Category Archives: Holidays

Go Nuts


It’s impossible to eat just one.  You can almost chisel your biceps while practicing the hand-to-mouth technique.

I am a big fan of spiced nuts.  Sweet and crunchy, they’re the perfect accompaniment to those ample holiday cocktails.  Already delicious naked, it’s only an improvement to dress nuts up in sugar and coat them with seasonal spice.

When I lived in Santiago, Chile, I was a slave to the roasted almond carts.  Their sweet vanilla scent would dictate my path throughout the city. Fresh from the roasting pans and tepidly warm, they were addicting.

As the Christmas spirit takes me under its wing, I’ve found comfort in the tastes of home.  Around the holiday season, spiced nuts seem to be one of those things.  Like on the streets of Santiago, the aroma takes you prisoner and swaddles you in its warm blanket of spice.  Rounded out in flavor by the addition of just a bit of heat, these nuts are the perfect snack if you can keep them around more than an hour.

Spiced Nuts

Makes 4 cups

1 egg white

1 teaspoon water

4 cups nuts of your choice, I used almonds and walnuts

1 cup sugar

1 heaping tablespoon cinnamon or pumpkin pie spice

1/2 teaspoon cayenne or chili powder (optional)

Whisk together egg white and water in a large bowl until foamy.  Toss with nuts to coat.  Add sugar and spice to mixture, then toss to coat evenly.

Heat a dry pan on the stove over medium heat. In small batches, roast the nuts stirring frequently.  Adjust heat if needed.  You’ll want a kitchen fan as it will get a bit smokey.  When the nuts take on a deep brown caramelized color, they’re finished, about 3-4 minutes per batch.  

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Spreading on the Pumpkin Cheer

pumpkin dup

About the time of year when carols strike up in endless succession, peppermint and cinnamon emerge from their warm-weather hibernation.  Lattes abound in seasonal flavors and pumpkin is suddenly the guest of honor at dinner.

In the spirit of things, last Saturday I prepared my contributions to our Thanksgiving extravaganza. After last year, my chestnut stuffing and pumpkin dip were requested for a return appearance.

Clockwise from left: Turkey, chile roasted sweet potato, cranberry sauce, gravy, sweet potato and spinach gratin, mashed potatoes, Cajun potato salad, stuffing, roasted veggies, glazed carrots, green bean casserole and a trifecta of macaroni and cheese

Dinner, clockwise from left: Turkey, chile roasted sweet potato, cranberry sauce, gravy, sweet potato and spinach gratin, mashed potatoes, Cajun potato salad, stuffing, roasted veggies, glazed carrots, green bean casserole and a trifecta of macaroni and cheese

The stuffing recipe was covered in one of my first posts (“yay” for one year of blogging), and the pumpkin dip also received a nod.  In retrospect, however, I think the dip deserves another moment of glory.

The recipe was lifted from another blog, turned on to me by a friend, Haute Apple Pie.  My friend brought the dip along for a holiday party and immediately it entered my repertoire of go-tos.  In the States, this was complicated by the fact that the dip is best served with sliced apples and a particular Swedish cookie, Anna’s Original Ginger Thins.  Locating the Ginger Thins was a bit of a challenge, but you could always count on your local Ikea.

2012-11-23 10.13.40

Which brings me to the next challenge.

Locating just about anything in Ikea can bear semblance to assisting Indiana Jones in finding the Lost Ark. You have two options: submit to Ikea’s intricately woven maze of ergonomic chairs and locate the cookies in approximately 3.25 hours, or shave off time by gambling with a case of vertigo and take on Ikea in reverse.  If you choose the latter, just remember, when you inevitably lose sight of up from down, walk away from the smell of meatballs.

It's not your fault.

It’s not your fault.

By some coincidence, Ginger Thins are available in all Korean Emarts.  And in three flavors, no less! We must take this as a sign that we are to consume as much pumpkin dip as humanly possible this holiday season.

Great as an appetizer or dessert, it’s always well received.

Pumpkin Dip

From Haute Apple Pie, with modifications

Yield: 2 cups

1 cup fresh pumpkin puree (For Korean kabocha squash, halve then scoop out seeds and microwave about 12-15 minutes or until tender. Scoop out soft flesh and mash with a fork.)

1 package cream cheese

1/4 cup brown sugar

1 tbsp pumpkin pie spice, or any available combination of ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, allspice and cloves.

apples, to serve

Anna’s Original Ginger Thins

Combine all ingredients in a bowl, then serve with Ginger Thins and sliced apples.

