Peanut Butter Balls

“You don’t have to convince me to eat balls of peanut butter,” Keith interjected from across the room as Mom and I remembered the confections from my childhood. It’s true: he eats it by the spoonful (or fingerful) out of the jar. He does this with frosting too…and considering one of this favorite flavor combinations is chocolate-peanut butter, I was pretty sure he’d like these.

We used to make peanut butter balls when I was a kid, and several years ago when I watched Paula Deen make them on her show, I started craving them again after all those years and years of involuntary peanut butter ball abstinence. But they called for nonfat dry milk, which Keith can’t have, and powdered soy milk wasn’t readily available. So I gave up hope, and eventually forgot about them.

Then a few weeks ago they popped into my head again. Only now, having been around the nondairy substitutions block a few times, I had an idea: ground oats! I started using ground oats last fall to replace a portion of flour when baking oatmeal bar cookies. And I thought that ground oats might just work for this. They’d help absorb the oils and stiffen the confection, but also help to cut through some of the peanut buttery richness.

It turned out good, man. We could have eaten the peanut butter mixture straight out of the bowl. And we did, but not all of it.

Then I did the unthinkable. I took these

and did this:

Now, I’m certainly no Fritz Knipschildt, but I think these look good enough to eat. And they are. They really are.

For peanut butter balls:
18 oz. smooth peanut butter
2 cups confectioner’s sugar
1 1/3 cups ground rolled oats
12 Tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

For chocolate coating:
12 oz. bag chocolate chips (although, truth be told, I ran out of chocolate, so you might need more like 18 oz.)
2 Tablespoons butter

Line a cookie sheet with parchment or waxed paper. Mix all ingredients in a large bowl until evenly combined. Scoop the peanut butter mixture by the rounded teaspoon and form into 1-inch balls, arranging the balls on the parchment-lined sheet. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes, or until very firm. The best way to test is to pick one up, bring it close to your mouth and bite it in half. It shouldn’t be at all squishy. Leather hard, if you’re a ceramicist.

If you desire chocolate covering your peanut butter, pour the chocolate chips and butter in microwaveable bowl (or double boiler). Melt the chocolate and butter, stirring occasionally, until they’re smooth and creamy. Coat the balls in chocolate — you can carefully pour it over top of the balls, or you can do what I did and drop one at a time into the bowl, spin it around or spoon chocolate on top until it’s coated, then lift it out with a fork, tapping the fork on the inside of the bowl a few times to let some of the excess chocolate drip off. Replace the balls on the tray and refrigerate again until chocolate is set.

Makes about 48. Probably more if you don’t eat any out of the bowl.

Serving suggestions: These would be fun for kids to make, to give away at holidays, or for girly bridal and baby showers. These are also really good for breakfast.

Vanilla pudding with strawberries

The even exchange of goods and services tends to benefit both parties.

For example, if a friend has too many strawberries and you have too much vanilla pudding, the obvious solution is to give said friend some vanilla pudding in exchange for some strawberries.

You just can’t go wrong either way. Especially when you add graham cracker crumbs.

Non-dairy vanilla pudding
1 box vanilla Jell-o cook & serve pudding mix (NOT instant pudding)
2-inch section of a vanilla bean
3 cups soy milk
1/2 packet unflavored gelatin

Cook the pudding mix as directed, subsituting soy milk for milk-milk. Split the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and scrape the seeds into the mix. Whisk ingredients together, then — while still whisking — slowly add 1/2 packet of gelatin, then continue to cook as directed.

It isn’t spring yet — let’s make chili!

Just when I was starting to think about the early crocus we should be seeing pop up in our front yard in the next few weeks, Old Man Winter sent a chilly reminder that we are still in his frigid grip. It snowed almost all day before turning into drizzle, which is sure to play hell on the roads, but no matter for now. We have chili.

It took me a while to come around to chili. It’s not a dish I grew up with, even despite the years we spent living in Texas.

