On Family, and Fruit Dip

I had the good fortune of being raised not just by my momma & daddy, but also by aunts, cousins, and grandparents. It, in fact, did take a village to raise me and my brother, and from all accounts I've heard (and the clips of VHS home movies I've witnessed) I was just about too much for one person to handle for any extended period of time. I was a good kid, but I tend to think that once my little personality started to develop, my family stood back and thought, "where'd she come from? And just what exactly are we supposed to do with her?" as I literally ran in circles in the backyard (probably wearing a Mary Lou Retton leotard) having *serious* conversations with my imaginary friends. Let's face it - I've always been kind of weird. Either way, my family has for the most part accepted me for who I was - even if they disagreed with my decisions or wanted (or even prayed, don't get me started) for me to take different turns as the roads of life started to fork off in all kinds of different directions.

I've realized, however, that the process of "being raised" certainly doesn't end when you turn 18. After I moved away, my friends took over responsibility for that process, and at every new city, new school, or new adventure, my friends have become my family. How very blessed and lucky I am to have somehow managed to meet and befriend the absolute coolest people on the planet. Unfortunately, it's also what makes moving on and changing so difficult. While I know that my family will pretty much always live within a 10 mile radius of each other, somewhere in the western/central corner of Limestone County, Alabama, and it'll be relatively easy to go back and see them whenever I want, my friend-family continues to spread out, grow, and change. Friend-families are special because they are very time and location sensitive. For example. I can easily go back to Florence or Auburn, two places I've lived that are very close to my heart. I know how to get there. But it's not the same as it used to be, because Allison, Nisey, KiKi and KB won't be sitting at the picnic table outside Powers Hall to distract me from working and convince me to go to the Kappa Sig house instead. And even if I do go back to the Supper Club, and even if I was with Loren, Lindsey, Lex, and Anne, and it was in the middle of the night after we'd gotten tired of Bodega, the chance that we'd run into the boys we chased or students we tried to avoid is slim to none. Some of us are no longer interested in chasing boys anyway. But we'd certainly be excellent wing-women for those in the group who are... Sorry, Bon Jovi, but I say it's nearly impossible to go home.

I'm sentimental about leaving Kentucky. Can you tell? It happens. I've been through this before. And it never really gets any easier. I am fully aware that I have attachment issues, with both people and places. It's really strange this time because I've spent *so* little time here, really. I'm transient. I've lived my life in A-50, and on I-75. I'm rarely here on the weekends, and haven't fully adopted a life here. But then again I have, and that life is the collective group of friends I've made. It'd probably be less emotionally draining if I'd just stayed in one place my entire life. But then, I think about the people that I love, that I call family, that have made me a better person, that I never, ever in a million years would have met otherwise, and I know that it's worth the emotion. I know that I'll remember days like today, Easter, when we had a potluck lunch after church. It felt just like being home at my grandmother's house - just without the porch and same people. That feeling of love, belonging, and support was definitely there, as it always is when I'm with anyone I consider family. We have a shared history - both my friend-family and real family - and both families have been instrumental in helping me figure out who I am. That's what a family is all about - no blood bond necessary.

Family is also about sharing recipes. This one is my mom's fruit dip, that I love. It's simple and delicious. I made it last night, and Bob, Mitch and I devoured it and the fruit I had so cutely placed on a little Auburn platter. For some reason Mitch kept making fun of Bob using toothpicks to eat the fruit... maybe it was just the beer. Here is:

Best Fruit Dip Ever
1 jar marshmallow cream
1 8-oz package 1/3 less fat cream cheese
splash of lemon juice or pineapple juice

Combine all ingredients together with a hand-held mixer, fork, or food processor. Chill for one hour, and serve with strawberries, grapes, pineapples, or apples.

Trust me, it's way better than any of the pre-made fruit dip out there, and it makes a ton. Great for your summer gatherings with friends, families, and friend-families.

Anne's Smoothie

I know that Veganne already has her own smoothie recipe. But, when I made this today, I thought of her, for two reasons: 1. soy milk and 2. cinnamon.

I have been loving the 8th Continent Light Vanilla Soy Milk that I purchased in honor of her visit back during the Charleston weekend. You might even say that I crave it occasionally. It has magical powers - I transformed plain ol' wheat Chex to something that tasted like Cinnamon Toast Crunch, using soy milk and a good sprinkle of cinnamon on top (seriously, it was amazing, and much healthier than the real kid's cereal). Anne's a big proponent of cinnamon, too, as apparently it as a ton of health benefits, all of which she can tell you about but I can't remember off the top of my head. Suffice it to say that we need to be adding cinnamon to everything possible. I even have an idea for a cinnamon campaign slogan: "Cinnamon: When Broccoli Just Won't Do."

I have a whole bunch of leftover fruit from our Rock Band party on Saturday. I intend to transform the apples into some sort of caramel apple tart, have been tossing grapes in my yogurt, smearing Nutella on my bananas, and have been nibbling on the fresh pineapple, but I worry it's going to spoil before I can eat it all. Dave actually goes to work every day (novel thought) and isn't here to help me snack on it, so it's all up to me. In an effort to use up some of it, I created a smoothie, and I think Anne would approve of this recipe.

Anne's Smoothie
1 small container Yoplait light strawberry yogurt
about 1/2 cup vanilla soy milk (see above for brand)
1 banana
handful of pineapple chunks
cinnamon and honey, for garnish

Combine yogurt, milk, banana, and pineapple in a blender until well incorporated. Pour into a glass, top with cinnamon and honey. Enjoy!

This will give me energy to finish a section of my proposal as well as go to the gym later this afternoon. It is a tasty summer treat, and would probably benefit from the addition of a few ice cubs to make it even colder and refreshing. It's not an overly sweet smoothie; I'd venture to call it a savory smoothie, so if you like a whole lot of sweetness, maybe add in some honey before you blend it all together. There's a good deal of fiber in the drink, and it makes a large portion, so it's very filling and satisfying.

Pound Cake with Ice Cream and Blueberry Sauce

Here is a delightful little summer dessert.

Coincidentally, do you know how I remember that there are two s's in "dessert," subsequently never confusing it with "desert?" Just remember that you always have apple pie and ice cream. 2 things for dessert - 2 s's. It's one of the same devices that Mrs. Hagood (who wasn't even my teacher but taught my aunts Sherry & Leia and my mom and my dad) drilled into the brains of my loved ones who then passed it along to me. I also remember the day that Sherry, Leia and mom taught me how to never misspell "separate:" There's always a rat in separate. See it? No i or e misplacement in that word, ever, thanks to that little device. I was a dork even as a small child; I just wish that there was some sort of device I'd picked up along the way that instructed me how to write a dissertation proposal in, like, 15 minutes. That'd be really helpful about now.

Back to dessert. I made another pound cake (and the Swan's Down cake flour pound cake as shown in this post is simply divine, baked in the high quality Nordic ware bundt pan my mom got me for Christmas this year), and topped it with a scoop of Blue Bell Homemade Ice Cream (or the vanilla-ish ice cream of your choice) and this homemade sauce:

about 1/2 pint fresh blueberries, washed, stems removed
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup sugar
1 Tablespoon orange liquor
2 Tablespoons orange juice
and the zest of an orange, if you have one laying around
or substitute orange for lemon
or just leave it out all together, really the blueberries and sugar and water are the main ingredients

In a heavy saucepan over medium-high heat, boil blueberries with water and sugar (and other ingredients) until the berries start to burst, the water turns dark blue, and it becomes somewhat congealed, anywhere from 15-30 minutes. Remove from heat, allow to cool.

What a simple yet delicious sauce that goes on top of ice cream by itself, pound cake by itself, or biscuits, or pancakes. It's a variation of the cranberry sauce I make for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Blueberries happened to be not quite as expensive as a gallon of gas at Publix a few weeks ago, so I splurged, got a pint, and have been enjoying them in this form for some time. It lasts for several days in an air-tight container in the fridge.

Drunken Strawberry Shortcake

Man, I love HDTV. I am being totally spoiled this week by my techie boyfriend's sweet home theater setup. Where I have a passion for food, he has a passion for cables. Gadgets. New technology. At first, I didn't understand and rejected his assertion that we needed a large flatscreen samsung something or other, but now, as I sit here watching American Idol in high def, I can criticize no more. High def rocks! I really was hooked after Christmas break, because there is very little in life that's better than blu-ray Naveen Andrews.

Very little indeed, except, perhaps, this new dessert I just invented. I served it in martini glasses, and you should too. Here is:

Drunken Strawberry Shortcake
2 slices homemade pound cake (see my previous post; it's amazing)
1 shot Godiva liquor
1/2 cup whipping cream
scant 1/4 cup powdered sugar
3 oz mascarpone cheese, at room temperature
sliced strawberries (I used 4-5 large ones)
chocolate shavings for garnish (this totally justifies my keeping half-used chocolate bars in the freezer)

First, whip cream with hand mixer until almost at stiff peaks. Add in the powdered sugar, and whip until stiff peaks form. Gently fold in the mascarpone cheese, set aside. Wash and slice strawberries. Retrieve martini glasses for serving (or any clear glass will work). Break the pound cake slices in half (or tear them to fit your glass) and soak the pound cake slices in Godiva. Layer the dessert as follows: Godiva-soaked pound cake, whipped cream mixture, strawberries, and repeat for one more layer. Top with chocolate shavings for extra beautiful presentation. Take a spoon and dig in.

This was a remix of the limoncello tiramisu I made last night, that was good, but this was better. Now, don't get me wrong, I love limoncello and homemade lemon curd as much as the next girl, but there is just something sentimental, warm, and comforting about a strawberry shortcake. It was my favorite dessert growing up, and I remember when my mom switched from those nasty cardboard-flavored discs and strawberry glaze with the consistency of motor oil to angel food cake, sugar-coated strawberries and cool whip. I was hooked! My new, grown-up version is classy enough to impress a first date, or just enjoy with your sweetie. Or by yourself. Or while watching Sayid fight his way through the jungle. Whatever. It's really good, and the addition of mascarpone takes it to the next level. It's one of those "worth the splurge" purchases; sometimes you can catch it on sale for $4/half pound, but I usually pay about $5 for the same amount. What do you do with the rest of it? Try not to eat it all by itself with a spoon. Or, make it into a fruit dip with vanilla extract and 1/2 cup powdered sugar.