Katy's Kitchen - Fresh Strawberry Cupcakes

One of my ongoing goals is to try or create a new recipe each week. I've had this recipe in mind for awhile now, and decided that Valentine's Day was the perfect time to break it out, so I made up a batch and took them to work, where they received rave reviews and had disappeared by noon. Enjoy!

Fresh Strawberry Cupcakes

Ingredients:
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 eggs
1/3 cup buttermilk
1/4 cup oil
1 tsp vanilla extract

2 cups chopped strawberries

Frosting:
1/2 cup chopped strawberries
1/2 tsp. lemon juice
8 oz. cream cheese, at room temperature
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 3/4 cups powdered sugar
1/2 tbsp. vanilla

Directions:
- Preheat oven to 350 degrees and prepare 2 cupcake pans (about 24 cupcakes).
- Sift flour, salt, and baking soda in medium bowl.
- Cream butter and sugar until fluffy.
- Add eggs one at a time until combined.
- Add buttermilk, oil and vanilla until combined.
- Add flour mixture and stir until just combined.
- Fold in berries.
- Fill cupcake pans.
- Bake for 20 minutes.

- For frosting, put berries and juice in saucepan.
- Bring to a boil over medium heat and then reduce to a simmer for 5 minutes.
- Let cool then blend until smooth.
- In bowl of mixer mix cream cheese and butter until creamy.
- Add sugar, then vanilla.
- Add berry puree until smooth.
- Frost cupcakes when they are completely cooled.

Hanging Tough

Ben's has been asking me to post for a while, but I don't have much to write about. That said, here are some pics of our place. Every year we try to get a new piece of art for our place, but we've been slacking for awhile...so now we've made up for lost time.

Katy's Christmas Gift:

This thing was a beast to hang, thus the hole in the wall,

which we just repaired today
(clearly, we're not the handy-est of people despite our last name):

Katy's Valentine's Day Gift:

Our new rug, just because:

Not much is new, but much is good here in the Handfelt household. We're looking forward to some visitors, Ted and Vicki, flying in from California next weekend. Of course, you can count on plenty of eating out and drinks being consumed while they are here. We ensure you that there will be a complete rundown of the festivities posted soon. Otherwise, Ben and I are both busy at work and I have submitted my grad school applications, so I eagerly await news on that front. Carmella is recovering from a day spent stuck in the dresser (don't ask) and thanking her lucky stars that I couldn't convince Ben to let us take in a kitten that a lady at work was looking for a home for. Other than that, we've just been checking out a bunch of movies, ordering Cubs tickets, and anticipating the arrival of spring. Winter is for the birds. On second thought, even they fly south...

Quick and Dirty Oscar Predictions

$500 in spoils are at stake for the winner of our Oscar pool at work, so I've got a vested interest in tonight's festivities. That said, take my recommendations and get on the horn with your bookie, post haste. Lets get to the action:

Best Actor

I'm torn between Mickey Rourke and Sean Penn. The Wrestler was my favorite movie of the year, but Mickey Blue Eyes is a bit of an eccentric a-hole in real life who has more enemies than friends (unless you count small dogs). Plus, I just saw 'Milk' yesterday and Penn was phenomenal. None-the-less, I think the Oscar voters love a good comeback story, and Penn already has one of those golden phallic symbols for his work in 'Mystic River'.

Winner: Mickey Rourke

Best Actress

Winslet vs. Streep. I haven't seen The Reader, but Winslet is the Susan Lucci of the Oscars and her time has come. 6 nominations, no wins. This win was foreshadowed when she appeared on the show 'Extras' and her character lamented that she needed to appear in a Holocaust movie in order to get an Oscar. Well, here you go. Plus the Academy voters are mostly old men and she gets naked a lot (you'll notice a theme here).

Winner: Kate Winslet

Best Supporting Actor

This is a no-brainer. Heath Ledger all the way, even though he didn't get naked. Although no joke, I think he was nude when he died. Too soon?

