection to SDSU alive and working adjacent to all my friends in the Residential Education office. I stayed active in the halls, working as an assistant to Hall Coordinators and I was never far from my old ResEd friends. Additionally, starting my credential program (along with another ResEd graduate and vet) exposed me to a whole new community to connect with. While I didn't form as many bonds in my teaching credential program as I had during my days as an RA, I became fast friends with a small group of fellow teacher candidates in my cohort. I also found a family of my own within the school communities I started working in.

I learned quickly during my time student teaching that the connections you create with your colleagues can have a huge impact on the quality of your teaching experience. Sure, the kids are a part of the equation, too, but having other teachers to vent to, laugh with, talk smack about the students with, etc. is an important outlet as well. I was very lucky to be in two different schools that had create cooperative working environments among the staff. The Matador Pride program at Mount Miguel demonstrated an entertaining, good cop/bad cop, tough love approach to team teaching. My cooperating teacher team taught at-risk students in English and Social Science. When I was at La Presa Middle School, the grade level teams that the school modeled showed me how great of a resource other teachers could be, outside of the classroom. I loved the banter between my cooperating teacher and her peers during "Lunch Bunch," and I had so much fun being a part of the ladies circle that was actually our official "prep" period--even thought it was often a group of four or five english teachers gabbing while grading.

When I completed my student teaching, finding a school with an outstanding faculty community wasn't exactly at the top of my list. At the time, I just wanted a job. Any job. And what would I know about camaraderie among the staff based on a job posting or interview?

But it didn't take me long after being hired at Orange Glen to begin to build my own family. First and foremost, I found myself an on-campus mommy. My department chair, and coincidentally one of the people on my hiring panel, took me under her wing early on and made sure that I felt supported and had resources whenever I needed them. From day one, she's been on of the people that I know has my back, believes in me and is proud of what I have been able to accomplish at OG. As such, we've become more than just work friends.

Sitting and typing this now, I am snuggled up between her two lab puppies, while she treks across the world on a European adventure. I'll be calling Rainbow home for the next several days, as I house sit and dog sit while my on-campus mommy gets to have a much-needed vacation. And while I'm here, I'm making sure my biggest supporter is taken care of. My plan for the next four days? Prep meals that are easy to freeze and reheat and leave a freezer full of delicious dinners when I go!

The first on the list are "Throw in whatever I find in the pantry" enchiladas---and they were a hit! They are exactly what they sound like. I opened the fridge, saw some tortillas, an avocado and cheese. I stuck my head in the pantry and spied some enchilada sauce and chiles and black beans and I instantly knew what was on the menu. I'd venture a guess that the items I included are found in MOST pantries... So, you don't think you know what to make for dinner? Think again.

Kitchen Pantry Enchiladas

Inspired by  Mo's Kitchen Pantry

Ingredients

• 2 chicken breasts, cooked and shredded
• 6-8 corn tortillas
• 1 T taco seasoning
• 1 avocado, diced
• 1 can black beans
• 1 can diced tomatoes
• 1 can green chiles
• 1 can corn
• 1 can sliced black olives
• 1 can green enchilada sauce
• 1/2 cup onion, diced
• 2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

1. Cook the chicken, seasoning with the taco seasoning (or a mixture of cumin, chili powder and garlic salt). Once it cools, shred the chicken into small pieces.
2. Spray an 8x8 baking dish with non stick cooking spray.
3. Pour about 1/3 of the can of enchilada sauce into a shallow bowl.
4. Drain all of the canned ingredients (except the enchilada sauce).
5. Transfer the drained ingredients into a bowl. Add the avocado and onion.
6. Take one tortilla, coat both sides with enchilada sauce (by dipping in the bowl).
7. Spoon about two tablespoons of the mixture down the center of the tortilla. Add about a table spoon of chicken. Top with cheese.
8. Roll the tortilla tightly and place it seam side down in the baking dish.
9. Repeat steps 6-8 until all the tortillas are filled and the dish is tightly packed.
10. Pour the remainder of the enchilada sauce over the top of the enchiladas.
11. Sprinkle any left over ingredients over the top of the enchiladas.
12. Top with cheese.
13. Cover with foil.
14. Bake at 375 for 45 minutes, removing the foil with 15 minutes remaining.
15. Enjoy!

Spinach & Artichoke Chicken

It's been way too long since my last post. There are many reasons why my postings came to a halt, but there is no need to waste the time or energy explaining them now. The short version is that life happened and I had to prioritize my time commitments in order to survive. Bad news for a blogging hobby that, while fun, isn't necessary for survival or sanity.

The good news, though, is that I am back. And it's summer. And I've got daylight and energy to burn.

So let's get right to it, shall we?

