That Cake's Not Right!

Before children, my husband and I lived in rural Rogers County (technically, Owasso) in a gray-rock, 1970s era Ranch-style house. I loved everything about this house and all of the memories we made in it.

Our family grew and what once seemed perfect and spacious quickly became cramped and uncomfortable once we added a baby boy and the burgeoning office of a busy moonlighting engineer.

The best feature of this house was the large galley kitchen with counter space galore. Many memorable parties, family meals, and holiday gatherings took place in that cozy kitchen. Since I love to cook, that's where I spent most of my time. Once, I offered to host a Pampered Chef party for a friend who was just getting started as a consultant. I think I bought half of her catalog that day.

The best part about a Pampered Chef party is that consultants bring recipes to try. On the day of the party, my friend whipped up a Caesar pasta salad dish and a lovely veggie pizza. She also brought the recipe for a Lemon-Blueberry Cake. As I am prone to do, I read through the steps of the recipe. Halfway through, I said, "You do WHAT?" I was so taken aback by the instructions that I asked my friend, "Have you ever made this before?" She shook her head "no."

This had to be a colossal misprint. The recipe starts with a regular yellow cake mix, any brand. You make the cake as directed on the box and then add the zest of a lemon (using the Pampered Chef Zester Tool, of course). Then, you boil water in a measuring cup and slowly add a package of lemon jello. After dotting the cake batter with fresh or frozen blueberries, YOU POUR THE JELLO MIXTURE OVER THE TOP OF THE CAKE BATTER!

My mother made beautiful birthday and wedding cakes. Indeed, everything I know about baking, I owe to her. She taught me not only how to make and assemble cakes, but how to frost and decorate them. Since she was the oracle of all things baked, we waited patiently for her arrival at the party. As soon as she walked in the door, I summoned her to the kitchen.

"Mom, have you ever heard of a recipe where you pour hot Jello over cake batter and then bake it?" She had not. My mother was very adventurous. She suggested that we give it a whirl. "What's the worst that could happen? If it's a flop, I'll run down to Braum's and pick up some ice cream. Your guests will not go without dessert!" Do you see why I loved my Mom so much?

This is a picture of my Mom and Dad with Gina and I in late 1972. My brother, Brad, came along in 1978.

So I made the cake using the exact measurements and directions. As expected, it looked terribly, disastrously wrong. I said a little prayer as I placed the big hot mess I'd made into the oven. I turned on the light and peeked into the little window of the oven multiple times to check its progress. When the timer went off, I was amazed to find that the cake looked and smelled luscious. The blueberries and Jello had sunk to the bottom and created an amazing jelly-like layer, while the cake itself rose to the top and made a lovely, sponge-like cake layer.

After allowing it to cool and sprinkling it with powdered sugar, I served this tasty (and very odd) cake to my guests, who said it was super-good.

Here's the recipe for The Pampered Chef's Lemon-Blueberry Cake:

1 yellow cake mix, prepared per directions on the box
1 tablespoon lemon zest
2 cups fresh or frozen blueberries
1 1/2 c. water
1 package (6 oz.) lemon-flavored gelatin
Powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix cake as directed on box. Add lemon zest to batter and stir to combine. Pour batter into a 9x13-inch baking dish which has been lightly sprayed with non-stick cooking spray. Sprinkle the blueberries over the cake batter. Microwave water on HIGH until boiling. Add gelatin slowly to water and stir until dissolved. Pour gelatin over top of batter. (Yes, you read that right!) Bake for 30 to 35 minutes or until toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool and sprinkle with powdered sugar over top of cake.

Everyone who tries it, likes it and when I give the recipe out, it always comes with a warning about how weird the cake is going to look going into the oven. It saves me those unnecessary 9:30 p.m. phone calls when I'm trying to veg out in my pajamas with a glass of wine and the Real Housewives of Wherever (yes, I watch them all. As if I don't have enough drama in my life, right?)

One last thing: you really must refrigerate any leftovers. It's a very moist cake and will begin taking on the qualities of a science experiment if you leave it out too long.

