{Recipe Share} Easy Homemade Soft Pretzels

Here it is: that amazing soft pretzel recipe I promised some of you.  This batch was extra special because my husband actually formed most of the pretzels.

Soft Pretzels

4 teaspoons yeast + 1 teaspoon sugar + 1 1/4 cup warm water

3 1/2 cups flour plus an additional 1/2 cup

2 Tablespoons butter, melted

1/3 cup sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt (plus more for garnish)

heaping 1/4 cup baking soda

2 cups water

melted butter for topping

In a small bowl or liquid measuring cup, dissolve water, sugar and yeast. Let sit for 10 minutes (until frothy). Meanwhile, mix together sugar, salt, and 3 1/2 cups flour in a large bowl. Using finger or spoon, create a small well in the center of the mixture. Pour melted butter followed by yeast mixture into the well. With a wooden spoon, mix until combined. Using either a stand mixer with dough hook or your hands, knead dough, slowly adding additional 1/2 cup flour.  Knead for 4-6 minutes if using mixer, 7-10 minutes if using hands.

Turn oven to 400 degrees F for 1 minute and then turn off.  Lightly oil large bowl and transfer dough.  Cover with a dampened lightweight towel and place inside warmed oven.  Let rise for 1 hour or until doubled in size.

Remove dough from oven and set heat to 425.  In another bowl, microwave baking soda and water for 3 minutes.  Stir until baking soda dissolves.  Oil or lightly flour your surface and turn out the dough.  Divide into 12 equal sections.

Roll each piece into a rope (the "jump rope" method--holding each end and swinging dough--works well).  Twist each piece into a pretzel.  Gently dip pretzels into the hot water/baking soda mixture and transfer to a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper (6 pretzels per tray).  Sprinkle with kosher salt and bake on middle rack for 8-10 minutes or until browned.  Remove and brush with melted butter.

Once cooled, store in an airtight container or freeze for future use.

***

These are so tasty.  We may or may not have devoured all twelve in one night...

Enjoy!  Tell me what you think!

*NOTE: This recipe from Pink Pistachio.

Joanne Ozug at Fifteen Spatulas has a great recipe for these as well.  The dough only needs to raise for 30 minutes rather than an hour.  That one requires instant rise yeast.  If you try both recipes, let me know which one is your favorite!

A Bouquet of Dirty Laundry

The other day, as I took our wet laundry from the washer to transfer to the dryer, I noticed a white something peeking out from one of the husband's dark shirts that had just been washed.  I pulled it out, and sure enough, it was one of his undershirts.

I had let one get by me.

It is part of my routine to pull out Preston's underclothing from his pants and shirts as I sort clothes to be put away or laundered.  When we first got married I did not know to look for these hidden clothes and often accidentally washed his light clothing with our darks.  Now I almost instinctively reach for those hiding undergarments.

I'll admit that sometimes I still get so frustrated by extra, unnecessary jobs like this.  I find myself thinking, 'Honestly, how hard is it to separate clothing once removed?' or 'How difficult is it to take the dish with you when you stand up?'  As newlyweds in our tiny apartment, we'd walk around the kitchen in circles, he in front, opening cupboards to retrieve an item, and me in back, shutting them after he moved on, huffing and puffing in exaggerated annoyance.  It was, in truth, a bit laughable.  I began to call these little habits "Signs of Preston"--things that reminded me that he was here, with me, whole and well.  ({This} unnerving experience last year served as a great motivator to be grateful for this man of mine.)

However, for the most part, I am over these frustrations.

You see, I found my "go-to."  You know, that one thing you know will express love?  Yep: It's as simple as pulling out those white shirts.

By common stereotype, men can just buy flowers.  Women don't have it so easy.  I tried hidden notes, surprise picnics, creative gifts.  Once, I bought Preston a plant.  I complained to him that girls can't just up and go to the store to buy men flowers for a quick "I love you," and he returned my moaning with a why not.  So I got him a plant.  And I ended up watering it and watching it die.

One day, after a particularly exhausting work load, Preston walked in the door, kicked off his shoes, dropped his bag on the floor, and slumped on the couch, propping his feet up with a sigh.  After hanging up his bag and putting away his shoes I sat next to him and asked about his day.  He began to tell me about work but then stopped, grabbing my hand and looking me in the eye.  "Thank you," he said, "for everything you do for me."  Surprised by his turn, I just looked at him.  He began to list off the things he was grateful for: my putting away his shoes and bag, my doing the laundry, my closing his cupboard doors, my making the bed, my patience with his idiosyncrasies, my cooking dinner, my washing the dishes.

That's when I realized that I had my go-to.  All of my huffing and puffing around the kitchen tying up loose ends was accomplishing exactly what I had been seeking: to show my husband how much I truly loved him.