Winner: Heath Ledger

Best Supporting Actress

Penelope Cruz vs. Viola Davis. Penelope Cruz plays an exotic, untamed object of lust and desire in 'Vicki Cristina Barcelona'. In other words, the unfulfilled fantasy of every Oscar voter. No nudity, but close enough.

Winner: Penelope Cruz, 'Vicki Cristina Barcelona'

Best Director

Danny Boyle is one of the nicest men I've ever met in my life. If pressed, he would probably tell you that I was his BFF. And by pressed, I mean tortured like the protagonist of Slumdog at the beginning of the film. Bread pudding and English tea all around.

Winner: Danny Boyle, 'Slumdog Millionaire'

Best Picture

Ben Button was ok, but soulless. The Reader is too grim, although there is a lot of arty nudity, so it stands a chance. Frost/Nixon has mustered about as much enthusiasm as a root canal. Milk is good, but is it the best beverage of the year? I don't think so. Slumdog Millionaire will add to it's awards cache and inspire millions to finally try that hole-in-the-wall Indian buffet down the street that they've been eyeing with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Winner: Slumdog Millionaire

Other Stuff

Do we really care? Wall E will win best Animated Feature. Benny Button will take a home a lot of the visual effects/makeup awards, because that was really the only thing it had going for it. The Academy will throw The Dark Knight a bone with some boring sound mixing awards that no one cares about. Slumdog and Milk will split the screenplay awards. 'Jai Ho' will win best song, although it's a travesty that Springsteen wasn't nominated for 'The Wrestler'. The show will run a half hour late and afterwards you will proclaim that it 'sucked' and was 'overrated'. Academy voters will feel the same way...it could have used more nudity.

Here's Looking at You Kid

Valentine's Day, for all of it's good intentions, usually means dropping an obscene amount of money on flowers (I know it's the thought that counts, but they die in less than a week!) and restaurant specials that cost twice as much as they do normally. On the other hand, the whole Anti-Valentines schtick is almost just as cliche. Besides, everybody knows, just like when you tell each other that you're not exchanging gifts for Christmas/birthdays, as a husband it's still implied that you have to do something. So this year, I decided to choose cheesy sentiment over self-loathing and depression.

I took Katy to her favorite store, Anthropologie, on Saturday afternoon, and like a good wife, she bought nothing. After that we walked over to the Music Box Theatre, a classic old movie house built in 1929. We went and saw a showing of Casablanca. No, not some horrible Hollywood remake starring Jack Black and Jessica Alba (although I'm sure that's in the works), but the real deal from 1942. They didn't even have blogs back then. Oddly enough, even though I earn my livelihood through the movies, my knowledge doesn't really pre-date 1975. I am woefully under-educated when it comes to Black and White Era, so I had never seen this. (Fun fact: I've never seen Gone With the Wind either.)

The film itself was great, especially seeing on the big screen with 500 other lovebirds, even if the sound quality at times left something to be desired. I was pleasantly surprised to find the movie to be so funny. When I think of humor from that era, I think of The Three Stooges or Milton Berle; slapstick and silly puns. Casablanca on the other hand, was dripping with sarcasm and dry humor and wasn't nearly as cheesy as I thought it would be. (Fun fact: There literally wasn't one scene in the movie where someone wasn't smoking or drinking. Most of the time, both at once. I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't smell like a bar when we left the theatre. Not So Fun fact: I Wikipedia'ed Humphrey Bogart when we got home and found out he died of lung cancer, which made me sad. Let that be a lesson!)

After exercising those metropolitan demons (Seeing an old movie - non porn - at a rundown theatre strikes me as very Woody Allen), we headed back home where I prepared a Valentine's Day feast. To be clear, Katy is the cook of the house. When it's my turn to cook, you can count on the food being frozen in it's infancy and having directions for the oven printed on the back label. I actually went the extra mile this time and found a great recipe for Chicken Parmesan and homemade Garlic Bread. I also stopped off at a local bakery and picked up a couple of chocolate and strawberry tarts. I wrote up the whole recipe over at Pomp Culture. Check it out here.