My little galley kitchen in Owasso is now a distant memory. I have a nice big kitchen here in Claremore and it's also Party Central. It's the people who make a house a home.

Aunt Isabelle's Stacked Enchiladas

I was born into the most amazing family. As a result, I had one of the best childhoods any young person could hope for. I suppose that's why I do what I do for a living. I want all kids to have a shot at having a childhood like mine. I had amazing parents, wonderful siblings, cool cousins, and lots of loving aunts and uncles. I was truly blessed, this much I know.

My maternal grandparents (Gram and Pop) lived in a cabin at Whipporwill Point near Hulah Lake in Osage County, Oklahoma. Aunt Isabelle and Uncle Bob lived in a mobile home just a stone's throw from the cabin. I have lots of stories about times spent at the lake with Gram, Pop, Aunt Isabelle, and Uncle Bob. Here's a picture of Aunt Isabelle and Uncle Bob with my Great Aunt Melba (seated):

Aren't they cute? Whenever we'd visit Gram and Pop, Pop would always take out his coin holder (it was one of those rubber ones you squeeze open - remember those??) and give each of us grandkids a quarter or two. Then, my sister Gina and I would proceed to wheedle and whine until Mom and Dad let us walk up the road to Zona's, a convenience store/bait shop/beer tavern, to shop for penny candy. Hey, it was the 1970s in rural Osage County.

One afternoon, while coming back from Zona's with our treasure, a thunderstorm blew up (imagine that - a freak thunderstorm in Oklahoma!), which announced its presence with a huge clap of thunder. Pop and Uncle Bob were sitting on Uncle Bob's porch hanging out and smoking. As soon as we heard it, Gina and I took off running across the field in front of Uncle Bob's house headed for the cabin, because Mom had scared us spitless about getting struck by lightening.

My sister and I were beanpoles. Pop and Uncle Bob got quite a kick out of watching our arms and legs flailing by as we girls ran screaming and caterwauling across the pasture right in front of them.

This is a picture of me and my little cousin, Tammy, Aunt Isabelle's granddaughter, sitting on the picnic table at Gram and Pops. I'm the one styling in the glasses and the halter top. Remember, it was the 70s.

Uncle Bob used to call me "Andrew." He said once, "Angela Dawn, I like you so much, I wish you were a boy. I'm going to call you Andrew." And he did. Every time I saw him, Uncle Bob would say, "Well, there's Andrew." Everybody else called me Angela Dawn. Not Angela. Angela Dawn. Still today, a grown woman with children of my own, my family calls me Angela Dawn. I don't mind it. The way my name rolls off of their tongues, I know they love me.

Often, during these visits to the lake, Aunt Isabelle would make enchiladas and invite all of us over for supper. I don't know who started calling them "Izzy's Enchies," but that is the name that stuck.

Not only are they absolutely delicious, they are easy to make. You can literally come home from work and have them on the table in less than 30 minutes. And, there is no stuffing or rolling of tortillas involved. These are stacked enchiladas.

To make them, you will need:

1 lb. ground beef
1 can Old El Paso Enchilada Sauce (mild, medium, or hot, whichever you can stand)
2 cans Ranch Style beans
1 package corn tortillas
3 T. olive oil
3 c. shredded cheddar cheese
1 head lettuce, shredded
1 tomato, chopped
4 green onions, sliced (optional)

Brown and drain the hamburger meat. Add the enchilada sauce and beans to the ground beef and stir together. Heat the mixture through. While the sauce is heating, place cheese in a bowl, shred the lettuce, chop the tomato, and slice the green onions. Place each in a separate bowl. I make a topping station by lining the bowls up in this order: cheese, lettuce, tomato, and green onion. Meanwhile, in a frying pan, heat the olive oil. Get out a stack of corn tortillas. Place a tortilla in the hot oil, cooking it very briefly on each side until it is pliable. Use a fork to flip the tortilla and retrieve it from the hot oil. Don't cook the tortilla too long or it will get tough. Place the cooked tortilla on a plate, ladle on some sauce and top with cheese. Repeat the layers again (or even a third time, depending on how hungry you are!) and after topping the final layer with cheese, top with lettuce, tomatoes, and onion.