There are certain things that I am literally obsessed with. One of those things is artichoke hearts. I remember, as a kid, sitting at the counter in our kitchen, while my dad made artichokes in the pressure cooker. He'd scoop the veggies out (are the vegetables? Flowers? I don't really know.) and place them in front of my sister and me, with a bowl of melted butter and a bowl of mayo. And we would go to town, scraping our teeth along the leathery leaves and pulling the meat off of the fronds into our mouths. I'm not sure we even came up for air before we made it to the hearts, which we would wait for our dad to cut out of the base for us, so we could eat them with our fingers, again, dunking them in butter and mayo. I am sure that you are --sooooo-- shocked to hear that I had a weight problem growing up, right? (Somehow, though, my sister has always been svelte and petite... Clearly, I got the short end of the stick when it came to the metabolism genes.)

These days, you won't find me dousing anything in butter and the thought of mayo makes my skin crawl and the back of my throat itch. My eating habits have definitely changed (for the better) over the last several years and I have learned how to incorporate things I have always loved in much, much healthier ways.

If you're a fan of spinach-artichoke dip, then you absolutely MUST try this recipe. The flavors are spot on, rich and delicious, but the recipe significantly reduces all of the calories by leaving out fatty ingredients like cream cheese and mayo. I made this for dinner the other night and had to seriously restrain myself from having a second helping--I wasn't hungry anymore, but it was THAT GOOD.

Skinny Spinach & Artichoke Chicken

recipe adapted from EmilyBites.com

A lightened up version of something everyone loves!

Ingredients

• 4 chicken breasts
• Salt & pepper to taste
• 1/4 cup low fat cottage cheese
• 1/4 cup Greek yogurt (plain)
• 2 T minced garlic
• 1/4 chopped onion
• 1/2 cup artichoke hearts, chopped
• 5 oz fresh spinach, chopped
• 1/4 cup feta cheese
• 1/4 cup mozzarella cheese

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
2. Spray your baking dish with non-stick cooking spray.
3. Salt and pepper both sides of the chicken breasts and place them in the baking dish (it's fine if they overlap some).
4. Place the breasts in the oven and bake them for 15 minutes while you prepare the other ingredients.
5. In a large bowl, mix together all the other ingredients, except for the mozzarella cheese.
6. After 15 minutes, remove the chicken breasts from the oven. Drain any liquid that may have accumulated while baking.
7. Top the breasts with the spinach and artichoke mixture. Spread the topping evenly over the dish.
8. Sprinkle the mozzarella across the top of the dish.
9. Bake for an additional 25 minutes.

Based on the original recipe (which I have eliminated cream cheese and mayo from), this was roughly 250 calories per breast serving.

Pumpkin Pie Cobbler

My Aunt Ginny has always been my favorite. She's my mom's older sister, and maybe that's why I always felt a connection with her. She knows what it's like to be the oldest kid and deal with all that comes along with that. Plus, she was smart. She was first a high school math teacher, then a community college professor. And I always thought she was a genius. She understood math. She was witty. And she was really good at putting my mom in her place.

When I was a kid, I was chubby and loud. I was sassy and grubby. I didn't have any interest in being the cute, quiet, sweet little girl that my sister was--she had the market cornered on those traits anyway. I was smart. I was opinionated. I was a pain in the ass, and I knew it. I made no apologies and embraced what I had to work with.

My Aunt Ginny showed me it was ok--even cool--to be smart. She embraced her intelligence and I looked up to her as a strong, capable, smart and funny role model. My mom's emphasis and attention always focused on me being nice, and sweet, and girly and cute. I wasn't any of those things. Maybe it was because my aunt only saw me once or twice a year, or maybe she really understood that I had no interest in being the things my mom thought a little girl should be. Whatever it was, Thanksgiving at Aunt Ginny's house was always something that I looked forward to.

As I've gotten older, our relationship has changed, but not drastically. I still look up to her, admire her. She's still smart and funny and capable and someone that I aspire to be like. I never knew I was going to be a teacher when I was younger, but now it's another similarity that I share with my favorite aunt. I've also grown to, even more than before, appreciate how comfortable my aunt is with who she is.

Perhaps it's a shout out to her love of math, or maybe it's the quest for perfection, but my Aunt Ginny is a pie expert. Every year at Thanksgiving became increasingly more about the different pies she'd made--with the fruits from her trees--rather than the other elements of the meal. And, as a fat kid, of course, I loved this! We used to bring pies on our trek from southern Oregon to the Bay Area, but stopped because Marie Calender couldn't compete with what my Aunt churned out each year.

A love of baking, and creating things that other people enjoy, and constantly trying to improve the "perfect" recipe is another thing that my aunt and I have in common. Maybe it's just an undying drive for perfection, or getting as close to it as we can, that keeps pushing us. More likely, though, I think it is the simply joy of watching others devour something you've created and seeing how happy it makes them.