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Underage Cake-ing

It was a day that would forever change the course of history.

A few years back, I arrived home for my yearly visit.   The Mountain Standard to Eastern Standard time change kindly put my flight in around midnight. My parents’ smiles gleamed as I exited the airport tram, and I was quickly escorted home to devour the contents of a fully stocked fridge.  After eating cold pizza and finishing off the mashed potatoes, I put my fork down to rest.  I’d about had enough when my Dad perked up with excitement.  He could have just as soon suggested we go down to the barnyard and feed the pigs before I would have seen this one coming.

In my youth, my mother had spearheaded a movement which isolated my grandmother and I.  Cast off to a corner with our double chocolate cupcakes and our triple fudge sundaes, she would incessantly state the need to maintain a balanced diet. So what if chocolate was the axis of our diets?

My father on the other hand was a different story.  Always watching his cholesterol, he seemed to stick to his guns when it came to by-passing dessert.  All the way through his third helping of frozen yogurt, he would stick to his guns. His idea of a balanced diet was doubling the quantity to even out the losses of fat-free.

With one parent touting everything in moderation and the other sneaking sugar-free snack cakes, you may understand why I had resigned myself to lonely late-night sessions with a tube of uncooked cookie dough.  Just me, the moonlight, and a peaceful lack of judgement.

With this is mind, you can imagine my surprise when my father looked towards my mother and she unveiled the next course.  It was then that I first laid eyes on it.  The seductive bundt-cake curves, the rich and glistening texture.  There it stood.  The Kahlua Cake. 

Before this moment, cakes had been reserved for birthdays and extra-special celebrations. This baby was a game changer. All of a sudden, every occasion was an excuse!  Daughter home from college? Kahlua cake.  Housewarming for the neighbors? Kahlua cake.  Lawn mower started on the first try?  Kahlua cake. This cake throws all morals out the window. 

Last week we were all graced with the addition of one extra day in the month of February.  Besides the opportunity this provides to procrastinate your taxes a little bit longer, a leap year also means an actual birthday for one of my closest friends.  Seeing as her official day only comes around once every 4 years, we thought she deserved the best.  I decided to recreate the Kahlua cake for the occasion, Korean style. 

The original recipe starts with German chocolate cake mix and instant chocolate pudding, so this was going to be a bit of a challenge.  Match the lack of ingredients with the rarity of a bundt pan, and I was shaking in my boots.  What had I done?  How could I make anything to hold a candle to the one and only?  I talked myself off the ledge, tightened my apron and reached for my whisk. This was going to happen.

GMB: Genetically Modified Batter

Everything starts with a chocolate cake.  I did some research and found a promising recipe.  The one I chose relies on beating margarine with the sugar to begin rather than the more traditional butter.  Knowing the amount of additives that go into the gooey yellow stuff,  I was a little reluctant.  On second thought,  it might work.  Nobody likes to gamble on a dry finished product.  Surely in this day and age scientists have perfected the compounds necessary to ensure a moist outcome.  A little creepy, but I decided to embrace it.

I also knew that a pecan topping was indispensable.  I sought some out at Home Plus and sprinkled them in the bottom of the 8-inch pan before filling it with batter.  We were looking good. 

An ample sprinkling

The final piece of the puzzle was the finishing glaze.  Butter, sugar and Kahlua [soju] are simmered together and poured right over top of that sucker.  As I’ve always said, butter makes it better.  Match that butter with a bit of Kahlua and I’ll just  let your imagination run wild. 

Oozing appeal

Normally, 7th birthdays are reserved for Barbie dolls and princess-themed parties.  While tiaras are age-appropriate across the board, this cake might only be warmly received by one with their 7th birthday falling on a leap-year.  Since I know you’re toying with the idea,  you might as well just go ahead and black list this cake from your niece’s party.  Showing up with a booze soaked masterpiece might not fly with Auntie Miranda (even though Uncle Lenny would be singing your praises).  Just sayin, because if your impression’s anything like mine, you’ll be digging for excuses.

Happy 7th!

