- split and arrange hot dog buns
- taste-test hot dog buns (had to make sure they were still fresh enough)
- sprinkle seasoning
- sprinkle cheese
Simple: 5
Fast: 5
Frugal: 5
Question of the week: What recipes do you use that call for repurposing food?
Sunday, October 25, 2009
"Repurposed" Cheesy Bread
"Repurposing content" is a big buzz word at my work. Basically it just means that we take content from one area of the Web and use it in another area for a differnt purpose. This saves us from duplicating our efforts to create the same content for more than one use.
My mom had a similar principal; it was called "use what you have."
She used to "repurpose" leftover mashed potatoes into potato pancakes and a leftover roast chicken went into a boiling pot to make chicken noodle soup.
The concept came in quite handy the other night when I was facing another weekday meal with little time to prepare it. Spaghetti and meatballs was on the Weekly Family Menu. With sauce from a jar and meatballs from the freezer, it is a simple, quick meal. The only thing was Elli was champing at the bit to help me "took." I've never seen my toddler try to grab a pot of boiling water and, honestly, it's something I never want to see. Some meals just don't lend themselves very easily to having Elli help me cook.
So, I racked my brain for something she could help me with. I asked myself, "What would Mom do?"
In my bread basket sat an abundance of leftoever, quickly-staling hot dog buns, a lingering reminder of the opportunity cost of being a loyal Costco shopper.
"Ah hah!" I said. "Cheesy bread."
Individual Cheesy Bread
5 hot dog buns, bottoms and tops split
1/4 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup shredded co-jack cheese
Italian seasoning
Spread butter on each half of the hot dog buns and arrange buns on a cookie sheet, buttered side up. Top buns with cheese and seasoning. Bake at 300 for 5-7 minutes or until cheese is melted and edges of bun are beginning to brown.
As the pasta boiled and the sauce warmed, I helped Elli up onto her "steps" (step ladder reacing up to the counter) and brought out the bag of buns.
"Bed!" she said with delight. She likes bread because she is the product of me.
"Yes, bread," I said. "We're going to make some cheesy bread."
I had Elli help me split the hot dog buns and arrange them on the cookie sheet. I suppose I should have been more specific with her about what we tear, how many times we tear and when we stop. She commandeered one of the buns and willfully ignored my pleas not to harm it.
"Terr," she said as she tore the bun to small bits and dropped them on top of the other, neatly arranged buns. "Terr. Terr."
Eventually I just surrendered and let her continue tearing the bun, and then shove the bits into her mouth like marshmallows in a solo game of Fuzzy Bunny. I used that distraction to my advantage, quickly spreading the butter on the surviving buns.
Right about the time she consumed the last bite, I brought out the jar of seasoning. For some reason, I could not find my garlic powder, nor could I find my Italian seasoning. I improvised with a jar of dipping oil seasoning that somewhat resembled Italian seasoning blend.
We held the jar together and shook to the rhythm of my, "Shake, shake, shake."
And of course, she wasn't about to miss out on the spreading of the cheese. No, never. That's her favorite thing to do ever, besides maybe eating bread.
And with that, in the oven went the buns. Just a few minutes later, supper was ready. The buns did turn a little more brown than I would like, so next time (and if I continue to shop at Costco, there will be a next time), I'll probably turn the oven down a bit.
I will also note that Elli did help at other junctures during the cooking process. For instance, she helped me break the dry spaghetti noodles down.
I gave just a few noodles at a time and showed her how to break them.
She also helped me with the meatballs by pressing the buttons on the microwave to warm them up and by throwing away the empty bag.
Thanks to Susan G. for letting me "repurpose" that idea of hers on how she lets her little ones help her in the kitchen.
All said, it turned out to be a pretty good meal. Spaghetti is a staple meal at our house, and just maybe the Cheesy Bread will become a staple too.
Things Elli Could Do
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Colors of the Mexican Chip Casserole
I learned something about Elli this week: She loves green peppers, raw. Eats them like an apple. Where did this child come from? It took me 25 years to even try a green pepper.
Of course, I found this out by accident. It’s not like I handed her a green pepper and said, “Taste,” like I do with other, usually cooked, foods.