And now whenever I find myself tempted to roll my eyes at an abandoned cereal bowl or an open cupboard, I remember that taking care of those things is much easier than buying flowers.  Really, it's win-win--I love an orderly house and my husband deserves to feel loved.  And by every morning pulling out that white undershirt stuck beneath its counterpart, I am accomplishing both.

Thanks for being so lovable, husband.

~K

DISCLAIMER:  I do need to clarify that Preston is actually a very clean fellow and a pretty tidy one, too.  Also, he likes grocery shopping, which I hate, so he is allotted at least 5 pieces of strewn clothing for every shopping trip he takes in my stead.

Tales: Air-Born and Starving

Being hungry makes me do things I otherwise would not.

In college, while on a ten hour flight home from London, I asked the sophisticated British grandmother next to me if she was "going to eat that," gesturing to her unopened packaged roll from dinner.  I had already scarfed down all of my food and the flight attendants would be coming by soon to pick up the trash.  She looked at my empty plate, paused to consider this bold, thrifty American way, and then with a little bit of youthful pep said, "Oh, well, no, I am not.  You eat it."  As she leaned away from her food to give me space to grab the precious roll, she let out a reserved, very British smile.

When I think back to that moment, I am often shocked at myself.  I'm sure I figured that asking about her uneaten food was no big deal since we had already been seat mates for hours.  We'd talked about politics, her children and how they loved horses and dogs more than her desire for grandchildren ("Truly British," she'd said.  "Dogs and horses."), her husband, her travel plans, and other little life details.  I guess sharing food was the only thing left to develop in our air-born relationship.  Or maybe I simply considered that in a few more hours I would never see her again.  Either way, at times I am shocked that I did such a thing.

And then there are other times when I am not so shocked--like right now as I sit on a plane, slowly nibbling my fifth package of Biscoff cookies within three days with a narrow hope that wheat flour, sugar, and vegetable oil can hold me over until landing when I can finally scavenge for food.  At times like this I cease to believe that my actions on that plane home from London were irrational.

For some people it's love, for others money.  For me, it's totally food.

{Recipe Share} That Fling...er...Sandwich I Told You About

For those of you who follow my Instagram you already got a sneak peak at the mouth watering sandwich I'm about to present.  Holy heaven it is good.  This is the kind of sandwich that actually has a recipe--in other words, a little prep time and cooking is involved before the actual "sandwiching" part.  I know, I know.  Some of you are thinking that this so called sandwich has now crossed the line.  It defies what as children we thought a sandwich should be--fast and easy with little prep and little clean up.  But let's face it, we've grown up.  Our sandwiches can now go beyond unscrewing a lid and wielding a butter knife.

And let me tell you, many a sandwich will ever only dream of being this good.  With just a little effort this baby makes the cut of amazing, high class sandwiches.  It's good enough to eat for dinner.

For the record, as a kid, by principle, I did not like sandwiches. "Don't mix my food" was my motto.  It wasn't until I worked at a restaurant that served beautiful sandwiches that I realized the potential of the various mixings between two slices of bread.  Especially when ciabatta and a griddle was involved.  I was introduced to some flavor combinations that just can't fail.  Spinach, artichoke, and cheese (preferably asiago) is one of those combinations.  When I stumbled on this sandwich I knew I had to try it.

I have now eaten this thing twice in less than 24 hours.

Notice the adorable dog?  He didn't get any...

I know, I know.  Enough talk.  Your mouth is drooling and I'm keeping you from your sandwich.  Here is the recipe.  Now go indulge.

Spinach Artichoke Grilled Cheese

Makes 2 sandwiches

2 cloves garlic

1 tablespoon olive oil

Kosher salt

Fresh spinach – enough for about 3 cups chopped

Canned artichoke hearts – about 3 (around 6 ounces)

2 tablespoons sour cream

1 cup shredded cheese (I used a mozzarella and swiss blend, but I wish I'd had asiago on hand; monterray jack would also be good)

4 pieces bread

Butter or olive oil for your bread

Dice the 2 cloves garlic. Chop the artichokes. Wash and stem the spinach, then chop it coarsely.  (I used my food processor but I suggest not letting your spinach leaves get too fine, as the recipe suggests.)

Heat about 1 tablespoon olive oil in a skillet. Add the garlic and saute for 30 seconds. Then add the spinach and a pinch of kosher salt, and saute for a few minutes until just limp. Add the artichokes and saute for another minute or so, until heated through. Drain off any liquid from the pan. Stir in 2 tablespoons sour cream and another pinch of kosher salt.

Spread butter (or olive oil) on one side of each of the 4 bread pieces. Heat a panini griddle/griddle pan to medium high heat. Place 2 pieces of bread on the griddle, buttered side down. On each piece, spread some shredded cheese, the spinach artichoke filling, some more cheese (1/2 cup cheese per sandwich), and the other piece of bread.  Cook until the cheese is melted, flipping the sandwich if necessary..

(Follow this link to view the recipe source)

Bon Appetit!