I've never dreamed of trying to compete with my aunt's pies at Thanksgiving, but this recipe is tempting me to throw down the gauntlet. It's not a pie, and it's not trying to be. But it has all the flavors pumpkin pie, but without trying so hard. It's a little sloppy. Usually kind of lopsided and lumpy. It's less than perfect looking, but the flavor, what counts, is spot on. I first made this for my colleagues a few weeks ago, and it was gone in a day. People have been asking for the recipe ever since.

Pumpkin Pie Cobbler

Adapted from Fast, Easy and Simple: Cooking for Less

For the crust:

• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 4 teaspoons baking powder*
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
• 1/2 teaspoon cardamom (or nutmeg)
• 1 cup almond or coconut milk (you can use regular milk, too)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon almond extract

For the filling:

• 2 large eggs
• 1 cup evaporated milk
• 2 cans (15 ounces each) 100% pure pumpkin (also called solid-packed pumpkin) or 3 cups cooked mashed pumpkin*
• 1 cup sugar
• 1/2 cup light brown sugar, lightly packed 
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon salt

1) Turn on oven to 350 degrees F. Place butter in a 13 X 9-inch baking pan, and place in preheating oven. When butter has melted, about 3 minutes, carefully remove pan from oven, and set aside. Allow oven to continue to preheat.

2) In a medium bowl, mix together remaining crust ingredients, and pour them over melted butter. Do not stir. Set aside.

3) In a large bowl, lightly beat eggs. Add milk and pumpkin, and stir to blend. Stir in remaining filling ingredients, and stir to mix well.

4) Spoon or slowly pour filling evenly over crust batter in pan. (The crust ingredients will almost be completely covered, this is fine.) Do not stir.

5) Bake cobbler, uncovered, for 45 to 50 minutes, or until crust has risen over the sides of filling and is golden brown and bubbly. (The crust will not cover cobbler completely, but this is fine.) Remove pan from oven, and cool for 10 to 15 minutes.Top with cool whip or vanilla bean ice cream.

White Sangria

Other than the glasses of "grape juice" my mom used to give me when I stayed home sick as a kid, I have never really had a palate for wine. But you throw some fruit in my glass, let me pretend it's a healthy fruit cocktail, and I'm sold. 

It probably also helps that I've learned what kinds of wines I do and do not like. I've always had a problem with headaches and migraines, and I've learned that, like many other people, red wine triggers those for me. I've found that I'm a much bigger fan of white wines and embraced my love for light, sweet and fruity flavors. I drink like a girl, bottom line.

In planning for a marathon cooking weekend, I knew that providing some beverages would be key to keep productivity in the kitchen in full swing. I had five girlfriends over and week cooked up a storm--for six hours. We made freezer foods that we could store and save or eat in the next few days. We made pesto. We made pot pies. We made stuff shells. And we drank. Delicious white sangria.

White Sangria

Ingredients

• 3 tablespoons sugar
• 3 shots apple liquor
• 1 lime, sliced
• 1 lemon, sliced
• 2 ripe peaches, cut into wedges
• 3 ripe green apples seeded and cut into wedges
• 1 bottle white dry white wine
• 1 pint raspberries
• Sparkling soda water, for topping off glasses 

Directions

Combine sugar, Calvados, lime, lemon, peaches and apples in a large pitcher. Cover with 1 bottle of wine and chill sangria several hours. To serve, spoon fruits into glasses, adding a few fresh raspberries in each glass, pour wine over top of the fruit. Top glasses of sangria off with a splash of soda water and serve.

Everyone Loves Brussels Sprouts

I don't know why brussels sprouts have such a bad rap. They are like the iconic food that every kid grows up hating, and every adult has scarring memories of being forced to eat. What gives? Brussels sprouts are not only delicious, but they are freaking adorable. They are like little miniature heads of lettuce... And let's be real, pretty much anything in "mini" form is stinkin' cute.

I'm a firm believer that if you hate brussels sprouts, you've just never had them prepared for you in the right way. Because I imagine that gnawing on a little rock of lettuce and trying to choke down gummy bites of a green nemesis would be pretty terrible. But caramelized brussels sprouts? With delicious seasonings? Shredded into pretty ribbons? How could that not be delicious? Have faith.

It's delicious. And it's easy. This has become a staple recipe for me, when I grab a bag of brussels sprouts at the store without a plan. This works every time.

Caramelized Brussels Sprouts

Ingredients

• 12-14 large brussels sprouts
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• pinch sea salt
• 2 tbsp brown sugar
• 1/4 cup roughly chopped pecans or walnuts, toasted

Procedure
1. Slice each brussels sprout very thin until you have a mound of feathery brussels sprout ribbons. 