But in recent years — after trying a lot of chili I didn’t like, and suddenly stumbling upon one or two I did — I’ve ended up with my own brand of chili, natch. It’s got plenty of heat, but not that bright BAAAAA SPICY heat; it’s that slow heat that warms you up from the inside out. When I was a resident assistant in college, my director — Mississippi born and raised — called it that “too damn late” heat, because by the time it hit you, you’d already swallowed it and it was too damn late. Still, this chili doesn’t have it so much that it sends you running for a glass of milk and a bottle of Tums. In my opinion (and my guinea pigs*) it’s just enough, and perfect for a snowy winter evening.

I think the real beauty of it is that the recipe is so simple. And always imprecise. It’s good to cook slow over a campfire, or a quick-fix at home (like tonight).

You can see how I cherish it.

See this?

This is why it’s so easy. The whole things starts with a pound of Mexican chorizo, and 1-1/2 pounds of ground beef. Have you ever tried chorizo? It’s a spicy sausage that’s wonderful on its own — but when you put it to work in other dishes, like chili, it makes your job a lot easier. Instead of adding loads of herbs and spices and chopping loads of peppers, all you have to do is slit the casings with a small knife and peel it off of the meat. Then I just give the meat a quick, very rough chop, and toss it in a pot with the ground beef to cook.

And while the meat is cooking, I turn on the oven and mix up this stuff. You’ll want to remember this for later.

Because the meat takes a good fifteen minutes or so, there’s plenty of time to chop some onions. I use Vidalias if I can get them, but any two medium sweet onions will do. I like to let the mellow sweetness of the onions act as a counterpoint to the brighter, spicy flavors. You can use red or yellow onions, but it just won’t taste the same.**

When the meat is fully cooked, I remove it from the pot with a slotted spoon, and pile it up on a paper-towel lined plate. The pot should have bright red-orange fat left in it from the beef and chorizo. Fun color. Good flavor. I do not drain the pot, and instead use the fat to cook the onions, seasoned with a few pinches of kosher salt and a few grinds of black pepper, over medium-high heat until they’re soft and just turning translucent — about 5 minutes. THEN you can toss in the 4-5 cloves of garlic that you chopped, but don’t stir it up! Garlic burns easily, and burned garlic is not tasty, so I let it steam on top of the onions for a few minutes while I seed and chop 2-3 jalapeños.

This time around I used 2 jalapeños. Sometimes I use three. Sometimes I only need to use one. But please, oh please, taste them before you go throwing a bunch of spicy peppers into the pot. And wash your hands *really* well after you handle them. Especially if you’re going to rub your eyes.

I don’t use any of the seeds or inner membranes because I just don’t like too much of the bright jalapeño flavor. But you can use the whole pepper — seeds and all — if you want. Or if you want a smokier flavor, fresh poblanos work well too. I toss the pepper on top of the onions and let it steam for a minute, just like the garlic.

Then I simply add 3 14.5-ounce cans of diced tomatoes (juice and all), 2 tablespoons of tomato paste, 5-6 tablespoons of chili powder (for that deep, slow chili flavor), a heaping tablespoon of cumin (warm and sort of woodsy), and stir it all together. And then I add the meat back in, cover and simmer over medium-low for 20-30 minutes.

When you’ve done all that — and this is the MOST IMPORTANT PART — you have to take a clean spoon from the silverware drawer, dip it into the chili pot, removing a small sample of the stew, and after letting it cool for a moment, you eat it. To make sure it’s good. Which it is, natch.

That’s me upside-down in the spoon. Hello! Hey, stop playing around — we’re hungry here. Dish that chili up into bowls.

And remember that sweet corn cake mix from earlier? It happens to come out of the oven just as the chili’s ready for plating — how serendipitous! So pile that sweet stuff on top (sweet corn bread would work too, but this stuff is gooey and mmmmm mmm! good). Then take a picture, because this won’t stick around for long.

*People, not really guinea pigs

**What’s with the candle on the cutting board? It’s a trick I learned from Alton Brown that’s supposed to keep the onions from stinging your eyes. The flame burns the gas or whatever that onions release when you cut them, before it can reach your face and burn your eyeballs out. Or something like that.