The green pepper was part of a new recipe we were trying out: Mexican Chip Casserole, found in my all-time favorite cookbook, Taste of Home’s 1999 Quick Cooking. The recipe is simple, easy, cheap…and loaded with opportunity to teach Elli.
Mexican Chip Casserole
1 lb ground beef or turkey
1 medium onion, chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
1 can condensed cream of mushroom soup, undiluted
1 can (11 oz) Mexicorn
1 can chopped green chilies (or, if you’re me, substitute 1/3 green pepper, chopped)
1 package (10 ½ oz) corn chips
1 can enchilada sauce
2 cups shredded Co-Jack cheese
In skillet, cook beef, onion and garlic until meat is browned and onion is tender; drain. Add soup, corn and chilies; mix well. In an ungreased shallow 3-qt. baking dish, layer meat mixture, corn chips and enchilada sauce; top with cheese. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 8-10 minutes or until heated through.
Reading through the recipe, I realized that not only would Elli be able to help with a number of steps – my primary criteria in choosing a recipe for her – but it also afforded me a way to work with her on colors. Green for the pepper, yellow for the corn, white for the onion, red for the enchilada sauce, and so forth.
Perhaps it was the color of the pepper that attracted her. Then again, I can’t really say for sure because she began trying to eat the pepper while it was still wrapped in the colored produce bag.
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I set the pepper aside and focused her attention on the onion. This was the first time I chopped an onion with her in the room. Usually I do that before I even bring her in the room with me, out of fear of her being around a paring knife and uncertainty about how she would react to the pungency of the onion. Turns out, I had nothing to fear but fear itself.
She watched patiently as I cut the ends off the onion – the white onion, I pointed out.
"Rite," she said.
I then dropped chunks of the onion in the food processor and showed her how to press the button, which she probably would have liked better if pressing the button did not result in a loud whirling sound.
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It was time to move on to the pepper.
“What color is the green pepper, Elli?”
She nodded and she said with confidence, “Red.”
“It’s green,” I said. “Green peppers are green.”
“Geen.”
I cut off a third of the pepper and began chopping. Elli, meanwhile, began chomping. She picked up the remaining pepper and bite into it, rotated, bite again, rotated, bite. Definitely worth a picture.
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If she ever tells me she hates green pepper, I have the evidence otherwise.
Before I put my focus on browning the meat, onions and peppers, I gave Elli a job she excelled at. She was in charge of crushing some tortilla chips for the casserole topping. I set out the bag of chips and a container for her to crush the chips into. After I showed her a couple of times what she was tasked with, off she went.
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Naturally, a couple of chips were sacrificed in the name of quality control, but that’s all a part of cooking.
When the meat mixture was done, I spread it into a baking dish. I would have asked Elli to identify the color of the corn had I remembered that I did indeed buy a can and that the can was still sitting in the pantry. Undoubtedly she would have told me the corn was red, which is actually partially true counting the red peppers in Mexicorn.
Instead, I had her sprinkle the yellow tortilla chips over the meat mixture.
“What color are the chips?”
“Red.”
“Yellow.”
“Yeah.”
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Next we poured the enchilada sauce over the casserole.
“What color?”
“Red.”
“Very good.”
Finally, her all-time favorite ingredient, the cheese. I let her spread an abundance of cheese over top. Why not? After all, cheese is good, and gathering and spreading works on her hand-eye coordination. That’s justification, is it not?
![]()
The thing I liked most about this recipe is that I was able to fix on a weekday. It only takes 10 minutes max in the oven. Elli and I were able to rock this puppy in less than 30 minutes. Serve with some fruit, and dinner is done.
Nearly every recipe I try from the ToH Quick Cooking has ended up in the Family Recipe Box. This one, though, we’re on the fence about. Not that it was bad, but it was just missing something.
Maybe next time I’ll throw in some mexicorn.
Things Elli could do:
Help chop onion in food processor
Crush tortilla chips
Sprinkle tortilla chips
Help pour enchilada sauce
Sprinkle cheese
Mexican Chip Casserole Ratings
Elli-friendly cooking: 4
Elli-friendly eating: 4
Simple: 5
Fast: 5
Frugal: 5
Of course, I found this out by accident. It’s not like I handed her a green pepper and said, “Taste,” like I do with other, usually cooked, foods.