2. Heat the olive oil over medium high in a large skillet and saute the garlic for 30 seconds. 

3. Add the brussels sprouts and continue sauteing for another 4-5 minutes, until bright green and tender. 

4. Add the sea salt and brown sugar and toss together. 

5. Finish by adding the toasted nuts.

Butternut Squash Macaroni & Cheese

There is something about an afternoon spent in the kitchen that relaxes me like nothing else. That feeling of, like, almost serenity, doesn't compare to the high I get from running, the relaxation from a good massage or even the euphoria from the perfect bite of cupcake. Whirling around my kitchen like a spinning top, splattering surfaces with remnants of whatever is on my spatula, stuffing spoonfuls into my boyfriend's mouth for "tastes" (which is just code for validation), puts me at ease. Sure, I make a huge mess, I wear myself out and I end up with a sink full of dishes... But I also feel accomplished. Satisfied. Inspired. And full.

One of the things I love to do is simply open my fridge and my cupboards and see what speaks to me. Lately, my garden has been driving my kitchen activities. I have a butternut squash plant that has been going nuts, so all things squash have been coming out of my kitchen. This recipe is one that I adapted from a much heavier Rachel Ray version... And it didn't last more than 2 days before it was gone.

Butternut Squash Macaroni and Cheese

Ingredients

• 1lb penne or elbow macaroni

• 4 tbsp butter

• ½ medium onion, finely chopped

• 1 clove garlic, minced

• 4 tbsp flour

• 2½ cups milk

• 10 ounces (2½ cups) shredded cheddar cheese, or a combination of cheddar and gruyere

• 1 cup cooked, pureed butternut squash, from ½ medium squash

• ⅛ tsp nutmeg

• ⅛ tsp pepper

• salt, to taste

For topping:

• 1 cup fresh breadcrumbs or panko

• 2 tbsp minced fresh parsley (or 1 tsp dried)

• 1 tsp lemon zest, optional

• 2 tbsp melted butter

• ½ cup shredded cheddar cheese

Procedure:

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Cook pasta in a large pot of salted, boiling water until al dente (for elbow macaroni, that’s about 7 minutes, for penne, more like 10). Drain and set aside.
3. Meanwhile, melt butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add onion and cook until softened, about 3 minutes. Add garlic and cook 30 seconds. Add flour and cook, stirring constantly, 1 minute. Gradually whisk in milk, a bit at a time.
4. Bring sauce to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce to low and cook until thickened slightly, about 5 minutes.
5. Add shredded cheese, whisking until smooth. Whisk in butternut squash puree, nutmeg, pepper, and salt to taste. Add pasta to the sauce and stir to evenly coat. Transfer pasta to a buttered 2 quart baking dish.
6. In a medium bowl, combine all topping ingredients and sprinkle evenly over pasta. Transfer dish to oven and bake until topping is golden and sauce is bubbling at edges, about 20 minutes.

Stuffed Shells

When I was younger, I wanted more than anything in the world to have an older brother. There was a boy who lived down the street, who was about a year older than I was, and he was so cool--never mind that I found out later he was moderately down syndrome. He was funny, good at video games, and most importantly, a lego architect genius. My older male cousins, too, were some of the coolest people I knew (granted, my world was pretty limited at five years old). I looked up to Steven and Kevin with adoration and respect, and not just because they each had about a decade and at least a foot on me.

My oldest cousin, Steve, would never hesitate to get down on all fours with us and play dog catcher. My cousins and I would clamor around my aunt's house, yipping and nipping at the adults' ankles, and Steve would go right along with our silly game and chase us, put us in the "pound" and make our little fantasy seem totally legitimate and real... I mean, haven't you ever seen a puppy that sports light up LA Gear, embroidered sweatpants and a lovely lady mullet? (I have my mother to thank for my stellar fashion choices in the mid to late eighties.)

Steve's younger brother, Kevin, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with us younger cousins... Which is perhaps why we got so much pleasure out of tormenting him. He had, arguably, cooler toys than Steve (I'd venture a guess that Steve was probably beyond the "toy" phase by the time our gaggle of toddler and adolescent aged cousins came around)--transformers, legos, a miniature suit of armor... All the kinds of things that three to seven year olds really needed to be playing with. We would "sneak" up on Kevin while he was playing computer games and hiding out in the office of my aunt's house, where he instantly retreated the second we showed up for a visit. Deep down, I'm convinced he actually enjoyed our visits. I mean, who wouldn't want a bunch of squealing, pig tailed blondes invading their personal space for days on end?

