Butter Brickle Frozen Delight

What’s in a name? that which we call a rose, by any other name would smell…

Just as sweet.

Call me wallflower girl. Does that sound sweet to you?

It’s always been a source of minor discomfort to me how fast I can turn from the happy locus of attention among a group of friends to a complete, total wallflower in other social situations. Even when I’m ostensibly happily immersed in a large-group conversation, I can just as easily be that awkward person standing between two people who are having a really great discussion.The only things that make it slightly less great are that…

1) they’re having the discussion across you instead of with you,

2) you’re already part of the circle and can’t leave without seeming rude, so you have to stand there and politely nod at some neutral viewing space between the two people with a look as glazed as a fresh donut,

3) the said conversationists will inevitably give you an acknowledging glance every, oh, half a minute or so, to let you know that they know you’re still there. And that they’re maybe trying to include you. But you’ve been so busy staring at the back of somebody else’s head for the past 30 seconds that you don’t know what they were talking about anyway, and so you just smile.

4) You find out you were smiling while they were talking about something super serious. Like the resurgence of the bubonic plague in a remote corner of New Zealand or something. And then you just feel pretty dumb.

Social situations and I can sometimes get along like, say, water and oil that has caught on fire. For your reference, apparently you’re not supposed to throw water on a stovetop on which oil has flamed up. Instant flambe. Very good to know.

So that’s my metaphor for me and human society. Like, all of it.

Having recently watched the movie that partly informed the namesake for this blog (Perks of Being a Wallflower), I haven’t been able to stop thinking what it means to be a wallflower. My friend recently asked me what made my blog different from all the other faded-background-cool-Joe-lighting-photo food blogs out there, and I realized I couldn’t answer him.

Of course, one perk of being a wallflower (or wallflour) girl like me is that you always have plenty of time to think about these things.

I’m an amateur baker/cook/kitchen fairy. I’m also a food blogger, for all of 5 months or something like that. I’m somebody who writes here because sometimes, to be honest, I wouldn’t have any idea how to express these thoughts somewhere else, to people who know what I’m like in the “real world.” And I write because it’s nice being part of a community that doesn’t care whether I have something incredibly witty to say on the spot when I’m asked how I feel about the final Twilight installment.

But I’m also an avid reader of literature, a geeky Sailor Moon fan, a self-proclaimed Disney expert, and I have thoughts. Not always smart thoughts–but some sort of mental activity registers every time I sit down at the computer to type it all out.

And my thought today is this:

Why not make this more than an ordinary, story-sharing blog?

So it’s been decided. Just like that.

Look forward to some experimental, fun freestyling stuff in these upcoming posts: I’m thinking posts in verse, posts in foreign languages, graphic/visual posts, literary posts, and all sorts of other fun stuff. After all, what fun is it being a wallflower girl if you can’t be a wildflower under an alias?

Do you have any ideas that would make for a FUN type of blog post?

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

Oh, and viva +4 years forward.

Butter Brickle Frozen Delight

Adapted from Allrecipes

Yield: 8×8-inch springform pan

Ingredients: 

• 1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs
• 6 tablespoons butter, melted
• 1/3 cup white sugar
• 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cup quick-cooking oats
• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 cup butter, melted
• 3/4 cup chopped nuts
• 1 (16 oz.) can sweetened condensed milk
• 1 (8 oz.) package cream cheese, softened
• 1 (8 oz.) tub frozen whipped topping, thawed
• 1 (14 oz.) jar caramel dessert topping

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a medium bowl, combine graham cracker crumbs, 6 tablespoons melted butter, white sugar, and cinnamon. Press gently and evenly into the bottom of a lightly-greased 8-inch springform pan. Bake in preheated oven for 6 minutes. Remove and set aside to cool.
2. Increase oven temperature to 400 degrees F. Using the same bowl, combine flour, oats, brown sugar, 1/2 cup melted butter, and nuts. Spread in a thin layer across baking sheet. Bake for 12-15 minutes, until golden brown. Crumble while hot, and set aside to cool.
3. In a large bowl, beat together condensed milk and cream cheese until smooth and fluffy. Fold in frozen topping. Spread half of the mixture on top of cooled crust, then sprinkle half of the butter brickle crumb over this layer. Cover evenly with half of the caramel dessert topping. Repeat layering.
4. Freeze until firm (best overnight), then remove springform pan sides before serving. Serve with additional caramel if desired.