The green pepper was part of a new recipe we were trying out: Mexican Chip Casserole, found in my all-time favorite cookbook, Taste of Home’s 1999 Quick Cooking. The recipe is simple, easy, cheap…and loaded with opportunity to teach Elli.
Mexican Chip Casserole
1 lb ground beef or turkey
1 medium onion, chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
1 can condensed cream of mushroom soup, undiluted
1 can (11 oz) Mexicorn
1 can chopped green chilies (or, if you’re me, substitute 1/3 green pepper, chopped)
1 package (10 ½ oz) corn chips
1 can enchilada sauce
2 cups shredded Co-Jack cheese
In skillet, cook beef, onion and garlic until meat is browned and onion is tender; drain. Add soup, corn and chilies; mix well. In an ungreased shallow 3-qt. baking dish, layer meat mixture, corn chips and enchilada sauce; top with cheese. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 8-10 minutes or until heated through.
Reading through the recipe, I realized that not only would Elli be able to help with a number of steps – my primary criteria in choosing a recipe for her – but it also afforded me a way to work with her on colors. Green for the pepper, yellow for the corn, white for the onion, red for the enchilada sauce, and so forth.
Perhaps it was the color of the pepper that attracted her. Then again, I can’t really say for sure because she began trying to eat the pepper while it was still wrapped in the colored produce bag.
I set the pepper aside and focused her attention on the onion. This was the first time I chopped an onion with her in the room. Usually I do that before I even bring her in the room with me, out of fear of her being around a paring knife and uncertainty about how she would react to the pungency of the onion. Turns out, I had nothing to fear but fear itself.
She watched patiently as I cut the ends off the onion – the white onion, I pointed out.
"Rite," she said.
I then dropped chunks of the onion in the food processor and showed her how to press the button, which she probably would have liked better if pressing the button did not result in a loud whirling sound.
It was time to move on to the pepper.
“What color is the green pepper, Elli?”
She nodded and she said with confidence, “Red.”
“It’s green,” I said. “Green peppers are green.”
“Geen.”
I cut off a third of the pepper and began chopping. Elli, meanwhile, began chomping. She picked up the remaining pepper and bite into it, rotated, bite again, rotated, bite. Definitely worth a picture.
If she ever tells me she hates green pepper, I have the evidence otherwise.
Before I put my focus on browning the meat, onions and peppers, I gave Elli a job she excelled at. She was in charge of crushing some tortilla chips for the casserole topping. I set out the bag of chips and a container for her to crush the chips into. After I showed her a couple of times what she was tasked with, off she went.
Naturally, a couple of chips were sacrificed in the name of quality control, but that’s all a part of cooking.
When the meat mixture was done, I spread it into a baking dish. I would have asked Elli to identify the color of the corn had I remembered that I did indeed buy a can and that the can was still sitting in the pantry. Undoubtedly she would have told me the corn was red, which is actually partially true counting the red peppers in Mexicorn.
Instead, I had her sprinkle the yellow tortilla chips over the meat mixture.
“What color are the chips?”
“Red.”
“Yellow.”
“Yeah.”
Next we poured the enchilada sauce over the casserole.
“What color?”
“Red.”
“Very good.”
Finally, her all-time favorite ingredient, the cheese. I let her spread an abundance of cheese over top. Why not? After all, cheese is good, and gathering and spreading works on her hand-eye coordination. That’s justification, is it not?
The thing I liked most about this recipe is that I was able to fix on a weekday. It only takes 10 minutes max in the oven. Elli and I were able to rock this puppy in less than 30 minutes. Serve with some fruit, and dinner is done.
Nearly every recipe I try from the ToH Quick Cooking has ended up in the Family Recipe Box. This one, though, we’re on the fence about. Not that it was bad, but it was just missing something.
Maybe next time I’ll throw in some mexicorn.
Things Elli could do:
Help chop onion in food processor
Crush tortilla chips
Sprinkle tortilla chips
Help pour enchilada sauce
Sprinkle cheese
Mexican Chip Casserole Ratings
Elli-friendly cooking: 4
Elli-friendly eating: 4
Simple: 5
Fast: 5
Frugal: 5
Question of the week:
What foods do your kids like that surprises you most?
Monday, October 5, 2009
Inherited Scalloped Cabbage
Willkommen, Oktober!