My understanding of boys, brothers and where babies come from was rather limited when I was a kid. When my mom was pregnant with my younger sister, I remember people asking if I wanted a little brother or sister... What was wrong with these people? Did they not see the splendor that could be made possible by having an older brother? Someone to reach things off of high shelves? Someone to swing me around? Someone to keep the bigger cousins from picking on me (until my sister came along, I was the youngest, and easiest target)? It would have been phenomenal.

I prayed to Jesus, the Easter Bunny, Barbie and just about any holy entity I could think of as a kid. Please, please, please... Someone bring me an older brother... I'll never ask for dessert again! (Fat chance, I was a tub of lard from day one.) I'll always clean my room when asked! (Or throw a tantrum until my nanny, DeeDee, does it for me.) I'll be the best little sister anyone could ever ask for! (Clearly, I had no idea what I was asking for.)

Spoiler alert: I never got an older brother. Biology (and other branches of science, I imagine) kept that from becoming a reality for me. But you can imagine my disappointment when, at three and a half, after nine months of praying and good behavior, I was rewarded with a shiny, pink, YOUNGER SISTER. Could the Easter Bunny have gotten this MORE WRONG? There was clearly some sort of cosmic injustice happening. Maybe the kid down the street had asked for a baby sister? That was clearly not what I had requested.

I eventually got over my disappointment, although I made sure my little sister, Shannon, knew that she was NOT what I had had in mind. I did this by kicking her in the head through the mesh of her play pen, pinching her when no one was looking and essentially inflicting all sorts of torment on her. Granted, she probably deserved some of it---showing up as I was growing out of my chubby, adorable phase (and just being chubby), and giving everyone something new and cute to coddle. What a brat. A big brother never would have pulled that shit. And I bet he would have stolen cookies off the high shelf for me.

Regardless, I eventually grew to appreciate my younger sister. Having someone to beat up on and outsmart was actually rather convenient. And as we got older, we developed a strong friendship. Now, as adults, I consider Shannon one of my best friends. It took me moving out of the house and 1,000 miles away, but we get along, respect and rely on each other. We're in the same corner these days, instead of opposite ones. And really, I've come to accept the fact that a big brother is just not in the cards for this girl.... But if you know anyone with an older brother for sale? Hook it up! There are some cookies on a shelf I can't quite reach.

One of my coworkers recently (as in, like, on Saturday) had her second baby. A girl. Her oldest is a little boy. Is it normal to be phenomenally jealous of an infant? She is set for life! Not only does she have awesomely cool parents, but an older brother to boot! Life... just isn't fair.

And while my knowledge of babies and biology is really limited, I do know that infants are loud and time consuming. And generally messy, annoying blobs of human. So, in order to help my friend out (and ensure that she doesn't forget to feed the older brother, lest someone else be robbed of their dream), I put together some easy freezer meals that are both delicious and (I think) kid-friendly. Kids eat green things, right?

Stuffed Shells

adapted from Taste of Home

24 uncooked pasta shells (jumbo)
1 T olive oil
1 large zucchini, shredded and squeezed dry
1/2 lb. baby portobellos, chopped
1 medium red onion, finely chopped
2 cups ricotta cheese
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
1/2 cup shredded provolone cheese
1/2 cup grated romano cheese
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 t. italian seasoning
1 jar (24 oz) pasta sauce
1/4 grated parmesan cheese

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Cook shells according to package directions until al dente. Drain and cool.

2. Heat oil in large skillet. Add veggies and cook until tender. Remove from heat and transfer to a large bowl. Add ricotta, mozzarella, provolone and Romano cheeses. Stir in egg and seasoning.

3. Spread one cup sauce into the bottom of a 13x9 baking dish, coated with cooking spray. Spoon cheese and vegetable mixture into shells. Place filled shells in baking dish. Top with remaining sauce. Sprinkle parmesan cheese over the top.

4. Bake, unconvered, for 40 minutes. Let stand for 10 minutes before serving.

Ohana Cupcakes

In the past three weeks, I have been in seven different states, teaching at a variety of yearbook and journalism workshops. It was a hectic period of traveling, meeting new kids and advisers and being constantly on the go. When I finally made it home on Monday, I was more than ready for the short break that I will have before I'm off for my next set of camps.

I spent my weeks presenting to students and advisers about a variety of topics, including everything from interviewing and news writing to ice breakers and community building. Despite being constantly on the move and living out of a suitcase for three weeks, I loved every second of my work. Working with kids, whether they were my students or not, is always exciting and rewarding. Networking with other advisers and sharing war stories and feel good moments always reminds me why I love this profession. When I am on campus during the school year, I am the only person who really gets what I do. There isn't another teacher who works with kids the way that I do, runs their classroom the way that I do and oversees the kinds of projects that I do. In a way, that's a blessing--there isn't anyone telling me what to do, or clamoring after my job... But at the same time, it's incredibly isolating. When InDesign does weird things to your text, the school server crashes or the cameras start eating memory cards... There isn't someone next door, or across the hall, or even on the other side of campus that really understands how that impacts your work.