A (Bon-Bon) Birthday Bash

It’s probably rather belated to be announcing this via the world wide ether, but since yesterday (August 12th) was my birthday, I’m claiming my birthday-ial prerogative to say what I want, and–

–and there goes the punch line. Oops. My friends always did tell me I was the worst joke-teller in the world. Guess these things don’t really change with age, huh?

Anyway, Happy Belated Birthday, Me!

I never really understood the people who get really, really melancholic when their birthday tumbles around like a jolly rolly-poly each year. The only living creature that’s allowed to get marginally depressed about a day that’s all about celebrating you, in my opinion, is Eeyore, and that’s only because he A.A. Milne is a genius, may he rest in peace. Plus, he–that is, the donkey–is just so darn cute.

Of course, I can only imagine what Eeyore would say in that slow, gloomy voice of his if he saw this cake (I’ll tell you why in a second):

Okay, here’s the secret: I didn’t actually get to eat any yet.

Thanks, Eeyore. I can feel your gloomy sympathetic vibrations. (Haunted Mansion reference, anyone? No? Okay, never mind…I’ve obviously been reading too much of the amazing Disneyland Encyclopedia I got myself as an early “birthday present.”)

This is the world’s best, most nostalgia-filled ice cream cake ever known to mankind. I exaggerate. And again, I cite my belated-birthday-prerogative to do so. It’s the best. Period. Mocha almond fudge ice cream stuffed inside a smooth, I-don’t-know-to-this-day-how-they-do-it-chocolate-ganache/frosting with green icing and frosted with chopped nuts. YUM.

If anyone has any ideas about how I can put Baskin Robbins out of business by replicating this frosting, I would not be opposed at all.

That being said, as a very loyal customer…ahem…

I ask for this cake every single year we’re at home for my birthday. For the past few years, all I’ve gotten was a lousy slightly less satisfactory ice cream pie version of this. It’s not nearly as good. It’s like trying to compare a vacation to Disneyland with, say, a “vacation” to your local petting zoo. Sure, the latter’s quaint. No, it’s never going to be as good. And your parents need to stop pretending it is, suck it up, and get you the real deal. (But hey, I love my parents anyway.)

At any rate, we didn’t eat this cake because I spent Saturday celebrating my birthday a day early with my friends. We bought a carrot cake and served the ice cream bon-bombes I made for the occasion because a) it would feed more mouths, and b) frankly, I’m extremely territorial when it comes to my ice cream cake (hey, you would be too if you got to eat it only once every 365 days) so generous and thought ahead about how my small, six-inch round ice cream cake wouldn’t feed all of my friends. So kind. It must come with, erm, the maturity of age. Yeah.

My mom still babies me when I come home and cooks me up feasts like I’m a starving, helpless newborn. I generally try not to correct this mistaken impression.

Helpless? Sure I am. Newborn? Uhhh…yeah, if you say so. Does that mean I get to eat this stuff every night?

Anyway, every year I’m reminded of why I love turning a year older. I lied earlier when I said that it’s a day about celebrating you–it’s really a day about celebrating the fact that you can share your day with everybody else around you that you care about. And every year I’m reminded that every day should be, you know, birthday status. (The birthday girl privileges, while obviously not a given, would be a nice side perk to keep around.)

For my birthday, my mom made me my favorite dish ever–Chinese chicken salad, a la mom. It’s seriously one of the only meat dishes I will ask to eat, and so worth every extra carbon footprint I add by eating it. (Of course, I would just as happily eat a tofu and/or soy meat variation on this–but that’s pure unheard-of nonsense in my household. “You want meat sub-ee-whaaa?” they say. “Eat chicken. Good for you.” I grossly exaggerate. And now I digress.)

