Canning butter

Warning: I am about to engage in a little blatant plagiarism. 

Last week I got several pounds of butter for less than $1 a pound. I have quite a surplus now, so I decided to preserve some, which I've been wanting to try for some time. 

It's quite a simple process and instructions abound on the internet. The funny thing is, they are all almost exactly the same, word for word. There is no way I can track the original writer, so I will do what every other blogger has done before me.

Copy and paste.

1.   Use any butter that is on sale. Lesser quality butter requires more shaking (see #5 below), but the results are the same as with the expensive brands.

2.   Heat pint jars in a 250 degree oven for 20 minutes, without rings or seals. One pound of butter slightly more than fills one pint jar, so if you melt 11 pounds of butter, heat 12 pint jars. A roasting pan works well for holding the pint jars while in the oven.

As you can see, I managed without the roasting pan.

3.  While the jars are heating, melt butter slowly until it comes to a slow boil. Using a large spatula, stir the bottom of the pot often to keep the butter from scorching.  Place the lids in a small pot and bring to a boil, leaving the lids in simmering water until needed.

Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes at least: a good simmer time will lessen the amount of shaking required (see #5 below).

For some reason, it was hard to know when the butter was simmering. But notice how much higher it had risen in the pan in this photo, so I figured it was simmering.

4.   Stirring the melted butter from the bottom to the top with a soup ladle or small pot with a handle, pour the melted butter carefully into heated jars through a canning jar funnel. Leave 3/4" of head space in the jar, which allows room for the shaking process.

5.   Carefully wipe off the top of the jars, then get a hot lid from the simmering water, add the lid and ring and tighten securely. Lids will seal as they cool. Once a few lids "ping," shake while the jars are still warm, but cool enough to handle easily, because the butter will separate and become foamy on top and white on the bottom. In a few minutes, shake again, and repeat until the butter retains the same consistency throughout the jar.

6.   At this point, while still slightly warm, put the jars into a refrigerator. While cooling and hardening, shake again, and the melted butter will then look like butter and become firm. This final shaking is very important. Check every 5 minutes and give the jars a little shake until they are hardened in the jar. Leave in the refrigerator for an hour.

7.   Canned butter should store for 3 years or longer on a cool, dark shelf. [It does last a long time. I have heard of people using it after 5 years.] Canned butter does not "melt" again when opened, so it does not need to be refrigerated upon opening, provided it is used within a reasonable length of time.

Behold, my lovely little jars of butter. 

People ask me, why can butter?

Well, because my freezer is full.

It doesn't need refrigeration.

And I think it is a useful skill.

Now, if I could just find some spare storage space to put all those jars of applesauce, chicken, and butter.

'Night 'night

Jeff had gum grafts today.

I was a bad wife and went to the Christmas Bazaar.

More on that later.

You can hardly wait, I know!

I got home to find him sitting carefully on  the couch.

In front of a cozy fire.

Bethany called as I was on my way home.

She asked, in a pitiful voice, if she and the kids could come and spend the night. 

Chris is off on a Boy Scout camp-out.

'Night 'night, Daniel.

Listening to Nana's (soon to be Daniel's) MP3 player.
I think that he has blueberry juice on his nose.

'Night 'night, Josh.

Looking for Waldo.

'Night 'night, Kenz.

Reading Junie B.

'Night 'night Natalie.

Mad about several things.

"Night all.

Jeff-approved turkey leftovers

It is a well-known fact that I could live on leftovers for six days a week.

Jeff, however, has a limited tolerance for the concept.

He doesn't complain until the third day and even then it usually manifests itself more as a lack of enthusiasm. 

Four days and I am in the doghouse.

For some reason, he is even less enamoured of turkey leftovers than anything else.

Why this is so, I do not know.

So, I was quite happy to see this idea on a friend's facebook post.

Turkey enchilada casserole.

Well, anything with the word "casserole" in the title turns me on, so I gave it a try.

Jeff was happy and had seconds.

I was happy because after I put the rest of it in his little dish for his lunch tomorrow...

...there was nothing left.

Jeff said hopefully, We could have that for dinner again tomorrow.