But being able to share my experiences and what I have learned over the years, both with students and other advisers, keeps me going. Sure, I was tired. Sure, losing my voice two days into the first camp made things a little rough. Sure, discovering I have allergies pretty much everywhere except San Diego was an unpleasant surprise... But none of that mattered. I was getting to talk about what I love, with people who get it. People who understand why pizza DURING deadline tastes different that pizza any other time. People who understand why a smile from a snotty teenager can make your day. People who know what it really means to put a project to bed.

Getting to be around so many other dedicated, hard working and motivated people recharges my batteries better than any day by the pool ever could. Since my first workshop in Kansas City, I have been flooded with emails from students and advisers, asking questions, asking me to share my resources and thanking me for reminding them that yearbook (and school) can be fun. I can't deny that I get a little teary eyed every time I read one of those emails. Knowing that drawing a pig, playing rock paper scissors or wrapping clumps of kids in saran wrap made a difference for someone else is rewarding. I have my own kind of crazy, but it works in my classroom. I know it doesn't work for everyone, but I love giving the tools to others so that they can define their own sort of chaos.

I am inspired by the ebb and flow of ideas at the camps I participate it. I get a chance, as a relatively new adviser, to rub elbows with people who have been kicking ass in the yearbook business longer than I've been alive. I get a chance to watch people work their magic with kids, getting them excited about everything--from singing "I'm a little teapot" to going nuts with the "Interlude." I get to see a kind of passion that is, sadly, missing from my day to day work environment. Yearbook people are special people. We're a bunch of crazy weirdos, but we get each other. We support each other. And we get damn excited about fonts, picas, kerning and margins with each other.

Despite the fact that camp after camp after camp is exhausting, I'll never stop doing it. I'll never give up the opportunity to watch others inspire students, or to be inspired by them. I'll never stop sharing my resources or my ideas. I'll never stop loving what I do--because it's never the same. It changes every year, with every new set of kids. Every time I think I have a recipe for a perfect year figured out, I hear a new idea from someone at a workshop, and my mind is blown.

I don't think there is a perfect way to build a yearbook staff. I don't think there is a perfect method for working with teenagers. But I do know that my summers are perfect, just the way they are... Crazy, busy, hectic, frazzled... And inspiring. Not only do I get the opportunity to inspire kids far beyond the confines of my classroom, but I get to work with folks that I have an incredible amount of respect for, and who I look up to.

Since I started advising, many people have taken a chance on me. It started with my administration, being willing to let a new teacher juggle both yearbook and newspaper (on top of an English load). Then my yearbook rep pushed for me to teach at my first workshop--which required a good amount of faith on her part, and a huge leap of faith on behalf of the workshop coordinator. From there, pieces fell into place. JEA allowed me to work with students through their conferences. Other camps opened their doors to me. Other people saw me teach and told me they were impressed, inspired. And that motivated me. It motivated me to keep going, keep doing what I was doing, and keep working to make it better. It's been an amazing experience so far, and I am so grateful for what I've been able to do, because it has made such a difference for the kids in my classroom. From my supporters from my yearbook publishing company, to my fellow advisers, to their students... All of these people have become my extended yearbook family.

Just as I am inspired by my fellow teachers and their students, I am also inspired by other bakers, bloggers and photographers. I follow several cooking blogs, and when I need inspiration or ideas, they are the first place that I look. When I need an idea to run with, I know I can check a few sites and have a meal planned in minutes. I know that my circle of blogging bakers will always come through when I need a recipe... In a way, they've become my virtual, constantly available, kitchen family.

So what better recipe to share than one, to me, says, "Family"? I made these cupcakes to take to yearbook camp last week, so that my Yerd Family could have a homemade treat to enjoy before all of our craziness ensued. The recipe is one that I adapted from one of my fellow baking, blogging diva contacts, so it's a perfect marriage of things I love coming full circle. I've changed the recipe a bit, given it a new name and made something delicious in the process. Just sharing the love for, as Stitch would say, my "Ohana."

Ohana Pinapple Cupcakes

photo provided by cupcakegarden.com

Epic fail on my part... I forgot to take pictures before everyone ate them.

Pineapple Cake:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour*

• 1 1/2 cups sugar*

• 1 tablespoon baking powder*

• 1/2 cup non-fat dry milk*

• 1/3 C. melted butter, cooled

• 3 eggs

• 1 1/4 C. crushed pineapple with juice

• 1 tsp. vanilla extract

• 1 tsp. lemon extract

*These ingredients can be omitted if you would prefer to just buy a box of yellow cake mix. But that is totally cheating and I will judge you for it.