You can also tell when the carnivore, a.k.a. my brother is around for dinner, because then the whole cow comes out on the groaning table.

My friends came over to our newly-recarpeted place and spent all of Saturday night burning the night oil playing board games, solving logic puzzles, and being completely conniving jerks in a game called Revolution. It’s sort of like Mafia, but everybody gets to play, and nobody gets killed–it’s all about reading other people’s ability to lie and trying to collaborate to figure out who’s on your team.

I’m a huge fan of backstabbing/deceit games (apparently I’m the worst person to play Munchkins with; I’m a notoriously good con-woman, which should serve as a warning sign of…something?). My palms were seriously sweaty; I was a government spy for five turns in a row, and by the end of the last game of the night at two in the morning, my friend said that his heard had been torn a million times throughout the night because he trusted me so many times.

Oops. Sorry, bud.

It was, however, an awesome start to a new age, and it was killer getting to pass a birthday midnight with my crew. On the actual day of my birthday, my parents bought us all Les Mis tickets!

Now, I’ve seen my fair share of very good musicals–Wicked, Rent, Lion King, Phantom, the list goes on and on–and this was definitely in the top three. I’ve (slightly shamefully) never heard anything about the storyline, much less read Hugo’s complete Les Mis, but I enjoyed the performance so much. Not only were the singers stellar–the men who sang for Jean Valjean and Javert were amazing–but the actors just drew you in in a way that is so difficult for musicals to achieve in good faith.

I loved everything from the revolution story, to the personal story of a converted convict, to the tragic and happy fates of the lovers. It was all beautifully done, and I would see it again in a heartbeat. Plus I guess it didn’t hurt that Marius was such a good looker, huh?

Only kidding. Sort of.

Yeah, not really.

Anyway, remember what I said earlier about ice cream cakes being my favorite dessert in the world? I lied. Again. What can I say? I’m a chronic liar with backstabbing talents. The CIA should hire me.

This is my favorite dessert–jello cheesecake, made by my auntie. I tried making this once, failed miserably like Les Mis, and stuck to being fed like a foie gras duck. And my aunt made it just for my birthday!

I’m going to post this recipe when I try it again. You need to try this. Just maybe not very soon. My recipe. My cheesecake.

Anyway, the rest of the night was spent with more amazing food and family time. One last thing before I turn in for the night after all the festivities…

Can you guess what this is?

I’ll give you a hint…

Yeah. Weird, right? In the wise words of Erik Per Sullivan the seahorse from finding nemo, it’s…the butt.

And on that incredibly mature, new-age note, I’m off to listen to some Susan Boyle before I go to sleep. NEDFM post for today will have to wait until, er, later today. Happy reading, and happy eatings to y’all!

NEDFM Challenge Day 11: Ice Cream “Bon-Bombes”

The following is a faithful account of my rather tenuous encounter with airport security as I was flying back to school last holiday season.

I was armed with your standard wayfarer airline-approved duffel bag, a bunch of frozen Lunar New Year bamboo-wrapped glutinous rice bundles (if you have no idea what I’m talking about, it’s this), and some not-so-common-sense.

Security guy (holding up my duffel from the x-ray machine): Miss, is this your bag?

Me: Oh. Yeah, that’s mine.

SG: What’s in here?

Me: My clothes, some books I brought from home.

SG: Is that all?

Me: Yeah.

SG (pulling out the bundle of zongzi): Do you want to explain what this is, then?

(The zongzi have apparently, by this time, begun to defrost in my bag. They’re dripping like a very suspicious, heavily-wrapped bag of liquid uranium or something.) 

Me: Oh. (Stopping short for a second. Probably looking very suspicious in general as I consider how to explain it, and then just decide–rather stupidly–not to bother.) Yeah. That too. I forgot about that.

SG: Well? What is it?

Me: It’s this thing I’m bringing home for, like, Chinese New Year. It’s this sticky rice, er, thing wrapped in bamboo. (Pause) Yeah. That’s about it.