The only drawback to this recipe is that the cook has to stand at the stove and make each plate, which usually means that the cook eats last. Oh, well...it's worth the sacrifice.

I will leave you with a picture of my wonderful Reynolds family:

Top row is my Gram (Ruth Darlene); Great Grandma Lula; Aunt Isabelle; and Aunt Alma. Seated on the floor are Aunt Shirley; Uncle Tommy; Aunt Melba; and Aunt Patsy. I love them all!

Mom Letter: Listen To The "Still Small Voice"

Dear Jared and Jade:

You may remember a song we sing at church sometimes. It's just one line, repeated three times: "Be still and know that I am God." It's the first line of the verse of scripture found in Psalms 46:10. Today's letter is about listening to that still small voice of God.

Many people call the still small voice "intuition." Others say it's "a sixth sense." Still others may say it's pure luck or karma. But if you believe in God (and I do), the still small voice is something you instantly know is God getting your attention.

Sometimes, the still small voice tells you to recheck the locks on your car door. Other times, the still small voice reminds you to turn off the coffee pot. From time to time, the still small voice will urge you to take a different route to work or school. Later, you may hear about an accident that occurred on the road you didn't take.

Several times, the still small voice has told me to go to your cribs and check that you're okay. Yes, I've hovered over you many times in your sleep. I've prayed by your bedsides. I've kissed your soft cheeks as you slept unaware that I was even in the room. That's what Moms (and Dads) do.

I'm not sure how to tell you to identify the still small voice. It's different for every person. For me, it's usually a thought, especially when I am busy thinking about something else. It feels sometimes like a tap on my shoulder. There is an overwhelming sense of urgency that accompanies it.

I've never regretted listening to the still small voice, but I have ignored it a couple of times with disastrous results. Staying tuned to the still small voice isn't easy to do in this crazy world of instantaneous communication, hectic schedules, and loaded down to-do lists.

The way I find best to plug into the still small voice is through quiet time, reading my Bible, and prayer. Turn off the television, the computer, the hand-held devices, the games, and the cellular phone. Enjoy the stillness. Think of yourself resting in the palm of God's hand. Don't expect the still small voice to speak every time, but be open to its gentle presence and leading.

Your father practices his quiet time through his photography. In fact, the picture that heads this post is a sunrise he captured recently. He finds God and the still small voice in nature.

While we're on the subject of God and faith, please remember that everyone experiences God differently. I try to be sensitive to the faith traditions of people around me. People worship God in different ways. Some people call God by a different name. And there are lots of people who don't believe in God or who choose not to have a relationship with Him. That is their business, not yours.

There are lots of ways to worship God. Some ways of worshiping God I enjoy. Others, I don't. I respect that other people do enjoy those methods of worshiping God and I don't think it's my place to look down on them for it. It's a matter of taste and style.

There are two principles that I think are very important for Christian living. The first is to love God and be in relationship with Him. The second is to love people. In loving people, we have to give them the space and the time to make up their own mind about God. Watch out for people who say they know a lot about God, or who act as though they've got God figured out. The people I respect the most are the ones who admit that they don't know everything.

Whatever you decide about God and the still small voice, I will always love you and you will always be in my prayers. Don't think that you always have to agree with me on this subject. My mother and I believed very differently on certain matters of faith. I respected my mother's beliefs, even though I didn't necessarily agree with her always. Sometimes, that was really difficult, but always we were united in our love and mutual respect for one another. This is the relationship I hope to have with both of you as we grow old together.

Much love always,

Mom

Shrimp Boil

Once upon a time, before my husband and I had children, we used to go out for dinner with friends. This was the mythic time of free-flowing adult beverages, uninterrupted conversations, and nowhere to go and nowhere to be. There was never a bedtime and nary a high chair or diaper bag in sight. Two birthing experiences later, I can almost remember it.

One of our favorite haunts was an unrepentant dive at 15th and Memorial in Tulsa - The Cajun Boiling Pot. It was filled with booths covered in bright orange naugahide and prominently featured at the front of the restaurant was a horse trough full of cold longnecks, where customers helped themselves. In retrospect, I always wondered if this passed muster with state beverage laws.