Cream Cheese Frosting:

• 1/2 C. butter, softened
• 8 oz cream cheese, softened
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract
• 3-4 C. powdered sugar
• Dried pineapple for garnish

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line pans with cupcake liners.
2. Sift dry cake ingredients into a small bowl and set aside.
3. In a large bowl combine butter, eggs, pineapple and vanilla extract. Mix on high until fluffy.
4. Stir in cake mix until smooth.
5. Fill cupcake liners 3/4 full and bake for 17-22 minute or until and inserted knife comes out clean.
6. Let cool.
7. Frosting: Beat butter and cream cheese for 2 minutes until smooth. Add vanilla extract and slowly add powdered sugar until you reach your desired consistency. If it becomes too thick, whipping cream.
8. Dollop onto cooled cupcakes. 

Chicken Taco Soup

After being gone for about ten days, and knowing that I only had a few precious days at home before my next stint of traveling, I had an overwhelming urge, from the minute I walked in my front door (at 11 PM, mind you) to BAKE ALL THE THINGS. COOK ALL THE THINGS. I just wanted to revel in the glory that was my kitchen, food readily available and of my choosing. Not a hotel catering service. Not a dining hall. Not Easy Mac, stirred with a car key and eaten with a dorm swipe card. 

Before I left, I had embarked on a breakfast adventure--treating my boyfriend to delicious, boozy cinnamon rolls, baked from scratch and topped with a gooey, cream cheese and bourbon frosting. I'd even had the foresight to freeze half the batch and leave him baking instructions, so he could make them on his own without me (obviously, this was a ploy to keep him from getting upset about me taking off for nearly two weeks). This confectionary masterpiece became dubbed as "special breakfast," and it precluded my desire to COOK ALL THE THINGS. You don't get the recipe for that... But it's an important part of this story. That's why I'm telling you. That, and I'm a little bit of a tease.

In another attempt to keep my boyfriend from hating me, my job, my commitments to camps around the country and my inability to say no to a teaching offer, I left presents. Presents and notes. For each day I was gone. Yes, its nauseatingly adorable and you're throwing up in your mouth a little. It's ok.  I would be making gagging faces at myself right now, if I weren't so head over heels in love with this boy. There is some adage that says something about having to have survived the worst to be able to appreciate the best. I've written off my past as an experience I needed to have. A painful, challenging, horrendous learning experience. And now? Now I know that I have something good--someone who cares about me, appreciates my ambition, supports my decisions and balances me. Proof:

Special breakfast was reciprocated. After being gone for what felt like forever, my first morning back home consisted of french toast (from REAL french bread), mimosas and absolutely no work on my part. Watching my boyfriend feverishly stir cinnamon into cold milk, visibly frustrated that it wouldn't dissolve, scrolling through his recipe on his iPad... I melted a little. He was willing to step in to my realm, try his hand at something that I love doing, just to make me feel special. And while I have known for some time that this boy was special, there was definite confirmation that morning.  I felt lucky. Content. Happy. And it was ok that, other than a quick trip to the store, we spent the entire day doing nothing. It's not my MO, but it felt good. I could revel in a day of laziness, because I wasn't going to have to pick up the slack later by myself. 

I have gotten used to taking care of myself. I have needed to know that I can fix things, do things, manage things on my own. But in the past few months, I've slowly gotten comfortable NOT having to do them on my own. My boyfriend may not be an expert on fixing sprinklers, but we figured it out together. He may not be super jazzed to mount my TV or fix a loose hinge, but he'll do it. He may not love to cook, but he'll get up and make me breakfast because he knows I'm exhausted and worn out from traveling. He'll do things not because he wants to, not because he gets anything out of it, not because he has some ulterior motive... He just wants to make me happy. And that makes me the luckiest girl in the whole world (insert gagging noises here). 

And in return, I want to do everything, be everything, bake, cook and clean everything, embody everything that perfect should be. I know what it feels like to be unappreciated, and I want to make sure that I never make another person feel that way. I can't help but have some guilt about my summer spent jumping around from one camp in one city to the next. Being gone for a total of almost an entire month doesn't seem like a thing you do for someone you really care about. So naturally, when I am home, I want to DO ALL THE THINGS that I can to demonstrate my appreciation. 

I've always considered my kitchen abilities to be something of a gift. I just have a knack for throwing things together that work. Which is surprising, because I don't understand any of the science behind it and I often screw up the math. But it still works (further proof that math and science are unnecessary). And as someone with an overwhelming need to help others (hence for years as an RA), putting my gift to work and feeding people is a natural outlet for me. So when we started talking about dinner ideas, after Special Breakfast #2, I knew that this recipe would be a winner. First, it has beer in it. I mean, who doesn't want beer with their dinner? Second, it all goes in a slow cooker... So I could spend the whole day finishing our two bottles of champagne and orange juice, while dinner cooked itself.

