Empanadas

**WARNING** The following is NOT intended for the light-hearted, kitchen-fearing mamas or papas! Proceed with great CAUTION!**

So here's the back story:  

We have friends who host a wine-tasting/pairing party each fall. Guests pair up with other couples to compete in categories: Best Wine, Best Food, and the coup (I'm mixing my French and Spanish here, aren't I?): Best Pairing. I, ah-hem, am proud to say that I have been the food-providing part of the winners of Best Pairing for the last 2 years in a row. (I have a secret, but I will not share it here, as I know some of my readers attend this party...) (and yes, I'm a little competitive!) (sorry!)  This last year, our wine-providing friends chose an Argentinean Malbec (a dark colored, full-flavored red wine). And I made Argentinean Empanadas...

First, you need something sunny and fresh to inspire you... mostly because this is a labor-intensive, sweat-producing, feet-hurting recipe. Just sayin'. It is. Truth.

Then, enlist a friend...

...Or two, to keep you company and to help with clean-up, 'cause when you get tired, you might get a little messy.

Watcha need:

Pam, and a little bit o' butter for sauteing onions

2 onions, chopped

1 lb of good quality chopped meat (I used sirloin, or low fat beef)

2 tsp Hungarian sweet paprika (or just sweet paprika)

3/4 tsp hot paprika 

1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes

1 tsp cumin

1 Tbs distilled whited vinegar

1/4 C raisins

1/2 C pitted green olives, chopped

salt and pepper to taste

1 (17.5 ounce) package frozen puff pastry sheets (I used 2 packages)

(The original recipe also called for 2 hard-boiled eggs, and, well... I just couldn't stomach that... eggs, olives, raisins...? Trust me, it's fine without the eggs! I also didn't have any fancy paprika, so I just used my regular paprika in the quantities stated above. Also, just fine!)

Chop, chop, chop away. This is probably the most time-consuming part. I mean, you have to stop every 30 seconds to wipe the tears away! PLLLLeaaasssse!

Saute the chopped meat until cooked through.  Drain very well, and set aside to allow to cool and harden. Stir in the vinegar & cumin. Saute the onions in butter, because, sorry! It tastes best that way. But be careful; use the butter sparingly. If the filling is too greasy, it will affect the dough. Saute until the onions are almost translucent.  Add the paprika & pepper flakes and saute just a few seconds longer. The heat "opens" up the spices and makes the flavors a little more intense.  

Mix together the meat, onion mixture, olives and raisins. (Doesn't that just sound gross? But it is really good. Trust me on this, too!) Salt and pepper to taste. Don't be skimpy with the peppa...

It's about here that your feet might start to hurt. (Did I remember to tell you to wear your favorite, most cushy gym shoes? Definitely do that.)

Cut about 3.5" circles from the pastry. I happen to have the perfect sized plastic monkey cup to accomplish this! I was able to get about 9 circles from each sheet of pastry. And I was thinking about this. If you made bigger circles, you would have bigger empanadas with more filling in each. It would save you time in construction, and you would eat less dough (for you carb-watchers, you!) per serving. Just a thought.

Here's the fun part, and the part where you need to call in your dog friends! Put about a tablespoon of filling in each circle. Use water with your (cleaned) finger along the outside edge of 1/2 of the circle. Be careful to not get the meat mixture on the edges because the grease will prevent the empanadas from sealing. Then, using your fingers, pinch the edges together. And you can sorta wrap the edges around your fingers as you're sealing and make it really pretty (but you don't have to).

Sometimes, they will come out perfectly and look like they are store-bought, like this...

... and sometimes, they'll look more "homemade", like this.

Brush them with egg, put them on a parchment paper-lined cookie sheet, and bake for about 30 minutes at 350 degrees.

For sides, serve with oh-so-easy boxed Spanish rice, chips and home-made guacamole and salsa.  And extra red pepper sauce for those who like it spicy. And red wine. Don't forget the wine.

Serve alfresco (and there's some Italian for ya, too) to an eagerly awaiting, most deserving family. (Did I mention, don't forget the wine?)

This is the way it has to be....

I'm sorry. It just has to be this way. We can no longer be friends. Even though IRL, you might possibly be the most incredible, sweet, talented, loving person I know, I'm through.  And I'm sorry to have to tell you this way, so publicly. Oh, don't act that way! You know who you are!  And I'll tell you. It was the **** beef stew.  I can't keep up! It just pushed me right over the edge! And the fact that you and Leigh Ann are off in Blissdom with all the other bloggers, and I'm probably the only one here now only makes it worse.

Yeah, that's right. In my quest to be a better mother, I decided I would just try that beef stew of yours.  Looked good. Everything you make that I've ever tasted tastes good. But just like those ****shortbread chocolate chip cookies, mine didn't quite turn out like yours.  Ohhhhhhh........ n  n   n  n  o  o  o  o  o  ....  

Got all the stuff to make it with... only the best... all fresh... organic... I chopped and cut and cleaned and got into such a frenzy because -according to calculations- this was a 6-hr undertaking, minimum. 

And it was 2ish when I finally got the beef into the oven the first time.... roughly putting dinner at... oh, I don't know... 8pm?? On a school night!

And then I remembered! In my haste, I had forgotten to salt, pepper, and dredge the beef in flour, making my concoction beef-in-wine, literally. JUST beef-in-wine. Good wine, but still. JUST beef-in-wine. I started to panic, and got back-up dinner...