The Next Best Kahlua Cake

Recipe adapted from Best Moist Chocolate Cake from

1/2 cup pecans, coarsely chopped

1/2 cup margarine

3/4 cup and 2 tablespoons white sugar

1 egg

3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

3/4 cup milk

1-1/4 cups all-purpose flour

3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt


1/2 cup sugar

1/2 stick butter

1/8 cup water

1/4 cup Kahlua [soju]

  1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour an 8- inch cake pan. Sprinkle pecans on bottom of pan. Sift together the flour, cocoa, baking soda and salt. Set aside.
  2. In a large bowl, cream together the margarine and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the vanilla. Beat in the flour mixture alternately with the milk, mixing just until incorporated. Pour batter into prepared pan.
  3. Bake in the preheated oven for 30 to 35 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean.
  4. While the cake bakes, prepare the topping.  Boil butter, sugar and water in a sauce pan for about 2 minutes.  Remove from heat and stir in Kahlua.  While cake is still hot, pour mixture over the top and allow to absorb.  Try to resist about 20 minutes, then enjoy.

Note: I have found that this cake freezes extremely well.  It works great to freeze the whole cake, or if you’re a chocoholic like me, divide it up into sections, wrap in waxed paper and foil, then freeze.  Each time your craving strikes just zap a piece (or two) in the microwave for about 30 seconds.

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Pretty Pretty Pancakes

As part of the acculturation process with my English friends, I have fully embraced the holiday Pancake Day.  Known more prominently as Fat Tuesday in the States, this is the last day before Ash Wednesday – signifying the start of Lenten.  According to my tea-guzzling, history buff source, the holiday came about with Brits needing to use up leftovers in their pantry before the start of fasting.  Before I go any further, let me point out a few things that I have learned in my compulsory cake revision (from English revise, meaning “to study”).

1.  All pancakes are not created equal.

American pancakes tend to be light and fluffy and English pancakes are denser, flatter,  and more similar to a crepe.  Both have a  “doughy” quality, but the English version is much more chewy and dense.  

2. Pancakes aren’t just for breakfast (and midnight runs to Denny’s) anymore.

Smothered in butter and syrup, American pancakes bridge the gap between savory and sweet.  Generally, their presence  is reserved for morning time, with the exceptions of “breakfast for dinner” concept  meals and liquor-fogged trips to the diner.   English pancakes are generally thought of as a dessert item, or an extra-special sweet start to your day.

3.  Pancakes are best paired with a cuppa. 

Americans: forget Joe and befriend Elizabeth.  Cuppa – English for a cup of tea.  Preferably unflavored, black tea, served with a bit of COLD milk and sugar if so desired.

4.  There’s not just one way to flip a pancake.

In my experience, pancakes were always accompanied by the flicking of wrists and the swift movements of a spatula.  On my first Pancake Day, however, I was introduced to the idea of pancake accountability.  In order to enjoy the calorie dense delight, each person must in fact flip their own pancake.  The spatula plays only a supporting role – – it’s in the wrists and a carefully orchestrated  airborne technique.   Like, the one I thought only profession chefs could master. 

In my case, this brought back  flashbacks of that time on a friend’s  boat in Missouri when I was forced to abide by the Bagby Family  “You’re not coming back on this boat until you stand up on those water skis!” Policy.  It ended about 3 hours later in disgust with a  lot of water up my nose.  With this springing to mind, I was immediately overcome with anxiousness.  I think Jeanette’s face about sums up the sentiment. It’s not as easy as it looks!

A little bit frustrated

5.  When living in Korea, disregard everything you thought you knew.

One of the peaks of my schedule last year came Thursday afternoons at one of my elementary schools.  As part of their after school program, the mothers of a couple  students would come in to teach grades 3-6 cooking lessons.  After lurking around, I managed to wriggle my way into one of the assigned cooking groups.  I enjoyed learning the Korean recipes as much as my 8-year-old counterparts, but let me tell you, this was not smooth sailing.  5th graders are much more critical of  technique than any Le Cordon Bleu trained chef.  They made me prove my worth on more than one occasion to avoid dishwashing duty.

In class, we learned to make an assortment of items, ranging from sweet and sour pork to kimchi.  For our last class, I was told excitedly by my students that we would be making “American hot cakes.”  I thought this was a little bizarre but didn’t really think much of it until class time.  Until now, I hadn’t really been aware of a Korean familiarity with “hot cakes” but who knew?  

To begin, we mixed up our packaged batter and slowly drizzled it into a greased up frying pan. Innocent enough.  With the first pancake hot off the griddle, my group moved along to start frying up another.  One from our group scurried off to fetch an allotment of jam and various fresh fruits. This wasn’t really standard, but I figured it all still fit loosely into the category of “breakfast foods.”  It was when the Cool Whip became involved that I grew suspicious.  