You've got to love a place where the beer is plentiful and cold. There were no dishes, just a large piece of butcher paper and a roll of paper towels. The only utensil was a bread knife, with which to butter a piece of white sandwich bread served in a basket. There were two things on the menu - shrimp boil hot or shrimp boil mild. And you ordered by the person.

The waitress would come out carrying a large Dutch oven and dump the concoction - shrimp, corn-on-the-cob, onion, kielbasa sausage, red potatoes, and sometimes snow crab legs or crawdads (for an extra charge) on your table, stopping long enough to deposit cocktail sauce and a vat of melted butter for dipping.

Your fingers were your only utensils. I have a strong memory of people slurping on their fingers. There also was a small stage in the corner and live country music on most nights, especially Friday and Saturday. This was redneck dining at its finest. My husband and his friends were in "Hog Heaven."

You can imagine the crying and gnashing of teeth that occurred when, without ceremony, The Cajun Boiling Pot closed. Could those forgotten beverage laws have had something to do with it?

We retreated to other favorite restaurants to lick our wounds, suck Old Bay seasoning from beneath our fingernails, and wax poetic over the contents of that Dutch oven.

Then, one evening, I became convinced that I, too, could boil shrimp. I mean, really, how hard could it be? The result was so good that my husband pronounced it "as good as The Cajun Boiling Pot," which I consider the ultimate compliment, coming from him. Best of all, it was so easy to make that it became a favorite, easy weeknight dish.

Here's how you can enjoy fine redneck dining, too:

1 bottle of beer, any kind (try O'Douls if you're into non-alcoholic options)

2 c. water

2 to 3 tablespoons Old Bay Seasoning (more or less, to taste)

1 T. salt

1 onion, quartered

1 package small boiling potatoes, red or yellow-skinned

9 frozen sweet corn on the cob halves

1 package smoked turkey sausage, cut into 1-inch dice

2 lb. raw shrimp in shells, frozen

Tabasco sauce, optional

1 stick butter, plus 1/2 stick more

2 c. ketchup

3 to 4 tablespoons creamed horseradish

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 large French bread

Using a large Dutch oven on your stovetop, heat the entire bottle of beer, water, salt and Old Bay Seasoning until boiling. If you like spice, use more Old Bay, if you like less, use less. You can also add dashes of Tabasco sauce to spice it up even more, if you wish. Add potatoes and onion quarters. Boil until nearly done, about 10 minutes. Add corn and sausage. Heat through. Finally, add raw shrimp. Cook shrimp just until pink. Meanwhile, place 1 stick of butter in a microwave-safe bowl and microwave just until melted. To make a lovely cocktail sauce, in a separate small bowl, mix together ketchup, horseradish (again to taste, add more if you want it hotter), and lemon juice. A couple of shakes of Tabasco in the cocktail sauce never hurt anybody. Slice French bread in half lengthwise, butter with 1/2 stick on both sides and place on a sheet pan. Bake until nicely crisped. Cut into slices.

To serve, remove the Shrimp Boil from the boiling liquid with a slotted spoon. Place on a large serving platter. Put melted butter and cocktail sauce on the table and place sliced bread on a serving platter. Let family members serve themselves. To make this dish extra-special and company-worthy, add crab legs to the pot. Hint: an additional plate for scraps, such as shrimp shells, corn cobs, crab shells, etc. will be greatly appreciated by diners. Or, if you're a redneck, just spread old newspapers on the table and let it rip!

Trust me...this one will become a family favorite!

Mom Letter Number One To My Children

Dear Jared and Jade:

Very often, I feel like Charlie Brown's teacher in the cartoon "Peanuts."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ss2hULhXf04

Mwah mwah mwah mwah waaaahhhh...

I know you don't hear me half of the time. I know you fall asleep like Peppermint Patty because I see the glazed look in your eyes. I know I bore you stiff with my constant yammering. I've tried to be interesting, scintillating even. I've yelled and screamed to get your attention. I've shed tears, stormed off, and pouted. I just want a minute of your time.