Oh, and it was about here, that my husband called and said, "Hey. Let's go skiing!" Which, as you know, just isn't THAT simple.... I mean, it's at least an hour away. And there's five of us in total... five to dress, five to pack for, five to feed. And the car! Don't forget the car... need to clean it out so all that ski stuff would fit.  And get gas, 'cause runnin' on empty won't be good on a 9degree night in East Tennessee... you know, where there are no plow trucks and only one salter in five counties (the one that drops a load ON my car E V E R Y darn time). And let's just not talk about the 2 play-dates that were at my house at that very moment. The ones I had to tactfully get rid of. Or the fact that I had to go pick up my middle child from a play date. 

So, as panic set in, I pulled the plug on the stew. Stew it!! I'll just finish it tomorrow. Yeah, that's what I'll do. We'll do the pizza tonight, and wonderful, warm, make-up-for-the-pizza stew tomorrow...

Oh... but wait. It only gets better. 

The next day, back in the oven... all that was left to do... another 3 hours. Time passed and I took it out to check. You know, like you said. Might need more honey/salt & peppa/whatever. And my wine-flavored beef-broth and raw vegetables had absolutely no taste. None what-so-ever. Like, none at all. So, I pull up your blog, re-read the reci... oh. Worsteshire sauce?  Oops. And red pepper? Honey. How did I miss that!?

Now, it's starting to get late. Again. And I'm starting to panic. Again. And why aren't the vegetables cooking?!  I know. I'll turn the oven up, and set it on convection... that'll work.  Where's the rest of that wine. I need the wine. Like, really. I NEED THE WINE.

And another latte. Really. I do. Wine AND coffee. Together. 

 

This, however, won't be enough to  make up for this collossal mess I've created.  I know. Surely they'll forgive me with chocolate chip cookies. The tollhouse kind. You know, the 2 sticks of butter kind.

(Notice the wine, behind the beater.) (And the stew bowls, to the left.)

So, to make a long story a little less long, we did eat that night. About 8pm. 30 hours after it was started. And the stew, in spite of itself (and the 3 times that I added flour and water to try to thicken it), was really awesome. Hmm... in fact, they fought over left-overs the next day....

Hmm.... Sigh. 

So maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe we could still work something out... maybe we could still be friends? Maybe if I made you some chocolate chip cookies...  

(Thanks for the recipe, Edie. Clearly, it's not the stew, just the cook. Do you think people would be surprised to know that I actually, at another time, in another life, created a whole menu of food, that is still ordered from today?)

Pancakes...This One's For You, Edie!

I have these very fond memories from when I was growing up.... My southern-raised mom would make these great, huge breakfasts on the weekend.  It could have been pancakes, french toast, or eggs (to order, of course) and toast. And there was either sausage or bacon, but there was definitely meat. The piece de la resistance - a big pot of grits... oozing with like a stick of butter and sprinkled with a container of salt. I was the only gal in the north who ate grits on a regular basis. And I loved them. (As an adult, I realize it really wasn't the grits... the grits were just a conduit for the butter and salt!)

So, I wanted this for my children, a memory that reinforces how close our family is. I make big, huge breakfasts every weekend. But not like my mom's... we forgo the meat, usually, or substitute turkey sausage/bacon, which really is nothing at all like that really-bad-for-you, greasy, spicy, salty, yummy sausage and bacon. And the grits? Only when we eat out. My pancakes, though, I've been told they're to die for.  My recipe had a basis in Betty Crocker, but has long since evolved, and I want to share it with you. This one's for you, Edie!

 

First, I start with my very own iced latte... can't do anything Saturday or Sunday morning without first consuming at least one iced latte.  Then, mix the wet ingredients...

  1 egg

  1 C milk

1 T oil (less to be healthy, but some to brown the cakes)

  and (here's one secret) 1+ tsp of home-made vanilla

Add the dry ingredient right into the wet... it's not rocket science, and I'm all for minimizing dirty dishes....

   3+ T sugar  (sweet, like the Scandinavian-made -another secret)

   1 T baking powder

   1/2 tsp salt, to control the baking powder!

   1 C flour

Now, in my family, some like them thin and some like them thick, so I either divide the batter & thin one half with milk, or do the thinner ones last, diluting the batter right in the same bowl(fewer dishes, remember?)

I use a cast-iron griddle that sits on top of my burners. My mother-in-law gave this to me years ago... I wonder if she realizes how she's helped in creating cherished family memories for my kids? I have to double stack my burner grates because my fire burns too hot!  (hmmmm...)

(Today, it was about here that my husband walked in on me taking pictures of pancakes, and with the most quizzical look on his face, asked, "WHAT are you doing?" to which I replied, "Getting ready to blog. Ya know, Edie, she....", at which point he interrupted and asked, "Does Edie KNOW she's your hero?" Oh, I'm sure she knows she's many peoples' hero!)

The kids like them with milk chocolate chips baked right in.

Sometimes I get help:

(Ron teaching Lexi how to flip.)

Sometimes we top them with bananas, pecans, and whip topping, and heaven forbid: chocolate syrup! MMmmmmmm....

Serve with REAL maple syrup, preferably imported from my sister's house in Maine; 100% real fruit juice (stawberry banana is the going favorite); fresh sliced pineapple, a memory-keeper from our trip to Maui 4 years ago; and for me, of course, a second or third iced latte.