Nervously spreading among hawking group members

I watched my group evenly spread the jam between layers of stacked pancakes.  When all the pancakes were layered, I observed (a bit horrified) as they slopped on the Cool Whip.  Suddenly,  it clicked.  We were  making a pan-CAKE.  DUH! Why hadn’t we thought of this!?  It just seemed so OBVIOUS! So THIS is how they make cakes in the land without ovens!!

It's Cool Whip time!

When fully frosted, my group took their time delicately arranging each wedge of fruit in careful symmetry.  Upon completion, they summoned over the teacher. Our creation was unlike any hot cake I had ever encountered.  I was silently praising my ability to take it all in stride and commend my group members on their grasp of an American stand-by. When the garnish came along, however,  it all fell to pieces.  With pride, the teacher scurried over with the finishing touch.  Digging in her apron pocket, she pulled out a  sprig of fresh rosemary and stuck it right in the middle.  Glory be! 

Our glorious panCAKE

When it came time to devour our creation, my reluctance quickly turned a bit ravenous.  It worked.  It was truly delicious.  In the land of sugar sprinkled garlic bread and sweet potato lattes, there is a lesson to be learned.  While it generally is not in your best interest to disregard all rules of food pairing, when done correctly,  it works. I’m still a bit skeptical of chocolate-covered bacon, but I guess now I must give it a try.  We’ll save that for next time. 

This Pancake Day, our celebration converged with the birthdays of two friends.  In the spirit of things, we broke out the chocolate hot cake mix, jam, and added a special twist with Nutella and candles.  It was spectacular. Here’s to a new tradition.

PanCAKE heaven

I think he liked it.

English Style Pancakes

8 Heaping Tbsp Flour

1 Pint Milk

2 Eggs

1 Tbsp Oil

Combine first three ingredients in mixer until blended.  Melt oil in pan on medium to high heat.  When pan is hot, pour in only enough batter to thinly coat the bottom of pan.  Cook about 1-2 minutes or until browned, then flip (to each his own!) and repeat.  To serve, place chocolate squares, jam, fresh lemon juice and sugar, or filling of your choice in center and roll.

English style-large and flat

Special thanks to Sally for this recipe, my first cup of proper tea,  the addition of twat to my everyday vocabulary, and for her patience and encouragement throughout the learning process.


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Put Your Nog Into It

Ahhh, Christmas.  The time of year when you brush up on your white lies to ensure that Grandma is satisfied with the praise for each pair of  underpants.  Likewise for that throw pillow you ended up with after the gift exchange.  “I loooove it….!”

(Note: If you’re confused by now, I am of the “Cashew” faith.  That is, one part Catholic and one part Jew.)

A couple of years ago, when I tasted the first sip of my uncle’s eggnog, I did not have to draw upon this arsenal.  It was delicious.  “How had I gone this long in life without it?” I asked myself.  Thankfully someone had welcomed this chap into our family! On one occasion around the age of 13, I remember picking up a carton of the mass-produced stuff  from the local supermarket.  After years of reference in Christmas movies, I was wondering what all the fuss was about.   One sip, and I wrote it off.  Its flavor profile channeled cough syrup.  I’ll just take hot cocoa… Today,  thanks to my uncle, I have learned a valuable life lesson.  Having an open mind is priceless.  Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.  Oh, baby. 

Amidst a plethora of non-Americans harboring a curiosity similar to my own, I decided to take it on this year.   Because this decision was made Christmas Eve in the midst of a craving fueled frenzy, I did not have time to request my uncle’s standard recipe.  But, let’s get real people, like he would have passed it along anyway.  I’m sure that baby has been passed down for centuries under lock and key.  After perusing, I found one that seemed to suffice.  Most ingredients were on hand, and a fellow ring leader lent me her imported whole nutmeg.


Whisk away


With a hand mixer being MIA, I once again called upon my leadership skills. I lined up the recruits and chose the finest biceps for whipping duty.  After some negotiation, we agreed to rotate the responsibility.  We couldn’t have those muscles cramping before we’d even opened presents.  A number of frustrated sighs later, the egg whites reached “peak” quality (ha-ha).  It took stern voices and a fly swatter to keep salivating friends at bay, but with promises of tasty bliss in just a short while, we were able to set the batch outside to rest.