SG: Why is it dripping? Is it a liquid?

Me: No…it’s just…melting. I mean…yeah, it’s not a liquid. It’s sticky rice. In bamboo.

SG (Tossing the bag up and down in his palm): And it’s rock hard?

Me: No, it’s actually soft. Well, we froze it. So it’d last longer and…stuff.

SG: Miss, you’re going to have to take it out and show us what’s in there.

(At this moment, I stare down and notice with a sinking feeling that my mom has wrapped, tied up, layered, and sealed the entire package with a rigidity that only my mom can accomplish. It’s completely leak-proof. It is also completely tamper-proof, openable-proof, dent-proof, security-proof, and me-proof.)

Me: Er, yeah. Just hang on…

A full two minutes later, after my fingers are raw from digging through layers upon layers of glacially-sealed plastic bags, I finally manage to pry out a frozen zongzi that–truth be told–could probably kill someone if I threw it at them.

Terrorist weapon? Not really.

Just a really dangerous thing to be putting in the hands of a girl who might at any time trip over a first-class seat cupholder and send those rocks flying at somebody’s head? Maybe.

So after receiving several credulous looks from the security guards, none of whom seem to know what to do with these potential security hazards, they finally let me pass. I’m assuming that they assumed that a rather lacking-in-common-sense gal like me probably wouldn’t know what to do with an armament even if she had access to one on board.

That’s probably true, too.

So what’s the lesson that we all learned from this little anecdote?

Don’t ever, ever let me attempt to board an airplane while carrying a tray of these bon-bombes, a.k.a. mini dessert bombes.

Why, you ask?

Well, let’s just think about it for a straight second…

Security Guard: Miss, what are these?

Me: Oh, those? Just some bombes I made.

……….

Yeah, I’ll let you figure out the rest.

By the way, aren’t these just the cutest shot glasses in the world? Meet Rabid Rabbit, Skulk the Schizophrenic Cat, and Post-Security-Guard-Encounter Me.

  

I used them to hold some of the extra bon-bon/bombe frozen filling I made–half raspberry, half cookie butter swirl (I swear, it’s like I’m possessed by cookie butter or something! Not that I’m complaining…).

Hope you make some “bon-bombes” too to celebrate National Raspberry Bombe Day! If you have an airport anecdote to tell, or a funny story about something a rather embarrassing lapse of judgment that has hit you recently, please share! I’d love to feel, you know, not completely alone in my less-than-common-sense encounters.

Happy reading, and happy eatings!

NEDFM Challenge Day 8: Molten Lava Cake with Vanilla Frozen Custard

What do Katy Perry and my dinner tonight share in common?

I’ll give you a hint:

You’re hot then you’re cold, you’re yes then you’re no…

Only with this molten lava cake topped with creamy frozen custard, there only sounds I heard around the table were, yes, yes, yes!

If you’re at all like me and just can’t choose, this dessert is a perfect way to celebrate the joy of indecision.

This dessert is probably not good for:

a: People who like getting what they want, the way they want it.

b: People who don’t like really delicious desserts.  It’s okay since these people don’t really exist. They’re urban myths. We’re okay.

c: Parents who need their children to listen to them. When you get the best of both worlds in a dessert course like this, it’s really hard to follow it up with a stern moral lecture like, “You can’t always have everything.” Because your rather sassy child will just point at their plate and give you a look that plainly says, “I just did.” And you won’t be able to say anything. Because it’s true.

If you’re not one of these people, or is you’re willing to suspend long-term doubts for the benefit of utter, complete short-term bliss, then I’d recommend you heading over to your kitchen right now. These are good.

To show you how good they are, we had a few of the cakes left but ran out of the custard. My friend, never one to be daunted by the apparent lack of resources, ran into the kitchen and came back bearing…tupperware. The tupperware that had carried my frozen custard, to be more precise. There was still some on the sides.

My friend picked up the cake…

…and smeared it around the entire tupperware box to get at the remaining custard that had been clinging obstinately to the sides and bottom.

No shame, people. No shame with these custard-topped cakes.