A Fourth Cup of Pero, Please

On bitter cold days in Indiana that begin in the negatives and only with chimerical hope reach 8 degrees even in the sun, I ignore my afternoon plans to run errands and instead drink endless mugs of hot Pero or honey cinnamon tea while making homemade chili and cornbread and folding laundry to the background noise of a semi-final women's Australian Open tennis match replay, and rather than feeling holed-up I become quite contented with my cozy day, knowing that I braved the -25 degree wind chill at 6:30 a.m. to get to the gym and can now do whatever it is that I want.

Stay warm today, friends.

~K

{Dear Martha Anne} Worth Remembering

Dear Martha Anne,

The holidays of 2013 were a total dream.  We are back in the Midwest curled up in our cozy living room, our families over a thousand miles away.  I'm sad to see the season go.  Yet 2014 promises some great adventures that I welcome with an eager heart.

Before I jump into 2014, however, I need to linger just a moment longer on the wonderful month we spent with family and friends.  An abundance of food, games, music, blankets, caroling, parties, family, friends, and love carried the days away too swiftly.  We played too many games of Settlers of Catan and Ticket to Ride to number, had too many rounds of Mario Cart and Mario Party to count.  At Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, I had the pleasure of sharing my bench with a white dove most likely seeking shelter from the snowy night.  On New Year's Eve, I began the celebration crammed under a couch, the rest of my family spread out in other dark corners of the house, the note on the front door directing our expected guests to "seek us."  It became a night of loud laughter and silly games that kept us going long past the chime of midnight and a new year.

In the process of such memory making it became harder and harder for the husband and I to imagine returning to school and our faraway home, but in a moment of serendipity I found this note I wrote to myself a couple of months ago:

As hard as it is to leave our place of roots, I remember how much I believe in travel.  You learn things when you uproot and move.  As happy and comfortable as we were in Cedar City, I can't imagine staying that way now that I know the stretch it takes to "adventure"--to meet new people, expand your horizons, try out a new place and culture.  Once again, I get the feeling of what a big world it is and how much there is to be had and learned by exploring it.

I look forward to traveling this world even more, running its beauty through my fingers and saturating myself in its wonders.  Before I go bounding off, though, I want to leave a look of one of our last, most beautiful days home.

Happy New Year, Martha Anne.  We may not see you soon, but we know where home is.

Love,

K

Our Year in Review: 2013

Well hello, hello.  The husband, pooch, and I have been checked out for about a month and are getting ready to return home after a long vacation in Utah with family and friends.  Having taken a break from the blog for this whole stretch, I sincerely questioned whether I wanted to keep it up.  But it feels good to get back to documenting our life together and the adventures we're having; 2014 promises to present quite a few itself.

But until we are back home and exercising our routines, 2014 can wait, despite the calendar's urging.

For some reason, 2013 is more of a blur than years past.  I feel like the whole year happened between August and December.  But I know life had to have happened in those other months, too.

Here is the skinny on our 2013:

January -- We spent some valuable time with family, and plenty more time playing in the snow.

February -- With only work and no school on our plates, the husband and I had many nights of dinner, movies, games, and late-night chit chats.  It truly was a blessed, carefree time.

March -- I participated in my first (and, so far, only) triathlon, we sold my Jeep, and we spent a fun week in Mexico for spring break.

April -- The Boston Marathon tragedy occurred.  Preston and I decided on Purdue for graduate school.  We had a mini-vacation in Chicago that was delightful.

May -- Preston and I spent our anniversary exploring Seattle and the Oregon coast.  Preston still claims that Oregon is the most beautiful place on earth he has ever seen and can't wait to go back.

June -- I quit my job at the restaurant and started a job with the Utah Shakespeare Festival on the Communications team, and I absolutely loved my time with them.  I also replaced my Jeep with a car that I love.

July -- Preston and I hiked quite a bit, our most extensive effort in behalf of Zion National Park's Subway hike.  Preston moved from his place of residence of nearly 15 years.

August -- I followed Preston after finishing up my work with the Festival.  We adopted the most darling dog on the planet.

September -- We got our first tastes of Big 10 college sports.

October -- Preston and I visited Chicago for a weekend and I discovered the greatness that is Portillo's hot dogs.  We played in Indianapolis for my birthday.  And finally, we topped off the month with a crazy last minute trip to St. Louis for a World Series game.

November -- We nearly got hit by a tornado.  We traveled to Michigan to celebrate Thanksgiving with dear friends from our undergrad days.

December -- Preston made it through his first semester as an MBA student alive and mostly intact.  We flew to Utah to begin a great month of family and friends and holiday celebrating.  Oh, and I decided I no longer dislike the color pink.

I'm looking forward to 2014.  Though we are already a few days in, I am still considering my goals for this next year.  I hope you all find courage and hope in the new beginning that 2014 presents.

~K

PS-See our 2012 review (and my very first blog post) {here}.