When we tapped into it, I wish we would have had a string quartet.  Bells should have rung up from the valley to the hilltops above.  Next year I’ll just have to work on finding a larger bowl to double the recipe.  Happy Holidays!

Finishing touches



Serves 10
  • 1 quart milk
  • 1 pint heavy cream
  • 12 egg yolks
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 pint whiskey
  • 12 egg whites
  • 1 cup white sugar
  • 1 pinch ground nutmeg


In a large bowl, blend the milk, cream, egg yolks, vanilla and whiskey using a hand mixer until smooth and creamy. In a separate bowl, whip egg whites until soft peaks form. Gradually sprinkle in the sugar while continuing to whip until stiff. Fold the egg whites into the egg yolk mixture, and pour into a punch bowl or large pitcher. Serve in mugs or cups garnished with a sprinkle of nutmeg.

View full recipe on

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A Latke Just for Me

As the lone Jew in our region, I take my responsibility to bring the Jewish holiday cheer very seriously.  Somebody has to counter the Christmas carols with a L’chiam!  I intended to host a get-together to observe Hanukkah  – – Korean style.  Following a discovery this weekend, I had just the thing to elevate our celebration.

This past Sunday was my birthday.  My day was shared with a fellow redhead, so we decided to give our joint potluck party a “ginger” theme.  For the occasion, my best friends came through by finding just the recipe – – Gingered Carrot Latkes.  Latkes, fried pancakes traditionally made from potatoes, are key to any Hanukkah celebration.  As if my personal existence was not a stellar enough example of the superb combo of  ginger and Jews, I now have a tasty counterpart to rest my case!


With our taste buds taken care of, I next had to turn my attention to the menorah.  A candelabrum of sorts, the menorah holds 8 candles representative of each night and one more prominent candle used to light the others, the shamash.  Thanks to this country’s healthy soju habit, I found disposable shot glasses readily available.  8 shot glasses paired with a regular paper cup for the shamash suited the bill perfectly.  Completed with birthday candles and Santa overseeing the whole ordeal, we had a prime example of inclusiveness.   Hoards of discrimination lawyers would be proud.  For the last piece of the puzzle, a few unsuspecting  attendees were assigned the task of fashioning a  dreidel out of a print-out template, cardboard and a pencil.  A few paper cuts later, we had a little gambling in the mix and were good to go. 

All and all, I’d say my work here is done.  While I may not have won them over with sing-a-longs of  “The Dreidel Song,” I am sure I secured an endearing place for ginger and Jews in everyone’s heart.  Now, if only I could find a way to dodge the blame for fixing a broken record in everyone’s subconscious.   Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made it out of clay…

Gingered Carrot Latkes

Gourmet  December 2004

Yield: Makes about 15

6 cups coarsely grated peeled carrots

6 tablespoons all purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

3/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

7 teaspoons finely grated peeled fresh ginger

3 large eggs, beaten to blend

Canola oil (for frying)

Place carrots in large bowl; press with paper towels to absorb any moisture. In another large bowl, whisk flour, salt, baking powder, and pepper to blend. Mix in carrots and ginger, then eggs.

Pour enough oil into heavy large skillet to cover bottom and heat over medium heat. Working in batches and adding more oil as needed, drop carrot mixture by 1/4 cupfuls into skillet and spread to 3 1/2-inch rounds. Fry until golden, about 5 minutes per side. Transfer latkes to rimmed baking sheet. (Can be made 6 hours ahead. Let stand at room temperature. Rewarm in 350°F oven until crisp, about 10 minutes.)


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Undoing the Top Button

Living in a foreign country, I’m well aware that on a day-to-day basis my actions are  viewed as somewhat absurd by those around me.   The sideways stares and furrowed brows have become a bit of the background music to my life.  This weekend was no exception.

With ovens being a bit of a commodity here, the silent partner for this whole  ordeal was to be my slow-cooker.  Factor in the need for specific   ingredients, a 5 hour bus journey, two transfers, and a 20 minute walk and we’re looking at  a daunting venture. I was met with a few firmer stares than usual as passersby glanced in the direction of the stifled grunts along the way. I guess a redhead heaving under the weight of canned goods isn’t as common as high heels on a hike.

Having served time with hard labor upon arrival, putting the finishing touches on my stuffing felt like a walk in the park.  I’m happy to report that  the slow-cooker worked fabulously as an incubator of gooey goodness.

This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful to our founding fathers for adding gluttony to the national agenda.  

Happy Thanksgiving!