Molten Lava Cake

Adapted from Allrecipes.

Yield: 12 muffin-sized lava cakes

Ingredients:

• 1 cup margarine or butter, unsalted
• 8 oz. semisweet chocolate chips
• 5 large eggs
• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 4 teaspoons flour

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees F (only if you plan on baking right away). In a large, microwave-safe bowl, heat margarine and chocolate chips at medium power for 30 seconds. Give the mixture a quick stir, then heat at medium power for an additional 15 seconds, or until mixture is completely smooth when stirred rapidly. Set aside.
2. Beat eggs in a medium-sized bowl. Add sugar and salt; beat in until sugar is completely dissolved.
3. Pour egg mixture into chocolate mixture and beat until smooth. Add flour; mix until just combined.
4. Set aside in fridge for up to six hours. Return to room temperature before baking. If you decide to bake right away, divide batter into 12 well-greased muffin tins (lined or unlined) or molds/ramekins. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes, until most of the cake is set but centers still look slightly gooey. Sprinkle with powdered sugar and serve immediately, with frozen custard if desired (recipe below).

Vanilla Frozen Custard

Adapted from Allrecipes.

Yield: Approximately 2 cups custard

Ingredients:

• 1 cup white sugar
• 2 cups heavy cream, divided
• 1/2 cup milk
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Directions:

1. In a heavy saucepan, combine white sugar, 1 cup cream, and milk. Bring to a light simmer over medium-low heat. Remove from heat, then quickly pour half of the mixture into the beaten eggs. Whisk very quickly to avoid allowing your eggs to scramble! Then pour the whole egg mixture back into the saucepan.
2. Stir remaining cream into saucepan. Over medium-low heat, bring to a light boil while stirring constantly until mixture thickens up properly, or about ten minutes. It should thicken enough to coat the back of your spoon. (In other words, if you dunk the spoon into the mixture, lift it up horizontally, and run a finger along the back of the spoon, the finger-path should be well-defined and keep its shape. If the custard is too runny, keep cooking!)
3. Allow mixture to cool to room temperature. Pour into a shallow freezer-safe pan and transfer to freezer. Briskly stir custard once every half hour or so to prevent it from turning icy. Allow to freeze for at least three hours total, or until it turns into a nice, creamy consistency that holds its shape when scooped. Serve with molten lava cakes, apple pie, or just a serving of pure bliss!

National Eat Dessert First Month Challenge Day 5: Ice Cream Sundae

It’s the fifth day of National Eat Dessert First! Month, an entire 31 days dedicated to a different themed dessert but, more importantly, getting those desserts onto our plates and palates! Each day will feature a new guest chef’s photos and recipes for each theme. If you’re interested in joining in for a dessert-tastic month, read the details at the Dessert Month Challenge post. It’s never too late to start!

Our wonderful Day 5 entry features a mouth-watering, refreshing ice cream sundae from Alicia (a.k.a. karasumaa). Doesn’t it look fantastic? Leave a thought!

THEMED ENTRY #5: ICE CREAM SUNDAE WITH BLUEBERRY SAUCE

Courtesy of: Alicia

More pictures and the recipe link

Frozen Treats Galore! Cookie Butter Chunk ‘n Swirl Cinnamon Ice Cream, Coffee Dark Chocolate Chunk Ice Cream, and Ice Cream Sammy Bon Bons (A.k.a. National Eat Dessert First Month Day 2 Theme Post)

If you’ve ever heard a holiday song–and I’m talking winter holidays here–blaring from some sacrilegious corner of the bus in the middle of August, chances are that one of your eyebrows will quirk up. You’ll probably roll your eyes as you try to ignore the strains of “Last Christmas” wafting in on the public transportation air behind you. After two choruses and a bridge, when the song reaches that really annoying part where the singers are warbling the title over and over again with as much grace as a shrieking fence-posted cat, you’ll most likely sigh really loud to let the person know, with a certain level of passive-aggressiveness, that they’re irking you. You will probably even shoot glances around you at your fellow passengers to confirm that they all have the same exasperated looks on their faces, and give them the knowing look when you guys make eye contact.

