Remembering

Hello Peeps!

I don’t suppose that expression is in vogue any longer, or that last one for that matter, but I am terribly inept at keeping up with such things, and I suppose, rather tragically unhip.  It’s okay.  I am also feeling summer slip through my fingers, along with keeping up with the blog.  We’ve had so many activities in our normally quiet life that I am having a hard time balancing anything.  Today, however, I am making a little extra effort, one that you can capitalize on, too.  Believe me when I tell you that this recipe can change lives and elevate dinner parties to great heights.  I can’t tell you how many people swoon over this.  The best part?  Two ingredients!  Three if you need salt.  No kidding!

Greg and I first had this mighty fine sauce at Juanita’s Uptown (sadly it disappeared years ago) in Denver with our super fun and rather cosmopolitan friends the Dews.  They lived in an apartment straight out of Dynasty, complete with an elevator.  The fun part (aside from their ebullient personalities and crazy personal histories) was the consternation on the part of the elevator operator when Susie hollered, “Beam them up Scotty!”

Anyway, the sauce came as an accompaniment to steamed mussels, which I love.  But it tasted so totally yummy that had I not been on good behavior (despite one of Bill’s stellar and killer margaritas in my belly) in the company of friends and strangers, I could have forgone the mussels and warm tortillas, eaten the sauce with a spoon, and licked the bowl.  I kid you not.

I tried for ages to replicate the magic concoction with dried chipotles, cheese, flour, and just about everything else I could think of.  Then I was lucky enough to have one of the waitresses in a Geography class (hello college days) and she divulged the not so secret ingredients.  Chipotles in adobo sauce and whipping cream.  Seriously?  After all my hard work?  That was it?  Yup.

Whipping Cream

Chipotle Chiles in Adobo Sauce (available in the Latin section of the market)

In a small saucepan, add some cream.  You decide how much – I use anywhere from 1/2 cup to 1 1/2 cups, depending on how many people will be eating it.   Add a little bit of the chipotles (I blend the entire contents of a can, as it is usually whole chiles, in a food processor until fairly smooth and store in a jar in the refrigerator), stir, and taste.  Add more if the flavor seems too creamy or you want more spice.  It’s really up to you.  Heat the sauce over medium until bubbly.  Allow it to reduce until thick.  Pour it over whatever strikes your fancy – chicken, pork, beef, mussels, enchiladas, a firm white fish, or a bowl full of beans.  You could also stand next to the stove, grab a stack of tortillas, dip them in the pan, and go to town.  It’s all good.

Enjoy!

When I was in high school and college, I worked at an Italian family restaurant.  It was very homey, decorated for every holiday, and served really good food.  It was red sauce galore, pizza, great steaks, pepperoni on the salad, and one of the best sandwiches in the world – The Sausage Special.  Made on garlic bread with green chiles and just a touch of that sauce,  it made me ever so happy.  Whenever I visit my parents, a visit must be made to indulge.

It was the eighties, and there was lots of drama at the restaurant, not to mention make-up, big hair, big clothes, and personalities to match, save one.  The sister of the owner, Aunt Liz, was a hostess on one of the shifts I worked.  I loved her.  She was soft spoken and kind, beautiful without a stitch of make up, had great style, close cropped hair, and made this awesome strawberry cake.  She brought it in a 13×9 pan with a metal lid that slid across the top, like the lip gloss that I loved.  To be honest, the cake could have been pretty average, and I may still have liked it, just for the sake of the container.  I am that kind of person.  But, it wasn’t just the tin, the cake was gorgeous and delicious.  So strawberry!  So summer!

I got the recipe from her but never made it, but it has been on my mind lately.  The memories of it have been clearer.  So yesterday, when I got an awesome deal on organic strawberries (three pounds for two dollars!) I made these cupcakes in homage to her.  They aren’t Aunt Liz’s recipe – hers were the frozen in syrup kind – but boy oh boy are they delicious and cute as a button.  We shared them with the neighbors, but mum’s the word if you want to eat them all yourself.  You just might.

Adapted from 1 Mix, 100 Muffins, by Susanna Tee

Strawberry Cupcakes

1 cup flour

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/8 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup sugar

2 eggs

1 cup milk

6 tablespoons sunflower or other mild oil

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 cup strawberries, hulled

Preheat the oven to 400.  Grease or line a 12 cup muffin pan.  Sift the flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt, in a large bowl.  Puree the eggs, milk, oil, vanilla, and strawberries (I used a large measuring cup and my trusty hand blender).  Pour over the dry ingredients, and stir gently until just combined.  Do not overmix.

Spoon the batter into the prepared pan.  Bake for about 20 minutes, or until well risen, golden brown, and firm to the touch.  Allow to cool for five minutes in the pan before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.

Strawberry Frosting

1/4 cup strawberries, hulled

4 tablespoons butter, slightly softened

1/4 cup shortening

pinch salt

1 1/2 – 2 cups powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

Puree the strawberries (again, the hand blender in a measuring cup – or mash with a fork), set aside.  Beat together the butter, shortening, and salt, until light and fluffy.  Reduce mixer speed and slowly add 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar, beat until combined.  Add the strawberry puree and mix just until blended.  You may need the extra 1/2 cup of powdered sugar here, if the frosting is too wet.

Frost your cooled cupcakes and top with strawberry halves, if you like.

Enjoy!