Worth the exertion

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Thanksgiving on the Horizon

Yes, folks, it has arrived.  The only  time of year when the elastic around your waist is praised as ingenious  rather than scorned as geriatric.  Cover a table with dozens of Mom’s recipes, ample spirits, add some football for good measure and you’re standing right next to the Dhali Llama in line for karmic enlightenment.

Bring. It. On.

Some of you may settle for a big chicken.  Some of you may forego the green bean slop we all love to hate.  I, however, am not one of those people.

There will be turkey.

There will be green bean casserole.

There will be stuffing.

There will be potatoes.

There will be cranberry sauce.

And by Gl-tton, there will be pumpkin pie.

This year, I have taken on the responsibilities of stuffing and pumpkin dip (courtesy of fellow WordPress bloggers Haute Apple Pie).

Now, stuffing is one of those things not to be messed with.  Some people were weaned off the bottle with sausage in their stuffing.  Others swear up and down that slimy, salt-saturated surprises called canned oysters are the secret ingredient.  In my house, we prefer to keep it simple.  Over the years, our standard go-to has come of age and left Pepperidge Farm in its dust with the additions of fresh rosemary, roasted chestnuts, and caramelized onions to deepen the flavor.

Round 1: Bread Cubes in Barbie’s Oven

It all starts with good bread.  At home, through trial and error, I have decided that fresh sourdough lends itself best to the final product.  While I like challenges, I also know when to hang up my hat.  This isn’t San Francisco.  Paris Baguette’s “Fresh Homestyle” will work just fine. On Sunday, I set out on the first step of my journey towards the light.

After stocking up with 4 loaves of bread, I headed for a friend’s who kindly offered to share her oven. With help, we had all 4 loaves neatly cut into uniform cubes in under 30 minutes.  The toasting process, however, was not quite as concise.  Complete with a miniature baking sheet and spastic fuse, needless to say, the toasting took a few rounds.  About 32.

Toasted to perfection

Round 2: Hunt and Gather

After a few months (and a few run-ins) on the trail of fresh rosemary, I purchased a small plant of my own a few weeks ago.  Done, and done, you say?  While rosemary has a reputation for being a bit fussy and I have a reputation  for turning things brown, I was a little worried about this one.  Fingers crossed, I think we’ve made it.  That is, unless I cut the sprigs off this evening and every last leaf ends up on my patio floor.  Let’s think positive.

Fresh parsley was secured with help the of NH (previously mentioned) and ample chicken bouillon  was scoured from the hidden corners of HP.  While chestnuts gave me a bit of a run for my money, we’re locked and loaded.

Round 3: Engage Slow-Cooker

Stay tuned (and maybe cross your fingers).

Caramelized Onion and Chestnut Stuffing

Bon Appétit  | November 1998

Serves 8-10

  • 1 pound country-style French bread or regular French bread, crust trimmed, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
  • 6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter
  • 2 large onions, chopped
  • 2 tablespoons chopped fresh rosemary
  • 3 celery stalks, chopped
  • 1 7- to 8-ounce jar vacuum-packed steamed chestnuts, quartered (about 2 cups)
  • 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley
  • 1 cup canned low-salt chicken broth
  • 2 eggs, beaten to blend


Preheat oven to 400°F. Spread bread cubes in single layer on large rimmed baking sheet. Bake until golden brown, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Transfer to large bowl; cool.

Melt butter in heavy large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions and sauté 10 minutes. Add rosemary; sauté until onions are golden brown, about 10 minutes longer. Add celery and sauté until beginning to soften, about 5 minutes. Add chestnuts and stir to blend. Transfer onion mixture to medium bowl. Mix in parsley. Add broth to skillet and bring to boil, scraping up any browned bits. Add to onion mixture. (Bread and onion mixture can be made 1 day ahead. Cover separately. Store bread at room temperature; refrigerate onion mixture.) Stir onion mixture into bread. Season with salt and pepper. Mix eggs into stuffing.

To bake stuffing in turkey:
Loosely fill main cavity with cool stuffing. Butter glass baking dish. Spoon remaining stuffing into prepared dish. Cover with buttered foil, buttered side down. Bake stuffing in dish alongside turkey until heated through, about 20 minutes.

To bake all of stuffing in baking dish:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter 13 x 9 x 2-inch glass baking dish. Transfer stuffing to prepared dish. Cover with buttered foil, buttered side down, and bake until heated through, about 30 minutes.

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