Turkey Enchilada Casserole

2 c chopped turkey

1 can cream of chicken soup

1/2 can milk

1 can chopped green chilis

2 c shredded cheese (half in, half on top)

8 to 10 corn tortillas

Half a sauteed sweet onion

Mix everything with half of the cheese. Put in a casserole dish. I used a large Corningware dish, but a 9x13 would work. Sprinkle remaining cheese on top and bake at 350 till bubbly and brown.

You could serve it with sour cream, salsa, lettuce and tomatoes.

Or eat it straight up, like we did!

Freebies rock

My friend Brenda suggested I check out HeyIt'sFree. 

I rapidly became converted.

I spend, maybe, three minutes a day, checking the website and applying for free stuff. The auto-fill option on your computer makes it really easy. Almost every day I get free stuff in my mailbox. Here's a photo of some of the goodies that have arrived lately. Hair care, skin care, ear plugs, cleaning supplies, toothpaste, deodorants (oops, I forget to put those in the picture) and medical supplies. 

That doesn't even include all of the sanitary supplies (some things just don't need to be photographed) and edibles that have already been edibled. 

There's a link to the site in my blog list if you, too, want to be a blessed recipient of all this bounty.

Some things to think about:

I never give them my real birth date.

I don't apply for things I won't use, or that someone I love won't use. I do send off for pet food items because I have several friends who use them.

I have a separate email account that I give to the suppliers so that my Juno account doesn't get clogged up with emails. Then, I will often unsubscribe if I don't want to continue getting mail from those companies.

Now, does anyone need small-sized bubble-wrap envelopes?

I have an abundance of them.

Deja vu

Yesterday afternoon, I took Kenzie to a performance of La Boutique Fantasque by The Portland Ballet. She will attain the grand age of ten next week, so this was her present.  We got all togged up and arrived in good time at the Newmark Theatre  in Portland. 

We had a grand conversation about the subconscious on the inbound journey. My darling Kenzie is more than a bit blonde and I'm still not sure that she understands the concept. I told her that the subconscious is the part of the brain that works on things when we're not really thinking about them. Like when we have a problem and the solution will suddenly come into our minds when we are doing something else. Or if we sleep on it and let our brain work on it overnight, sometimes we will get the answer the next day. 

Kenzie grabbed onto the "problem" aspect of the explanation and regaled me for the next few miles with tales of her friends and their little social dilemmas.

And so-and-so wanted to sit by me, and so did so-and-so, so I just ....(Nana tunes out and thinks about something else for a few miles, nodding and uh-huh-ing once in a while).....and then.....blah blah blah.....and to be honest, I have no idea how the story ended. 

Bad Nana.

A few minutes into the ballet, it seemed strangely familiar.

I realized that I had seen it before.

December, 2003.

Kenzie was barely three years old and it was her first ballet. 

She sat, enthralled, for the whole performance.

That show was at a community college and on a much smaller scale. I think we were the only attendees who weren't related to one of the dancers. 

It was oddly satisfying to watch the ballet again with an older, more mature, version of that little girl.

One who, during the performance, kept sneaking M&M's out of her pink, fuzzy purse.

I (h)am no more

A few years ago, I had a Thanksgiving rebellion.

This year, said I, I am not going to cook a big old turkey. We shall have ham.

So we did.

Picking a gigantic turkey carcass clean on Thanksgiving evening is not my idea of fun, you see. Especially after being on my feet all day, cooking masses of culinary delights that are only slightly dented by my family of small eaters, leaving copious amounts of leftovers that seem to expand in an opposing ratio to the space available in my refrigerator. So, obviously, finding space to fit the enormous, unpicked carcass is a losing proposition. 

Phew.

Angst, anyone?

So yes, we had ham for Thanksgiving.

But only once.

No more, cried my poor, deprived (for some reason I want to write depraved) family.

And we did not ever have ham again for this holiday, unless it was to supplement the turkey for a large gathering.

Another confession:

I usually cook much too large a quantity of food.

This year, I was determined to match the amount of food to the number of people attending, which was only six adults and an equal number (although it felt like more) of picky children. 

