Fall begins

Flour on my pants
On my face and hands and hair
Snowy gift from pie

Cannot live on bread alone — but with butter…

There are but a few things in life of which I am quite certain. The first is that almost nothing is certain. The second is that nearly everything is better with ice cream.

The third is that anything that can’t be improved with ice cream can be made whole with a slice of fresh bread.

Baking bread was one of my first culinary endeavors outside the security of Mom’s kitchen, and in the modest one of my first off-campus rental. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew how to follow a recipe. So I opened up my Betty Crocker Cookbook and made the Traditional White Bread. And I’ve never been the same.

I find the process cathartic. The feel of the freshly risen dough is one of my favorite things in the world.

It’s warm and smooth, soft but not sticky, resilient, but gracefully gives way to all your pushing and punching and prodding, transforming from a lumpy mass into a beautifully smooth ball of wonderfulness.

In fact, I rarely make any other bread recipe. And Keith would say I don’t make this one nearly often enough. I know. I know! Where’s the adventure?! Where’s the excitement?!

All that lies elsewhere for now. Because every so often I like to take a mental step back and cozy up with something ordinary, something reliable.

Something I can get lost in, letting my hands wander through familiar territory, while my mind meanders through past and present, the two — mind and hands — rarely making a conscious connection. They both know what to do.

Sometimes I simply need something certain.

And I need it with butter.

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.