This is my latest project...Mom Letters. My hope is that one day, you will find a kernel of knowledge in these pages. Maybe it will be easier to read it than to hear it over and over again. This is my prayer.

The topic of today's letter is People You Will Meet In Your Life. There are so many interesting and unusual people in the world. It's like a huge sociology experiment! I enjoy watching people. Especially at the Tulsa State Fair. Seriously. Grab a corn dog (funnel cake for Jared) and a lemonade and just watch the humanity as it strolls by. Fascinating!

There are also mean people in the world who don't care one bit about you. You've probably already met a few of them. These folks see you walking through this world so happy and carefree, they just can't resist stretching out a foot to trip you.

Get back up. Dust yourself off and just keep going with a smile on your face. Remember the Japanese proverb, "Fall down 7 times, get back up 8."

You will meet Critical Chris. You can always rely on this person to find something wrong about you. Critical Chris laughs about how fat or skinny you are, or how tall or short you are. If you fall down or accidentally sneeze out a booger, Chris will be there to laugh hysterically. Before you know it, half the school will know. Often, Critical Chris will say something derogatory about your clothes, especially if your clothing isn't from Abercrombie and Fitch. When I was a kid, it was Izod, and I remember wanting an Izod shirt so badly. When I did get one, it didn't make me feel any better about myself. It was just a regular polo shirt with a creepy green alligator patch sewn onto it. It wasn't any better than any of the other shirts I had. Critical Chris feels so badly about himself that he has to make you feel bad, too. But don't let him steal your joy...not for one second. Critical Chris's are miserable bullies who have nothing better to do than torment people. And as Sweet Brown, one of my favorite Oklahoma philosophers says, "Ain't nobody got time for that!"

You will meet Popular Penelope. This person is the Queen Bee of the school, the most popular girl. Her blonde hair and blue eyes instantly get everyone's attention. Popular Penelope travels around in a pack with other girls who want to be just like her. You may find Popular Penelope attractive. Everyone does. Everyone wants to be her friend. The only problem is, you have to try to be something you're not to get close to her. Watch the movie "Mean Girls." That girl Regina George...she's Penelope. There's a reason why all of the kids in the school call her and her friends "The Plastics." When you get older, you'll understand that all of Penelope's nonsense is an effort to set up a pecking order. It's a really sad leftover from our vestigial brains and makes us no better than animals fighting for survival on the Serengeti. Don't worry if you get labelled a nerd, an outcast, or something else. When you go back to your 10-year high school reunion, you'll find that the people who thought they were hot in high school aren't any more and the people who were loners and outcasts have turned out great and have done some very interesting things. You'll be one of them, I just know it!

You will meet Stewart Screw-Up. Unfortunately, Stewart Screw-Up is robbing a village somewhere of it's idiot. Stewart's main goal in life is to PAR-TAY and he'll snort, drink, or swallow anything he can to get a nice buzz going. Stewart doesn't care about school because he's far too busy having a good time. He's living in the moment. Goals? "What are those?" Stewart will ask you. I am sorry to report that I dated more than my fair share of Stewart's. They are fun to be around, no doubt about it. Like me, you'll even want to "save" a Stewart or two. But Stewart Screw-Up has to figure this journey out on his own. Unfortunately, he often has to slide further down the drain before he "gets it." Don't go down with him.

There are also nice people. You will meet Quinton The Quiet Guy. Everybody ignores poor Quinton. He's not the first person you notice when you walk in the room. He's not like Penelope and Stewart. He's more chameleon-like...he blends into the wallpaper. He's usually very smart and interesting, but nobody's taken the time to figure it out yet. Take the time to get to know Quinton. You'll have to speak first, because he won't take the initiative. He's too shy for that. You'll be surprised to know what you and Quinton have in common and you'll likely have a friend for life. Everyone deserves to be noticed and heard.