Chicken Taco Soup

• 1 red onion, diced
• 1 (16 oz) can chili beans, drained
• 1 (16 oz) can black beans, drained
• 1 (16 oz) can corn, drained
• 1 (8 oz) can tomato sauce
• 1 (12 oz) bottle of beer
• 1 (10 oz) can diced tomatoes with green chiles
• 1 packet taco seasoning
• 3 whole boneless, skinless chicken breasts
• 1 jalapeño, diced
• 1 red bell pepper, diced
• 1 green bell pepper, diced
• 1 t cayenne
• 1 t garlic salt
• 1 T minced garlic
• 1/2 cup chicken stock
• 1/4 cup cilantro

1. Place all ingredients in a slow cooker, except for the chicken. Stir well.

2. Submerge the chicken breasts in the other ingredients (make sure they are covered).

3. Set slow cooker for low heat and cook for 5 hours.

4. Remove chicken breasts about four hours in. Shred. Return to soup for one more hour.

5. Serve with sliced avocado, crushed tortilla chips and queso fresco.

Cilantro & Lime Sauce

Standing on the stage at James Madison University last weekend, I was staring out into an auditorium full of shiny high school faces... And I didn't know a single one of them. It was a weird feeling for me--to be at yearbook camp, without my kids, getting ready to kick off a weekend of Yerding without the crowd I'm used to doing this with. And for some reason, I was overcome with such crazy self-doubt that I wasn't sure I was going to be able to get through my opening presentation. Maybe my skills don't translate across the country?

Of course, I was being silly. Insecure. I just lost my footing for a minute--a temporary stumble, but I caught myself. I lead things off with a loud (as loud as I could be after losing my voice for the 5th or 6th time in two weeks), "If you can hear my voice clap once..." call out, and we were off. We drew pigs. We made funny faces. We did things in a minute to win it. We ate candy for breakfast. We made it rain. And we yearbooked. A lot. And learned. A lot.

There was one evening, the last night of camp, I think, when I was lounging in the computer lab with one of my fellow instructors and a sales rep from Baltimore. We were chit chatting, talking about all the weirdo kids you find at yearbook camp and in your classroom, and one girl (one of the aforementioned odd balls) came up to ask me some questions about the writing class I had taught earlier in the day. I went over her notes with her and when I was done, she just smiled and said, "Thanks Ms. Young. I learned really good from you. You've got good styles and I think my writing is going to be more better."

The irony of her compliments were not lost on me, but it still melted my heart a little bit. I'm used to being in a classroom with kids for months before I can get them to worship the ground I walk on and hang on every word. But this girl felt like I had made a difference for her in just a few short days. And despite the self doubt that I had felt at the start of camp, I felt invincible. If I can get kids to nerd out on font and page design and King Pica and Adobe Kuler during their summer vacation, then I'm on the right track. It doesn't matter WHERE the kids are--Orange County, San Diego, or the East Coast--I know how to get through to them, even without cupcakes.

And sometimes, I get that same feeling when I tackle a meal in my kitchen. I don't always know what I'm doing when I start out, but somehow, it all comes together in the end. And I might still be unsure of myself, even as I dish it out... But all it takes is one compliment, one "yum," a second helping and a smile for me to know that I did it right. I do know what I am doing in the kitchen, despite not having any sort of actual training (other than watching my dad when I was growing up).

I watch cooking shows (probably more than I'd like to admit), and I think that it is something I would like to try. But then I watch the contestants fillet a fish, or do some sort of fancy mousse or crazy recipe from their memory and I just don't think I can hack it. But when I'm presented with my own mystery box and a flavor that I want to create, I  manage to nail it. Maybe I do have what it takes.

This sauce is something I threw together, while watching Master Chef, and making tacos. After being gone for 10 days, I was itching to cook so I wanted to make everything. As I was setting out the bowls of chopped onions, peppers, shredded chicken, cheese and cilantro, I realized that there wasn't any sauce or salsa. Needless to say, problem solved...

Cilantro & Lime Sauce

• 1 cup fresh cilantro
• 1/4 cup greek yogurt
• 2 T miso paste
• 2 T olive oil
• 1/4 cup lime juice
• 1/4 large avocado
• 1 t garlic salt
• 1 t pepper
• 1 t cayenne

1. Toss in blender/food processor/magic bullet. Blend until smooth.

2. Top your favorite festive dish... Fish, chicken, tacos, chips, etc.