1. beef stew
2. Candy Cane Joe-Joe's
Today I had this raw meat turned into a beef stew. For some reason or other I don't think I've ever actually made stew, which made me a little sad when I realized it, cause I love stew! Know why? My Pap-paw used to make stew. (And barbecued chicken, but that's for another day.) In the winter time cause he was a farmer and farmers work HARD during the spring and summer. But in the winter time? He'd hang out. And sometimes, sometimes he'd cook. He'd make up a big pot and then he and Mam-maw would can it so in the summer time, when he was in the fields until after dark, we'd still have stew. Cause it was so delicious you'd want to eat it all year 'round. He's long gone and I have no idea really what his recipe was and seriously, it's been years. Decades even. One thing I'm certain of is that it had corn so I added some in and pretended while I was eating that it tasted just like his and I double dog dare anyone to disagree. Talkin' to you Mom.
In other news we finally cracked open the last box of Candy Cane Joe-Joe's. Man do I love those things. Since I'm here I might as well tell you the Christmas horror story that nearly ended our love affair. See I kept seeing this recipe for "Oreo Truffles" on some of my favorite food blogs. Now admittedly I was skeptical. Crushed cookies and cream cheese smooshed together and dipped in melted chocolate. Just three things? How on earth would that taste like anything except crushed cookies and cream cheese smooshed together and dipped in melted chocolate? Well to hear folks tell it tasted somewhere inbetween angel tears and drunken sex with a stranger. Or something like that. Of course if I made them with Candy Cane Joe-Joe's....well, I just don't have the words. So.
I assembled the goods.
But hey! Why stop there? Go big or go home right? So multiply that times three. I take some to work! Send some to work with Him! Give them to the neighbors! Pass them out to carolers. Not that we have carolers. But anyway. Oh! I have a G R E A T idea. Those yummy mocha cookies from Fresh & Easy? I'll make some with those! Only with DARK chocolate. So I assembled more goods.
Times three.
Big plans I tell you, big plans! Of course I needed something to PUT them in. You know, to give away to all my family and friends and carolers and random passersby. Hmmmm. Wal-mart. Yep. Wal-mart. I went to Wal-mart the week before Christmas. WHEN I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO. Sorry, didn't mean to yell. Saw some little treat bags that weren't that cute but the coordinating gift tags? Bloomin' awesome. Ooooooh! Only 3 for a dollar too? I bought 30.
Times three.
The Boo and I finally got down to business and started making these little balls of cookie love. We crushed. We smooshed. We scooped. We rolled. We dipped. We sprinkled. And we repeated.
Times three.
Oh and we tasted along the way, but not too much. Cause ... they really didn't taste all that good. Of course they were too fresh. They needed time to ripen, to bloom, to reach their full cookie drunken love ball potential. So. We soldiered on. And eventually we ended up with at least a hundred little "truffles" (times three of course) and man were they gorgeous. Here's a money shot.
See? Aren't they beautiful? Yes. They were. And the taste? Like crushed cookies smooshed together with cream cheese and dipped in chocolate. In a word? Yuck.
Times three.
Internet? You let me down. I b e l i e v e d! My hands are BRUISED from clapping so hard. Symbolically, of course. But still! I won't even get into how this whole thing jeopardized the beautiful relationship between me and mah cookies. And I couldn't even off load them on all those non-existent carolers cause the damn things were too soft and gooey to pack in the little treat bags that I risked limb and sanity to buy. I took a platter of the stupid goo balls to work every day that week and sent several plates full home with Boy's unsuspecting friends but I just couldn't get rid of them all. Still have extraneous quantities of cream cheese and dark chocolate. Not to mention my beer fridge is still harboring a dozen of the damn things.
Times three.
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