Then there's Tess the Terrific Teacher. Tess loves a curious mind. She will challenge you, make you work hard, test the limits of what you think you can do, and encourage you to reach for the stars. You may despise Tess at first. You may be tempted to leave her class and go to a classroom where the teacher doesn't expect that much. Tess is every good student's friend. She loves to help children learn new things. God places teachers like Tess in our lives for a reason. I've had several Tess's in my life. The way to know you have Tess for a teacher is to listen to her words. If she speaks words of praise and encouragement over you and makes you believe in yourself, you've found your Tess. Hold on dearly to her. She is helping you to grow.

There are so many more people I want to introduce you to, but I'll save those for another letter. Before I close, I want you both to know how much I love you. That will never change. I am your biggest fan!

Love,

Mom

Confession (and Taco Salad): Good For The Soul

A confession is in order before I share this recipe. I fully supported the Women’s Liberation Movement and even though I never marched or burned my bra, I believed deep in my heart that I could have it all.

Today, as I sit at the acme of what can only be described as a towering achievement – life as a nonprofit executive director, wife of one, mother of two amazing children, loyal friend to many and community volunteer – I must admit that I am dead-tired most of the time.

I have come to the conclusion that I, myself, need a wife – not in the conventional sense of the word, but more like a live-in assistant, housekeeper, organizer, chauffer, and cheerleader. Basically, I just need another me. Has there been any headway in cloning technology?

If I had a dollar for every time someone has said to me, “I don’t know how you do it all,” I would be a very rich woman indeed. When someone says that to me, I’m not quite sure if I’m doing it all so well that it appears effortless or if the person feels really sorry for me and this is an offer of help.

I recently ventured halfway around the world on a fabulous trip to India, leaving my dear husband and mother-in-law in charge of this empire I’ve built. Faced with the possibility of a jet crash or death by stampeding elephants, I felt honor-bound to show Mr. Henderson just exactly how his dynamo of a wife keeps this well-oiled machine running on a daily basis. Suffice it to say that I am extraordinarily organized. I’m also a huge fan of black coffee, lists, my trusty label maker, working lunches, and under-eye concealer, which I lovingly refer to as “spackling.”

As I was walking out the door, I showed him my arsenal of 50+ recipes (encased in plastic page protectors) that I rotate around each month to feed our family. He was mightily impressed. Among those recipes are several easy weeknight meals that can be thrown together in a snap: breakfast for dinner; reuben sandwiches; fried rice; and spaghetti with meat sauce.

Our family doesn’t eat out much. Not only is it expensive, but often the food just isn’t as good as something homemade. Don’t even get me started on the portions and calories of restaurant food!

Today’s recipe is a family favorite and can even be spruced up for company. We refer to this concoction as “Taco Salad Night,” “Super Nachos,” or “Taco Pile-On.” You can choose whichever title you like best to describe it.

To make it, you’ll need:

1 lb. lean hamburger meat

1 package Williams Taco Seasoning Mix

1 8 oz. can tomato sauce

1 15 oz. can Ranch-style beans (optional – my kids HATE beans – they are aliens from another planet)

1 bag corn tortilla chips or Fritos corn chips

4 cups shredded cheese (a mix of cheddar and jack cheeses is really nice)

4 cups green leaf lettuce, washed and torn into bite-size pieces

5 scallions, sliced thinly

2 tomatoes, chopped

1 avocado, diced into chunks

8 oz. sour cream

Salsa or taco sauce, to taste

Brown the hamburger and drain any excess oil. Add taco seasoning, tomato sauce, and beans to the pan. Heat through on low heat. Meanwhile, open the bag of nachos. Place shredded cheeses in a bowl. Shred lettuce and place in a bowl. Chop scallions and place in a bowl. Chop tomatoes and place in a bowl. Dice avocado and place in a bowl. Open sour cream and salsa or taco sauce. Place all items on the table and let your family build their own. You can also add jalapenos, French dressing, or any other toppings you enjoy. Leftover chili is also great as a replacement for the taco meat. It’s a very versatile recipe.

Sometimes, I will double or triple the meat recipe and freeze it down for another night. There is a fair amount of clean-up involved because of all the bowls. In moments of supreme laziness, I will sometimes arrange everything on a large tray for extra-easy clean-up. I also wear my leopard-print pajamas while cooking so that I can go right to bed afterwards.

This is how I roll.