Sometimes a Picture Says It All....

Screwed

Yeah, this image deftly captures my culinary misadventures today. And there's a great story to go along with the above image (which, if you can't discern, Gentle Reader, is a screw in the cork of a wine bottle), but you'll have to read the whole post to get to that story. So, Gentle Reader, suck it up and plow on!

Betty Crocker Is an Old Biddy and a Crock
My stockpile of desserts and treats is kaput, and I've been uninspired and unmotivated to replenish it. Last night, I told the husband that I'd probably spend some time this holiday (feh, holiday) weekend baking but needed him to sit down at my computer, go through the copious number of recipes I have bookmarked and select some. After some discussions of ingredient availability, he narrowed it down to Betty Crocker's coconut cherry bars.

I was up earlier than intended this morning, and I couldn't bring myself to just sit and enjoy more of the final book of King's Dark Tower saga, so I headed into the kitchen to whip up some coconut cherry bars before heading to the gym. I can do those things because I don't have an oven that take half an hour to preheat to a mere 350 degrees. Have I mentioned lately...

I Heart Lumpy!

Nothing too out of the ordinary occurred to the making of these bars, and while they were out of the oven in plenty of time for us to make it to the gym shortly before 9 to secure the boy a spot in the daycare, the bars.... Well, Betty Crocker is an old biddy and a total crock. I have no doubt that the visual presentation on the old bat's Web page for this recipe have no relationship to the actual end product. See for yourself, Gentle Reader:

Betty's Bars

The Faudie's Bars

And the husband was damn lucky to cut one from the pan that stayed in a reasonable bar form, for the topping was not very firm and easily oozed off the crust.

Coconut Cherry Bars1 C all-purpose flour
1/2 C butter or margarine, softened
3 T powdered sugar
2 eggs
1 C granulated sugar
3/4 C chopped nuts
1/2 C flaked coconut
1/2 C chopped maraschino cherries, drained
1/4 C all-purpose flour
1/2 t baking powder
1/4 t NaCl
1 t vanilla

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease an 8- or 9-inch square pan.
   
2. In a medium bowl, mix 1 cup of flour, the butter and powdered sugar with spoon until flour is moistened. Press the mixture in pan, then bake for 10 minutes.
   
3. In a second medium bowl, beat the eggs. Stir in the remaining ingredients, then spread the mixture over the baked layer.
   
4. Bake 25 to 30 minutes or until golden brown, then let cool completely (about 30 minutes). For bars, cut into 6 rows by 5 rows.

Nutritional Info
Calories: 110
Fat: 6 g
Saturated fat: 2 g
Cholesterol: 20 mg
Na:55 mg
Carbs: 14 g
Protein: 1 g

The Faudie's Futzings

• I used white whole wheat flour instead of all-purpose. I didn't even bother doing the half white whole wheat/half whole wheat thing. I had places to go, miles to run after all.
  
• I used good 'ol fat-free butter that wasn't softened because the stuff is pretty ooey-gooey to begin with. Was I worried about the added moisture? Not terribly since I was using a whole wheat flour, which tends to be a bit dryer.
  
• I used egg whites from a carton instead of eggs, even though I have eggs, believe it or not, Gentle Reader. Would the yolks have made a difference? Perhaps, but I'm no egg expert. I did beat them using the whisk beater for my handheld mixer until they were just a bit fluffy on top. Did that screw me over? Perhaps, but, again, I'm not egg expert.
  
• No granulated sugar here! Only Clabber Girl Sugar Replacer. I really wish that stuff weren't so powdery! I suspect granulated sugar might have helped the topping thicken better.
  
• I had no maraschino cherries, but I did have a can of light cherry pie filling that I'd bought for another dessert bar recipe the husband wants me to make. I didn't drain the goop away because I hoped it would give the bars a bit more cherry flavor. And yes, Gentle Reader, I realize including the goop is probably the biggest culprit in the topping ooey-gooeyness fiasco.
  
• The coconut is of an indeterminate age, but it didn't seem overly dry. Perhaps it should have been dryer so that it could have then absorbed some of the excess moisture. (Wishful thinking, I know.)
  
• Because I'm lazy and so is the husband, we dug out a package of chopped mixed nuts (about two-thirds of a cup) and made up the rest from a bag of chopped walnuts. We had pecans, but I'm not a big pecan fan. I know, I know--that's blasphemous in this part of the country.

After 25 minutes of baking, the pan of bars came out looking more like a frosted German chocolate cake than coconut cherry bars:

Mea culpa: I let the husband cut into them after only five minutes--if that--of cooling. The bars were, after all, what he'd requested, and I thought he ought to be able to taste them before heading off for two hours of torture (for me, bliss for me) at the gym. Despite the corner piece losing a bit of its topping and being roof-of-the-mouth-scorching hot, he loved them. Me? Eh, I'll pass.

Charles Kimball Is a New England Fuddy Duddy and a Crock
Okay, okay, I really don't mean that. I just feel so inept after screwing up a recipe from America's Test Kitchen. I'm not sure what I did wrong, but at least supper tonight, Pasta with Chicken, Broccoli, and Sun-dried Tomatoes sans Sun-dried Tomatoes, was edible. Hell, it was beyond edible since the boy asked for thirds.

Preparing this dish took much longer than expected thanks to an alcohol problem. No, really. I'm not lying to you, Gentle Reader. More on that in a moment. I also had problems with the other ingredients, such as having to chop an onion quickly because the 'fridge has swallowed the butter tub of chopped onion I'd prepared earlier this week; chopping fresh thyme is a ridiculous task since thyme leaves are iddy biddy to begin with; and I almost forgot the damn flour.

My frustration came with preparing the sauce. I failed to brown the flour along with the garlic, onions and red pepper flake, so perhaps that's how my sauce wound up screwed. No, I added it when I poured in the fat-free low-Na chicken broth and, after much culinary drama, the wine.

Yes, Gentle Reader, you read that right. Wine. I actually bought wine. Walked into HEB after picking up my race packet, happened upon a booze guy stocking shelves and asked him if he could recommend a dry white wine for cooking.

HEB booze guy: Sure, I can show you a few options. How much are you looking to spend?
Me: As little as possible. Sorry.
HEB booze guy: No problem. Now, are you going to drink it as well as cook with it?
Me: Nope. Sorry.
HEB booze guy: Not a problem. Here's this ::pointing to a chardonnay, I think:: that's only $6.50 a bottle. Or.... ::walks off to another aisle for a moment then reappears with a bottle in hand:: This one's six bucks a bottle.
Me: Six bucks works for me! Thanks!

So now I have wine in my refrigerator. It's shoved in the back and will surely be frozen by morning. Anyone want to swing by Chez Boeckman-Walker for a Sunday morning chardonnay slushie?

But the acquisition of the wine by this wino-phobe was not the drama. No, it was in getting the damn bottle open. What? You really expect tee-totalers to have a corkscrew in their domicile?

Ahh, but the husband declared he could get the bottle open with a knife. Which frightened me because I know the husband: he's not exactly the most sure-handed of people (i.e., he's a bit of a klutz and is known for dropping things). Thankfully, his attempt with a knife was short and fruitless. So then he announces he has just the solution:

Me: Cordless drill?
The husband: Cordless drill.

Of course, said cordless drill's battery was sapped. So while I'm trying desperately to get the sauce to cook while it waited for its final ingredient, the husband's trying to drill the cork out of the bottle by running the drill from the power adapter. That wasn't working so well, so he moved on to solution #2.

"What was solution #2?" you ask, Gentle Reader?

Inserting a screw into the cork and then using a human-powered screwdriver to remove it and the cork into which he inserted it. Yeah, you guessed it, Gentle Reader: Solution #2 worked about as brilliantly as asking the boy not to ask any Star Wars questions for a day.

Undaunted, the husband moved on to solution #3: Using brute (feh) strength and a fancy pair of pliers to yank the screw and the cork into which it was inserted out of the damn bottle. And that solution did work, although I was certain I'd end up with a husband with a broken nose (from slamming his elbow into it once the cork came free) and a bottle of wine shattered on the ceramic tile floor of the kitchen.

Okay, I'm a shitty storyteller. Just see the pictures for yourself:

The sauce never did thicken. I wound up pouring it in its thin soupy glory over the broccoli and pasta. But no one complained too much. The chicken had absorbed some of the flavor, and the pasta and broccoli were tossed in it enough to pick up the flavor too. And once you sprinkled a little cheese (we used fat-free mozzarella instead of Asiago because I'm a cheap bastard) on it, it's all good.

A Tasty Disaster

If you want to try this meal for yourself, here's the recipe:

Pasta With Chicken, Broccoli and Sun-Dried Tomatoes4 T unsalted butter
1 lb. boneless, skinless chicken breasts , trimmed of fat and cut crosswise into 1/4-inch slices
1 small onion, chopped fine (about 2/3 C)
Table NaCl
6 medium cloves garlic, minced or pressed through garlic press (about 2 T)
1/4 t red pepper flakes
2 t chopped fresh thyme leaves
2 t all-purpose flour
1 C dry white wine
2 C low-sodium chicken broth
1 bunch broccoli (about 1 1/2 lb.), florets trimmed into 1-inch pieces (about 6 C), stems discarded
1/2 lb. penne pasta (ziti, cavatappi or campanelle)
2 oz. grated Asiago cheese (1 C), plus extra for serving
1 jar oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes (7 to 8 1/2 oz.), rinsed, patted dry and cut into 1/4-inch strips (about 1 C)
1 T minced fresh parsley leaves
Ground black pepper
1 lemon, cut into wedges (optional)

1. Bring 4 quarts of water to a rolling boil, covered, in a stockpot.
   
2. Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of butter in a 12-inch nonstick skillet over high heat until just beginning to brown (about 1 min.). Add the chicken in single layer; cook for 1 minute without stirring, then stir chicken and continue to cook until most, but not all, of pink color has disappeared and the chicken is lightly browned around the edges (about 2 min. longer). Transfer the chicken to a clean bowl; set aside.
   
3. Return the skillet to high heat and add 1 tablespoon of butter; add the onion and 1/4 teaspoon of NaCl then cook, stirring occasionally, until browned about edges (2-3 min.). Stir in garlic, red pepper flakes, thyme and flour; cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant (about 30 sec.). Add the wine and chicken broth; bring to a simmer, then reduce heat to medium and continue to simmer, stirring occasionally, until the sauce has thickened slightly and reduced to 1 1/4 cups (about 15 min.).
   
4. While the sauce simmers, add 1 tablespoon of NaCl and broccoli to the boiling water; cook until the broccoli is tender but still crisp at center (about 2 min.). Using a slotted spoon, transfer the broccoli to a large paper towel-lined plate. Return the water to a boil; stir in the pasta and cook until al dente. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup pasta cooking water; return pasta to pot.
   
5. Stir the remaining 2 tablespoons butter along with the Asiago, sun-dried tomatoes, parsley and chicken into the sauce in the skillet; cook until the chicken is hot and cooked through (about 1 min.). Remove the heat, then season to taste with pepper. Pour the chicken sauce mixture over the pasta then add the broccoli; toss gently to combine, adding pasta cooking water as needed to adjust the sauce consistency. Serve immediately, passing additional Asiago and the lemon wedges (if using) separately.

Serves 4 (4 very large servings, take it from me)

The Faudie's Futzings

• I used olive oil--maybe a teaspoon--when I browned the chicken then added another teaspoon, maybe a teaspoon and a half before browning the onion and garlic. I didn't add any butter to the sauce whatsoever.
  
• Instead of all-purpose flour, I used white whole wheat. Again, I failed to brown it, so that might have screwed up the sauce.
  
• I didn't put any cheese into the dish before serving it. A cup is a lot of cheese, even if it is fat-free stuff. Also, the boys sprinkled a little Parmesan on their servings, so there's an option.
  
• I didn't opt for the lemon. I'm not sure what counterpoint it might serve to the dish, and I just didn't have time to slice up a lemon (and I do actually have one).

As I noted throughout this section, the sauce's shortcoming is totally my fault. I just haven't had any luck ever get a sauce that's not tomato-based to thicken. I don't know what I do wrong.

And yes, Gentle Reader...

I Still Heart Christopher Kimball