Jon walked in and said, Wow, you decided to scale back this year.

Isn't it sweet when our children acknowledge our efforts to please them?

This year, Chris smoked the turkey on his Traeger grill and sliced it in my kitchen, making both his mother-and father-in-law happy. 

Pretty smart move, don't you think?

It was, quite simply, divine.

He said, I only got a 16lb turkey this year, instead of a 20lb one. 

(He remembers my complaints from last year, you see.)

Stuffing confession: 

Half of it came from my freezer, leftovers from last year. 

I mixed in a box of Stove Top, some sauteed onion and celery, and it was savoury and delectable.

We have been true and faithful to the concept of pumpkin pie for several decades, but after realizing that it is only eaten after everything else is just a sweet memory, Bethany and I decided to forego the tradition this year. So, desserts, from top left and clockwise, were: custard tart (our family tradition), chocolate cream pie, persimmon pudding (I forgot the butter, but it didn't seem to hurt it), and pumpkin bread pudding. I have linked some of the recipes, if you're interested to try any of them. 

Jenny made her famous Jello. 

This is the favourite of every child. 

There are never leftovers of Jenny's Jello.

The adults are pretty fond of it too!

The bread pudding. 

I cheated on the recipe and used raisin bread. 

My creme anglaise was a bit of a cheat too, but it was all good.

The chocolate cream pie, in my opinion, which is not humble at all because I am almost always right, the best I have ever made. The crust was tender, the pudding rich without being overpoweringly sweet, and I sprinkled Heath toffee bits on the whipped cream, which was the piece de resistance. The chocolate chips were a bit over the top, but I've forgiven myself. The recipe link was just for the pudding, which is the most important part.

After dinner, things got a bit wild, as usual. Jeff and Bethany were sick and Chris was sleepy, so Jenny took the kids out in the rec room and organized the kids in a game of Hide and Seek. After a while, I went out and taught them some Thanksgiving songs. They ran around the room, singing and playing instruments.

This is my new favourite song. The kids liked it too.

Now, try and get that out of your head.

Bwahahaha!

We performed it for the adults, along with a "thankful song" I made up.

They were suitably impressed.

Not!

Next, a puppet show of dubious distinction. 

Little Jeff kept annoying everyone and Josh had a tantrum. 

Natalie was bored.

Thomy, wearing his turkey hat that he made at school.

Before everyone went home, the kids and I sang some Christmas songs. 

Which, if you love me at all, you will watch.

Notice Josh's fancy footwork.

And Thomy displays some pretty awesome vocal talent in this one.

Thanks to Jenny, the phantom videographer. I had no idea that she was taking these until I found them on my camera.

And thank you to you, for reading this epistle all the way to the end. 

Which assumes that you didn't get bored and check out five minutes ago. 

In which case, I will never know, so don't tell me.

Gluten-free boy

I splurged on some Bob's Red Mill almond flour a few weeks ago. I had seen some gluten-free cookie recipes that I wanted to try for Josh. The added complication of being dairy free makes finding a good recipe something of a challenge, so I'm always looking for the magic bullet. 

So, I made the cookies.

I would give you the recipe, but you probably don't want it because the almond flour is about a dollar a cup. 

[Seriously.

Even at half-price.

I did the math.

After I bought it.]

Plus, I meddled with it.

You know how I am.

I thought they were quite yummy, but Bethany and Josh were ambivalent.

As in, I visited their house a few weeks later and the cookies were still in the freezer.

Untouched.

I was a little peeved.

While I was there, I talked Josh into trying them again, and this time he decided he liked them.

Luckily, I had stashed some of the dough in my freezer, so every time he has been at our house lately I've made him a small batch of cookies in the toaster oven. After they are baked, I place a small sliver of dark Scharffenberger chocolate atop each cookie. When it has melted, it spreads nicely over the cookie.

Daniel and Josh spent the night on Wednesday.

They watched Rudy with Papa and spent the night sleeping on the floor of the family room, in front of the dwindling fire.

Josh asked for some of his special cookies.

He likes to eat them fresh out of the oven.

I live just to see that look of satisfaction on the little guy's face.