Tyler Florence of the Food Network deserves some of the credit for that one, as does Katy, who helped me with much of the prep work. But much like with flowers, it's the thought that counts, no? I owned that Chicken Parmesan and soon enough, both Katy and I fell in love with it's gooey goodness. A food based menage trois if you will. Wait, that sounds gross and quite messy. I can't recommend such an affair.

Speaking of affairs and menage trois', we later watched the latest Woody Allen flick (Its all coming full circle now) Vicki Cristina Barcelona. It was a solid, beautifully shot effort by everyone's favorite bespeckled perv, but it was no Casablanca. But we had a great night, so frankly darling, I don't give a damn. (Wait, I think I just mixed up my classic movie quotes. Somebody get me some leftover Chicken Parmesan.)

Garlic Bread, Wine, Chicken Parmesan. Fun Fact: One of my nicknames for Carmella? Parmesan Carm. Did that just blow your mind?

Happy Valentines Day. Or Anti-Valentines Day. And Presidents Day while we're at it.

Katy's Kitchen - Taco Pizza

I don't know if I've mentioned it on the HHH before, but one of my goals that I've had for the last couple of years is to try a new recipe each week. While that doesn't always happen and I'm usually calling for some Thai takeout from the place down the block AT LEAST once a week, there are some Sundays when I get crazy and make like three different things while listening to XRT or a Cubs game on the kitchen radio. I mean, it gets a little embarrassing when the delivery guy dropping off our Pad See Ew recognizes us when we walk by and knows us by name. Lately I haven't been in that kind of cook-up-a-storm Julia Child mood, but last night I tried out a new taco pizza creation. For those of you that live outside of the Midwest, you'll be surprised to hear that taco pizza is an unknown and little seen phenomenon, for as much love as we give it back in Iowa. In all of Chicago, Ben and I have only found it on a menu once in our six years here. Thus, we must create our own...

First, I prepared a ready-to-bake pizza crust (like Pillsbury brand, the kind "out of a can", and yes this is VERY classy) at 400 degrees. Next, I mixed together about 2/3 cup pizza sauce, 2/3 cup taco sauce, and 1/4 cup refried beans until smooth and spread it on the baked crust. This combo sounds weird, but it's the most important part. If you don't like beans, don't worry...you can't really taste them, they just give the sauce a thicker consistency. Then I topped it with about 1 1/2 cups of mozzarella cheese, 3/4 pound of ground beef cooked and seasoned with taco seasoning, sliced black olives, and sliced jalapeno peppers. I popped this in the oven until the cheese was melted and then I topped it with shredded lettuce, chopped tomato, and crushed tortilla chips (Doritos, but regular tortilla chips work too). We served it with optional extra taco sauce, crushed red peppers, and parmesan cheese.

Try it - you be the judge!

Ben's Take: I am often times prone to exaggeration and hyperbole. That said, this pizza will change your life. I immediately proclaimed it to be in my Top 5 Katy recipes, right up there with her enchiladas and coconut shrimp. For those Iowans out there, this is very OP-esque. For the non-Iowans, you probably don't know what taco pizza is. Well, here is your introduction. One taste of this bad boy and you'll cry tears of joy and start speaking in tongues. (Don't worry, that part will eventually pass. Unless you are already fluent in other languages. Or cry a lot.)

I give this recipe with 5 fist pumps out of 5.

Super Hangover

HHH has been in a bit of a creative rut lately, due in part to the winter blahs, Carmella's insistence on an exorbitant 'signing bonus' and most recently, my Super Bowl hangover. I tried all of the usual hangover cures: coffee, cold shower and even hair of the dog (watching the Pro Bowl), but none of them really seemed to work.

