This is a guest post by my friend, Kasie Robinson. Please check out her Artfire shop HERE. She kindly wrote a guest post for me during a busy week. I appreciate her input, and Kasie is quite a talented and funny writer.
Here is her guest post and story. As she jokingly called it the title is: Why I Can't Have Nice Things? Enjoy!
I was asked by Michelle about writing a guest post and my
first, immediate thought was nope, don’t know nothin’ ‘bout ‘nothing, got
nothin’ to say, leave me be. But then I
thought of a recipe I could share. Of
course, in order to share the recipe, I have to tell a long, convoluted story
about the drama surrounding that recipe in the last week. People that know me know that all my stories
are long and convoluted. Unfortunately
for them, they can’t skip ahead when I’m talking. But you can.
Feel free to skip ahead.
A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away….early
1980s in rural northwestern Kansas,
I took classes and belonged to a school club called DECA. Distributive Education Clubs of America. I didn’t know if those still existed but I
found a website today and they appear to be going strong. Go DECA!
Each year we got a sales kit full of little items to demonstrate and
sell. I don’t remember what all they
had. I remember a little imitation wood
picture frame, a candle holder, an address book, a notepad. Just stuff.
One of the items was a little cookbook to write recipes in. My mother got each of us (me and two
brothers) a little cookbook and wrote various favorite recipes in them to take
when we left home. I admit there are
some recipes in that book I never used and a few I have used over and over and
over and over and over and over in the 30 years I’ve had it.
Until last month when I “lost” it. I say “lost” because while I can’t find it
anywhere, I am still hoping against hope it is in this house somewhere. It’s not where it’s supposed to be. It’s not anywhere I can think to look. It’s gone and my heart is broken. I’m almost afraid I might have set it down
somewhere wrong and a furry beast knocked it into a trash can. That
may sound like a long-shot, but stranger things have happened.
I can’t recommend enough that parents make up something like
this cookbook for their kids. Yeah, you
can get recipes anywhere. But there is
something about “Mom’s” cooking that can’t be beat. It’s a little slice of love and home that you
can take anywhere with you. Unless
you’re an ungrateful wretch who loses it 30 years later.
I can probably find most all of the recipes in that book
somewhere else. But they won’t be the
same as “my” recipes. And they won’t be
in my mommy’s handwriting. I have asked
my mom to put together another little cookbook for me. She has agreed although she doesn’t remember
what all is in it either. I can name off
half a dozen recipes off the top of my head.
A few of them are VERY, VERY important.
My husband says, nonchalantly “oh it’s here somewhere.” What he doesn’t realize is: that cookbook contains the summer sausage
recipe. I can’t make it without it and
it’s almost summer sausage time. He’ll
be getting a little more uptight here in a few weeks.
The other thing about this book is: Basically, I don’t cook. Oh, I have a shelf of cookbooks. I love to read recipes. But I don’t cook. There are a few things I can make and make
well, and almost all of them are in that book and I have been making them since
I was a kid. Which is why they are in
the book in the first place.
The reason I noticed it missing now is because it was time
to think of what I wanted for my birthday dinner and that recipe, the recipe I
am sharing today, was in the cookbook.
It’s a fairly simple recipe but it makes more than just the two of us
can eat, so we usually only make it when there are several of us around. It’s a “special occasion” recipe for us but
it doesn’t have to be for anybody else. I don’t know where my mom got it, and last
time I asked her, she said she didn’t remember either. Although I’m sure it’s a common recipe, I
haven’t seen it anywhere else.
It’s probably not a cheap recipe and it’s not a healthy recipe
(fried bread!), although I’m sure someone who knows what they are doing could
make it more cheaply and more healthier.
But this is the way I know to make it and it’s yummy.
IF YOU SKIPPED AHEAD, this is where you start now. Enjoy!
Calzones (Meat Pies)
1 pkg Pillsbury hot roll mix (uses oil, water and 1 egg to
mix)
1/2 lb hamburger meat (we use 1 pound)
1 garlic clove, crushed OR 1 tsp garlic powder
1/4 tsp crushed oregano
1 cup ricotta cheese OR cottage cheese
1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese
3/4 tsp salt
1 egg
8 oz shredded mozzarella cheese (will use only half, maybe)
Vegetable oil
(Note: If you have a
good bread recipe, you can probably make that in place of using the roll
mix. Because we use double the hamburger
meat the recipe calls for and the roll mix has shrunk over the years, we always
end up with more meat mixture than roll mix.
I also sometimes bulk up, but not double, the other ingredients for a
little more flavor.)
Prepare roll mix and directed and let rise 45 minutes until
doubled. While that is rising, cook
hamburger, garlic and oregano until brown.
Spoon off fat. Stir in ricotta
cheese and parmesan cheese, salt and egg; set aside.
Turn dough onto lightly floured surface; cover with bowl and
let rise 5 minutes. Cut dough into
pieces and roll into 4 inch circles.
Spread with a few teaspoons of meat mixture and top with
mozzarella. Moisten edges with water
and seal.
Place pies on cookie sheet and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise 5 minutes.
In heavy skillet over medium heat, heat 1 inch of vegetable
oil to 370 degrees. Fry pies until
golden. These are best served piping hot, in my
opinion.
I can’t tell you how many this yields because we cut them
out into any old shape and size we like.
We probably usually get about a dozen out of each batch, with leftover
meat mixture my husband puts in sandwiches later.
I love your contribution, Kasie! :D It sounds like a winner recipe to me! I can also see this being frozen for later. You know, make now while you have some semblance of money, and then when your kids start eating you out of house and home, the process can be a touch more gradual and hopefully not quite so painful. ;)
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