…when you agree not to exchange Christmas gifts, but still want to get your sweetheart a little holiday present.
…when you want to give something small, something practical and something you’ll both be able to enjoy.
…when you were pretty similar to begin with, and then you spend every day together for five straight months living in 160 square feet of space.
You give each other the exact same gift.
I don’t know about you, but the holidays just aren’t the holidays unless until I’m messing around with pounds of butter and sugar. Cooking a batch of this rich toffee makes me feel like one of Santa’s jolly elves.
Classic Toffee
1 C butter
1 C sugar
¼ C water
1 C chocolate chips
½ C chopped pecans
Sea Salt
In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine butter, sugar and water. Cook over medium-low heat and stir stir stir until it reaches hard-crack stage (300°). This will take about 15 minutes.
Pour toffee onto an ungreased cookie sheet. Let set for a minute. Sprinkle chocolate chips over the warm toffee. Allow the chips to soften, then use an offset spatula (or the back of a large spoon) to spread the chocolate into an even layer. Sprinkle nuts over the chocolate. Add a dusting of sea salt.
Allow the toffee to cool completely. Break into pieces. Store in a hard-to-open container on a high shelf so you can’t mindlessly eat it all in a single sitting. Or, package and give away immediately. Don’t even bother trying some toffee with your morning coffee; I already tested that and it’s a terrible combination.
I’d like to type while we’re driving, but it makes me carsick, so I just sit in the passenger seat, watching raindrops dance on the windshield, thinking up sentences that never make it to a page. The radio is tuned to a folk station. Beneath us the grey-black asphalt rumbles as we speed through little towns with little populations. Towns like Dale, Indiana, where I filled my belly with pancakes at Windell’s, which is closing on Sunday after serving families and church groups and Kiwanis Clubs since 1947. The cab of the RV is soothing with the heat on full-blast and the slap of the wipers setting a beat for harmonies between the radio and the hum of the pavement. I’m drowsy. Alongside the road, the Ohio River strains at its banks like a fat belly against a belt.
Maybe I’m a little homesick. Maybe I need a nap or a beer or a cozy new sweater. Maybe it’s just the rain, but I’ve got this bluesy feeling and I’m worrying my Big Stuff Worries, wondering what happens when this trip ends, where we’ll live, what I’ll do, what comes next. I pop these thoughts in my mouth like a cinnamon hard candy to roll around on my tongue. I tuck them into the softness of my cheek where I taste them every time I inhale. Everything I say comes out laced with Big Stuff worries, the scent of cinnamon behind all my words. The river outside pulses and threatens to overflow.
All the state parks belong to us now. In wide river bottoms and beside hardwood-rimmed lakes hundreds of empty campsites line up in neat loops, saving space for the summer crowds, the weekend boaters and the suntanned shouting kids. The bathhouses may be locked and picnic tables turned over against impending snow, but these places are ours alone. We walk slick trails in the company of cardinals and white-tailed deer. Even now, slender roots are pushing down through the earth, small are buds forming beneath a thick layer of fallen leaves. The woods exhale a rush of wind.
If I’ve ever made you breakfast, chances are you’ve eaten Oven Puffed Pancake. It’s been my signature morning dish for, oh, the past two decades or so. It’s from James McNair’s Breakfast, first published in 1987. My memory is a bit fuzzy, but I believe my dad and I bought this, along with a blue teapot, for my mom’s birthday. Family? Is that correct?
I loved this book.
All the recipes seemed sophisticated and refined, inspired by far-away places like France or New Orleans. Continue reading
I was sitting in the Shaved Duck, a little BBQ gastropub in St. Louis, when suddenly, for the first time this trip, I felt Far Away.
Was it the brick buildings? The old industrial big city feel? The obvious fact we were so close to the Mississippi? Our two-week stretch in Kansas – where we stayed with Patrick’s friends and family and explored his hometown – was the bridge that connected The West to The East, and now we are really far from home.
St. Louis was fantastic. Who knew? We planned to pass on through, but ended up staying for two nights. Cities can be tricky for budget RV travelers – it’s hard to park, campsites are far from any cool neighborhoods and, above all, cities are expensive. Not so in St. Louis, which boasts an impressive list of free activities, from tours to museums to the zoo. We also found a great little RV park right downtown, delicious food & drink and explored an incredibly unique art space. Grand total? Less than $100.
We were awed by the beautiful mosaics at the Cathedral Basilica, which rivaled any of the churches I’ve seen in Europe. We strolled the halls of the Art Museum and whiled away several hours at St. Louis Zoo, watching baby monkeys and a sweet otter family snarf up frozen fish. But, the most marvelous thing of all, a reason to visit St. Louis in and of itself, was the City Museum.
A whimsical dreamscape created by artist Bob Cassilly, City Museum is unlike any museum you’ve ever visited. It’s more of a playground. Actually, it felt like Burning Man condensed into a single building with a more kid-friendly slant. We went down a ten-story slide. Ten stories! I was so dizzy at the bottom I had to sit down. The next morning my knees were bruised from crawling along secret passageways and through metal mesh passageways suspended over an outdoor courtyard. Enchanted caves. Giant ball pits. Thousands of hotel baking pans reimagined as a wall surface. Turtles. I’m sure this sounds absolutely crazy, so just go visit their website.
And! Beer. Specifically, the best beer we’ve had since Colorado. Schlafly Tap Room offered an abundance of craft beers and a British-style menu that included tasty beer cheese soup and a homey beef pie. I especially liked the citrusy-spicy Christmas Ale and the cask Optic Golden Ale. Patrick favored the Grand Cru. We both liked the Winter ESB, so we bought a growler and have been enjoying it ever since. Schlafly offers free tours of their brew house, too.
World Series champions and a glowing review from Propane Kitchen? St. Lou is having quite the year.
Now that it gets dark so early, we have more time to hang out inside at night. Here’s how we decide what to do each evening.
If you have a can of pumpkin puree leftover from Thanksgiving baking, I urge you to give this soup a try. Hearty, comforting and a tad spicy, it’s not overly pumpkin-y. This recipe is adapted from The Smitten Kitchen, one of my favorite food bloggers and author of a new cookbook coming out in 2012. My version is more rustic, thick with chunks of tomatoes and beans, and fresh chiles and chipotle powder to lend a southwest twist. Continue reading
Winter descended on New Mexico last week. We encountered snow as we drove into the hills north of Santa Fe; six inches of powder covered the ground at Hyde Memorial State Park where we camped for a few days.
A snowy hike left us hungry for something comforting and warm, and Cheesy Cauliflower fit the bill. I’d like to say we ate this with a big, healthy green salad, but the truth is we devoured the gooey goodness on it’s own – we were in a rush to meet some fellow RVers for wine and a game of dominos! The thermometer read 11 degrees when we got “home” that night. Continue reading
We’ve now been on the road for four months, long enough that our former lives are just a hazy memory. We’re in our Winnebago Groove.
Random Statistics
Nutty, toothsome farro is one of my all-time favorite grains, and I love farro salads because they’re so versatile. I’ve been making a lot of these in the Minnie because they come together quickly and allow me to use whatever veggies I have on hand.
Following are some basic proportions to create a dish packed with flavor and texture. Tailor these ingredient suggestions to your personal taste. To create a heartier one-dish meal, I add a shredded chicken or a link of quality sausage.
Propane Kitchen 