The depression is finally fading and I'm starting to appreciate the magical season that the Cardinals had, culminating with their tremendous and unexpected postseason run. It was a great game with a heartbreaking outcome, but it certainly validated both the Cardinals and HHH poster boy, Kurt Warner.

I made a trip down to sunny San Antonio last Saturday to watch the big game with a fellow UNI alum and Warner-phile, my buddy Adam. We had vowed before the playoffs started to watch the Super Bowl together if the Cardinals were one of the contestants. At the time the idea seemed fairly absurd and implausible, but one month later there I was in the 75 degree Texas heat, my winter coat slung over my arm and my gloves stashed away in my carry on.

Football induced heartache aside, I was able to sample some of the local Texas cuisine. Everything really is bigger in Texas (at least food-wise). For lunch on Saturday we ate at Hacienda Los Barrios and my palette was exposed to the famous San Antonio "puffy tacos". What a glorious invention this turned out to be. I ordered a decidedly fru-fru Margarita sampler and tried a 'chelada', which is kind of like the bad-ass older brother of the Bloody Mary. The chelada has a police record, a bit of drug problem and a face tattoo, but it always has your back. Don't let appearances fool you.

On Sunday before the game, we ate at a place called Longhorn Cafe (Angus Burger, Mashed Potatoes) and then on Monday before I left, we stopped by Rudy's BBQ, which was fantastic in spite of my lingering heartache from the night before. You order your meat by the pound and your sides by the pint and then they just hand you a whole loaf of bread to make your sandwiches. Picnic tables, fire pits, brisket, creamed corn and BBQ sauce. Heart attack probable, but well worth it. I thank Adam and Julie for putting up with my antics. The laughter, the tears and the yelling...and that was just during the airport meet up. Next time, Austin is definitely on the agenda.

Speaking of airports, while waiting to board my plane in the SA airport, some old dude sitting next to me in the waiting area just rips ass. He didn't give a S-H-I-T. It was one of the loudest farts I've ever heard and as luck would have it, the smell matched the sound. The guy was totally unfazed . I turned to him and not hiding my disgust, asked, "Are you serious? Wow, just not cool." He just stared at me like I was the a-hole. I got up and moved all my stuff to another section and just shook my head like a disapproving father (I know that head shake well). That fart still haunts me more than the Super Bowl.

That Friday before I left, Katy and I went to my company 'Holiday Party'. What holiday, you ask? I'd like to think that we were celebrating Presidents Day early rather than Christmas late. The festivities took place at Finn McCool's, not exactly the epitome of class and cool, unless you live in Schaumburg and still rock carpenter jeans. But it's a recession dammit, and this place gave us free booze. That cannot be overlooked. Of course, we said we'd just stay there for 'one or two' since I had to board a plane the next morning, but as is usually the case with holiday parties, soon enough co-workers were embarrassing themselves and severely hampering their chances of promotions. It was a fun night but made for a decidedly less fun plane ride for me the next morning.

All in all a eventful weekend, with lots of ups, downs, booze and gut busting food. Now I'm indebted to Katy for a while for letting me go down to San Antonio on a whim, which means that I finally have to figure out how to hang this damn painting that I bought her for Christmas. I'm many things, but 'handy' isn't one of them.* Look for my story of how I ripped down all of our drywall in the coming days.

*For a short while, people called me 'Handy'. This was clearly a play on my last name and was discontinued once people found out that it was making a mockery of handymen everywhere.

The puffy taco. If you only make love to one taco, make it be this one.

The chelada and my Margarita Trio at Hacienda Los Barrios. Blended to boot! Where is my copy of Sex and the City?

Adam and I before the game, in happier times. Adam changed out of his UNI shirt in the third quarter to a Cardinals t-shirts, and I switched from Diet Coke to Corona. For a while it worked, but it was too little, too late.

Katy and I at the Holiday Party at Finn McCools. Drinking to honor our Presidents...except that last one.