Got anything we can throw at Christmas Song Freak back there without being sued? their and your expressions will clearly say. And you’ll both shrug helplessly, caught in a state of mutual and lingering frustration, until Christmas Song Freak finally gets off at the second-to-last stop. Of course, you had to be going to the last.

Chances are also that that Christmas Song Freak is me. I mean, how many of us could there be in this world?

I love the winter holidays. I love everything about them–the holiday spirit, the holiday decorations, the holiday smiles and hugs, even the holiday-inspired-laughter-at-disgruntled-shoppers that I frequently indulge in. I’m generally a very easygoing person, and winter is just my season.

Summer is my season though, too. I love everything about the summer holidays–the summer reads, the summer beach runs, the summer weather, the summer outings, the summer nights spent in shorts and sleeveless shirts, the summer guys and dates…I’m generally a very easygoing person, and–yup, you guessed it–summer is just my season. I’m not super picky, really, as long as I’m having fun.

The only real plus in my humble opinion that summer wields over winter is the ice cream. Let’s face it–there’s no better way to come out of hibernation mode and shed that winter coat than with a huge bowl of homemade ice cream. Okay, so maybe ice cream isn’t exactly the best way of shedding a winter coat…but summer only happens 25% of the year and that means we need to celebrate it while we can, right? Right. Plus I get to use my Mickey Mouse ice cream scoop.

Part of me, though–and this is the Christmas-music-playing-on-the-summer-solstice part of me–doesn’t think it’s fair to the winter holidays to let summer have all the claim to frozen treated glory. I mean, winter has its own set of gems: warm gingerbread from the oven, the cup of hot chocolate that your mom makes for you when you’ve battled a storm of Frosty the Snowmen home from school. I’m making most of this stuff up. We don’t have snow where I’m from, but you see where I’m going with this. Winter has its perks, too.

So when I was in the kitchen whipping up these homemade ice cream batches for the August National Eat Dessert First Month Challenge I’m hosting here, it occurred to me that I should probably choose. And it seemed natural, considering that it’s the smack dab middle of summer right now, that I should choose ice cream.

So that was summer. Done.

No, not done! I love winter, too.

Winter it is.

No, summer.

No, I’m pretty sure it’s winter that’s her favorite. (At this point in the mental conversation, the voices in my head were referring to me in the third person.)

She likes summer best!

No, winter!

And so on and so forth. Imagine this going on for a good four or five minutes as I stood in the kitchen with my mixing spoon in hand with a fairly bemused look. I started thinking about whether I should just put on a Christmas soundtrack and forget about the whole thing, when it hit me.

Bam! Like a bus rammed into me. Probably because I was the person playing that annoying holiday music.

Why not have both?

And that’s how the recipe for cookie butter chunk ‘n swirl cinnamon ice cream was born. A hefty dose of Christmas-in-a-jar cookie butter swirled into a lightly spiced homemade vanilla ice cream, and topped with sweet cookie butter chunks. Genius.

I also made these into frozen ice cream sandwich bon-bons by adding graham cracker crusts and coating the whole shebam with chocolate. Shazam! Christmas-time in a summer style? Done.

As for the coffee dark chocolate chunk ice cream, I just like coffee flavors. Fun fact about Ala, though: I can’t drink coffee. I’ll get a massive headache for about 1.283 days and be a massive grouch. Boo.

Anyway, hope you all get a chance to make these–I’d love to hear how they turn out, or if you decide to try out any fun variations! I do have to say, though, that the cookie butter chunk ‘n swirl cinnamon ice cream was an instant hit–so don’t be scared away from trying it! Grab that cookie butter jar and go, go, go!

I’m off to play “Last Christmas” on my iPod now as I get a scoop of cookie butter ice cream. Oh, and if you’re wondering, there aren’t any bon-bons left–the girls at the book club gobbled them all up.

So sad.

Happy reading, and happy eatings!

For the recipe and photo-cipe: