Sky-High Milk Chocolate Bark

The Setting: A beautiful Dallas day in need of doughnuts. Then again, what day isn't?

The Soundtrack: Lovely little snores from my precious munchkin.

Steaming up the Oven: Tennessee Tea-Cakes for WITK's online bake sale. Hope they're as tasty when they get to their bidder as they smell in my kitchen right now!

The Scenario: Chocoholic? Keep a bag of this addictive candy stashed in the cupboard for all of your late-night/early-morning/midday snacking needs.

I first conceived of this chocolate bark after scarfing down some scraps of re-hardened chocolate and wayward honey-roasted peanuts I'd saved from the aftermath of my foray into Homemade GooGoo Cluster-making.

Emptying the bag-o-scraps into my mouth with a little tap and shake to make sure every last salty-sweet morsel made it down the shoot, I thought, how could I take this choco-peanut frenzy to the next level?

To play up the saltiness, pretzels seemed a good and logical conclusion.

But on the sweeter side, I craved a little more complexity....

I craved the crispy caramelized crunch of the one and only Biscoff cookie.

Storming the aisles of every supermarket in the greater South Bend area, I scanned the shelves for my must-have item to no avail.

Unwilling to concede defeat, I turned my sights to the Internet.

There I found a bounty of Biscoff goodness to fulfill my chocolate-covered dreams.

I only needed a quarter-package or so to turn my recipe into reality, but the unit-cost of a solitary package was a wee bit high.

Hoosband, wise numbers-man and Biscoff fan that he is, insisted I go for the much, much larger multi-pack instead, as it would simply be the rational and economical thing to do.

Not one to argue with solid logic (or tasty cookies), I now posses enough Biscoff cookies to satisfy a fully-booked international flight from liftoff to touchdown.

You won't see a lot of the cookies in my cooking this summer, but watch out for back-to-school: Fall is officially Biscoff season.

Sky-High Milk Chocolate Bark
Why Sky-High? The working title of this recipe was Salty Dog Chocolate Bark (because it was savory-sweet and I liked the sound of it). Testing the recipe, however, I realized all of the add-ins were snacks frequently served to riders of the friendly skies, so I changed the name to reflect this new revelation. The bark is visually taller and texturally airier than most, both of which work with the name as well. Also...I'm not advocating the use of any questionably legal substances...but I imagine a batch of this bark would satisfy even the most raging cases of the munchies--that is, of course, when it is not inducing them.

12 oz milk chocolate chips, divided
1/2 cup coarsely chopped honey-roasted peanuts, divided
1/4 cup coarsely chopped pretzels, including any stray crumbs and/or salt
1/4 cup coarsely chopped Biscoff cookies, including any stray crumbs

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Place 5 oz of the chocolate in a microwave-safe dish and microwave for 30-second intervals, stirring for at least 20 seconds between each, until the chocolate is melted.

Spread the melted chocolate out on the parchment to a thickness of about 1/8 inch.

Evenly sprinkle the melted chocolate with 1/4 cup of the peanuts and all of the pretzel and cookie pieces.

Press gently on the toppings with your hands just to help them stick into the chocolate.

Melt the remaining 7 oz of chocolate the same way as before. Heavily drizzle the chocolate back and forth over the entire surface of your bark so that it will be easier to spread out without dragging the toppings along for the ride.

Gently spread out the chocolate over the top and sides so that all the toppings are sealed in.

Evenly sprinkle the remaining peanuts over the top and place in the fridge or freezer just till set (if your kitchen is cool and dry, it will set at room temperature; it will just take longer).

Once completely set, break into pieces and enjoy!

Bark may be stored in a sealed plastic bag or airtight container for up to one week.

Thanks for reading! Here's to Being the Secret Ingredient in your life.

Bing Cherry Buckle

The Setting: A February Saturday night.

The Soundtrack: The Outlaw Josey Wales.

Steaming up the Oven: Bing Cherry Buckle.

The Scenario: Sometimes a cold winter night demands something sweet, warm, and comforting. Tonight I'm lucky to have three such things: Oia, Hoosband, and one of the easiest desserts you'll ever make.

I've written before about buckles (Peach Cobbuckle, Aug. 16, 2011), and if you happened to read that post before today, I sincerely apologize, as I just discovered a major omission (cake should contain some sugar, don't you think?). It's all fixed now though, so please pursue that recipe (and this one) with confidence.

One of my all-time favorite desserts, buckles are what I grew up calling cobblers and what some people call dump cakes (although that name tends to refer more specifically to the ones made with cake mix and canned fruit because all the ingredients are literally dumped right into the pan), but the main thing you'll be calling it is good.

The purple-red cherries make this a beautiful dessert to conclude a Valentine's Day dinner, and the ease with which it can be thrown together will leave you plenty of time for primping and perfecting your romantic rendezvous.

Bing Cherry Buckle
1 lb frozen, pitted Bing cherries
1 1/3 cups sugar, divided
dash ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp pure almond extract
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp plus a pinch kosher salt, divided
1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 cup milk (skim is fine)

In a medium-sized bowl toss together frozen cherries, 2/3 cup sugar, cinnamon, both extracts, and a pinch salt. Stir thoroughly to distribute ingredients and wet the sugar as much as possible. Cover with plastic wrap and let thaw at room temperature for about 30 minutes (the cherries will still be mostly frozen).

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Place butter in a 9"x13" baking pan and set the pan in the oven until the butter is melted (about 5 minutes).

In another bowl whisk together flour, baking powder, 1/2 tsp salt and remaining 2/3 cup sugar. Add milk, stirring just enough to wet all the dry ingredients.

Pour flour mixture over melted butter without mixing. Give cherry mixture a final stir and distribute evenly over flour mixture without mixing (the batter will rise up to the top as it bakes). Bake at 350 for 40 minutes or till light golden, bubbly, and not too jiggly in the center (will take a little longer in a glass or Pyrex pan than in a metal pan). Serve immediately with Chantilly Cream or your favorite vanilla ice cream.

Thanks for reading! Here's to Being the Secret Ingredient in your life.

Tricks and Treats

The Setting: Game Day in South Bend. Pumpkin-carving day at the playground. The smell of charcoal in the air; a patchwork of leaves on the ground.

The Soundtrack: The Notre Dame -v- Navy game on TV.

Steaming up the (once again, microwave) Oven: (what will be) Homemade Butterfingers. Yes, you read that right.

The Scenario: Fresh from Oia's first pumpkin carving, we skip the stadium and prepare some tricks and treats for tomorrow's Halloween festivities.

Here's a crazy trick for you:

Combine equal parts (by weight) melted candy corn (yes, candy corn) and creamy peanut butter, let harden in a parchment-paper-lined pan, cut into pieces, and coat with melted milk chocolate. Voila, homemade butterfingers.

Yes, it is crazy, yes, it works, and no, I am not the genius who came up with it.

For me, part of the joy of recreating childhood treats is finding a way to make them all-natural and completely from scratch.

I try to avoid artificial colors and flavors (and candy in general most of the time), but when I saw this evil recipe on Pinterest (my devilish new addiction, www.pinterest.com) I had no choice.

One minute I’m pondering the possibilities of keeping my daughter’s future Halloweens artificial-ingredient free without depriving her of the joys of trick-or-treating, and the next minute I’m running to the store to stock up on neon-colored candies.

I don’t know who came up with this originally—I tried to find out, scouring the Internet (well, a brief but well-intending scour) to give proper credit. I found references dating back as far as 2005 to a post on some Taste of Home forum (http://www.tasteofhome.com/, I believe), but I could not find the post itself.

The source of the current viral click-a-thon seems to be http://www.plainchicken.com/2010/11/homemade-butterfingers.html. So, Plain Chicken, I blame you.

I blame you for your easy-to-follow instructions, your enticing photo, and your prolific Pinterest presence.

These slightly-softer-and-chewier-than-the-real-thing betterfingers are way too tasty to take to the Halloween party for which I was making them—not that I do not wish to share…it’s just that I fear there will be none left by party time tomorrow.

I plan instead to take meringue ghosts, a simple treat that has served me well in the past.

We’ll see how it goes.

On...and off...the Road Again

The Setting: A hovel of a whole 'nother sort.

The Soundtrack: My daughter's adorable snoring.

Steaming up the Oven: Peach Cobbuckle.

The Scenario: With South Florida in somebody else's taillights, I'm setting up house in the land of corn.

Wow. It's been a while. To get you up to speed, let's play a little game called "In the last two months."

In the last two months I...

...gave birth to my incredible daughter, Oia.

...packed up our apartment.

...quit my job,

...and...

...moved across the country.

All of this, actually, went down over a span of about two weeks. The few weeks before and after were dedicated, as much as expectant- and new-motherly possible, to sleep.

It's been a bit of a tailspin, butcha gotta do whatcha gotta do.


I hated leaving my job.

But Hoosband's two-year commitment in Miami was up, and with a full-ride-plus-living-stipend offer on the table from a top school up north and nothing promising on the sunny, South Florida horizon, I'd never be able to work enough hours to justify staying.

And looking at my precious baby now, I wouldn't want to.

I thought I'd never go into labor.

A couple of weeks before my expected delivery date, my doctor said I looked so ready to pop I might not even leave the office that day before I gave birth.

Two visits later I was a day past my due date and praying the baby would come out before she got too big to deliver (I'm a pipsqueak 5'1" to Hoosband's burly 6'1", so yes, I was afraid).

To my delight, my doctor said we could induce that day if we desired.

We desired.

My contractions were hitting high peaks on the monitor from the first drop of Pitocin, but I felt nothing.

Hoosband thought I might be one of the lucky ones who feels little pain during labor. I knew better.

As soon as the doctor broke my water, my dreams of a drug-free childbirth were hanging out on a farm somewhere with my childhood pets who peaced-out long ago.

The following several hours were some of the most simultaneously horrifying and gratifying of my life.

The Stadol I took made me loopy--literally--and a bit paranoid. I remember feeling like I was riding a carousel of consciousness, physically going around in circles, always just about to get off before the loop swept me around again. Hoosband had his computer out at one point, and I could just make out its black, rectangular figure as the carousel neared the real world.

I guess I found it offensive.

"Bad computer," I managed to say, as I willed my finger to point accusingly in its direction. Hoosband, supportive coach that he was, shut it down and stowed it away, no questions asked...that I was aware of.

By the time I dismounted from the Stadol carousel, the contractions were still taking me for a ride. It was time for an epidural.

Right as the anesthesiologist was being summoned to my room, an emergency C-section called her away, and my peace was put on hold.

An hour later, however, I was sinking slowly into slumberland, and happy to be there.

Unfortunately, the epidural slowed my contractions too much, and the Pitocin drip which had been off for several hours had to be re-initiated.

I worried an emergency C-section could be in my future as well.

When the nurse came in to tell me we would start pushing soon, I was beyond elated...and incredibly intimidated by the visions of silver-screen labors dancing through my head.

It was 3 a.m.

At 3:16 I held my daughter for the first time.

Watching her drift in and out of dreams (of eating, I am positive) as I type, I can't wait to hold her (and make her dreams come true) as soon as I hit save.

As for my dreams, right now they are to make my new apartment feel like home. Since unpacking and setting up house can only occur between feedings, burpings, changings, and mommy's naps, we must turn to food.

And nothing says home like peach cobbler, right?

I admit I'm a bit of a cobbler snob. I jump at any chance to eat peach cobbler at a restaurant, potluck, or dinner party, but I'm often disappointed.

A can of peaches topped with a flavorless and textureless pie crust will not do it for me. Neither, I regret to say, will a rusticly appealing but generally dense and pasty biscuit topping dropped haphazardly over the top of the fruit filling.

After years of clamoring for cobbler and sighing with regret when I took spoon to mouth, I've discovered that the kind of cobbler I crave is in fact a buckle, or a cake-like topping that rises though the fruit to the top during cooking, creating a "buckled" appearance. It is incredibly easy to make, and even easier to inhale.

So buckle up 'cause you don't have to buckle down to make this Peach Cobbuckle...but you might have to unbuckle your pants when your done.

....I know...I'm a mondo nerd....

Peach Cobbuckle
I find that one fresh peach, thinly sliced with the skin on, brings the taste and allure of fresh to the ease of pre-sliced frozen, but you can definitely go all-fresh or all-frozen if your prefer. Canned peaches tend to bear little if any resemblance in taste, texture, or visual appeal to actual peaches, so use only if you prefer canned peaches to the real thing.


1 lb frozen peaches, thawed at room temp for 30 min
1 fresh peach, thinly sliced, skin on
1 1/3 cups light brown sugar, divided
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp plus a pinch salt, divided
1 stick (1/2 cup unsalted butter)
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 cup milk

1. In a large bowl toss together peaches, 2/3 cup brown sugar, cinnamon, cardamom, and a pinch salt. Cover with plastic wrap and let the mixture marry at room temp for about an hour.

2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Place butter in a 9"x13" baking dish and place in oven until melted.

3. In another bowl whisk together flour, baking powder, 1/2 tsp salt and remaining brown sugar. Add milk, stirring till just mixed.

4. Pour flour mixture over melted butter but do not combine. Give peach mixture a final stir and pour right over flour mixture. Pop into the oven and bake at 350 for 40 minutes or till light golden and bubbly. Serve with your favorite vanilla ice cream.