This time of year is special to me for many reasons. I love fall. I love cozy clothes. And I love Oktoberfest. Daddy and I just returned from our first experience at Oktoberfest Zinzinnati, which is the largest party celebrating the coming of October outside of Munich. I’m still reeling from the sauerkraut balls and mettwurst!
What a perfect prompt to begin to teach Elli a little bit about her German heritage. It will be a while before I try fried pickles or schnitzel with her, so for now I set my sights on something much more approachable and much more dear to my heart.
Lehenbauer Scalloped Cabbage
½ head small or medium head cabbage
1 cup butter, divided
2 ½ cups cream or milk
Salt and pepper to taste
3 sleeves Ritz crackers, 2 finely crushed, 1 coarsely crushed
1 egg, beaten
In saucepan, melt ¼ cup butter. Add cabbage and cook until translucent. Grease casserole dish; pour in two sleeves finely crushed crackers, forming a crust along the bottom and sides of dish. Layer cabbage on top of crackers. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Cut remaining butter into chunks and place chunks evenly over cabbage. Top with coarsely crushed crackers. Pour milk or cream evenly over casserole (will be soupy). Slowly pour egg evenly over the top layer of crackers. Bake at 350 degrees for 45-50 minutes, or until all liquid is absorbed and crust is golden brown.
My grandmother used to make this dish, many times at my request. It is by far my favorite dish of hers. Actually, she once told me that her mother, my Great-Grandma Lehenbauer, used to make it. The recipe differs in many ways from a standard scalloped cabbage dish, for instance, a noticeable lack of cheese and twice as many crackers.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
This recipe was a superb choice for cooking with Elli. She donned her apron, and I brought out a special apron.
“Elli, look at this,” I said. I showed her the house apron that my grandmother had made for herself, blue with pink and white flowers. Grandma had a few of these aprons, and just before she passed away, my aunt asked if I wanted to take them. At the time, I didn’t think I would want them. Now, I’m glad I chose otherwise.
“Fow-ders,” Elli said, pointing at the flowers.
“That’s right. Your Great-Grandma made this apron. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Pitty,” she confirmed.
I put it on, and we started to cook.
After I had cut the head of cabbage, she helped me peel the leaves apart and tear them into bite-size pieces. As the cabbage cooked, I had her go to work on the crackers. With the crackers still in the sealed sleeves, I showed her how to push down on the sleeves to grind the crackers into pieces.
“Crunch, crunch,” I told her as I pressed down.
She smiled and reached for the sleeve of crackers.
![]()
Anyone with a toddler will tell you that this is the perfect job for a nearly two-year-old.
Then I showed her how to pour the crackers into the greased dish and press the crackers down into a crust. The latter was probably not the best idea, as the cracker pieces stuck to Elli’s hands, much to her delight. A portion of the crushed crackers ended up on the floor as a result.
![]()
When the cabbage was done, I layered it on top and asked Elli to help me sprinkle on the salt and pepper. One trick I figured out to prevent Elli from pouring on the seasoning is to open the shakers only halfway.
![]()
Butter was Grandma’s favorite ingredient, I think. This recipe calls for a lot of it. I had Elli “help” me slice the butter into chunks.
![]()
She tried to pick up the butter and put on top of the cabbage, but she just couldn’t figure out how to grasp the butter. Mommy intervened.
She could, however, pour the last sleeve of crackers on top (and a little on the floor), then help pour on the milk and egg.
The milk was my change to the recipe, mainly because Grandma made her dish with fresh cream from the farm. She insisted it was the cream that made the dish. I have no doubt in that truth. I also have no doubt in the truth our family has issues with cholesterol.
I slipped the casserole in the oven and asked Elli if she wanted to sweep up the crackers. She always wants to sweep, even if there are no crackers on the floor.
![]()
I really should buy her a kid-sized broom set.
Before long the reminiscent smell of scalloped cabbage baking filled the kitchen. Ahh, the memories. I hope it’s a smell, and a story, that Elli will come to hold dear.
Things Elli Could Do:
Peel, tear cabbage
Crush and pour crackers
Sprinkle salt and pepper
Help slice butter
Lehenbauer Scalloped Cabbage Ratings
Elli-friendly cooking: 4
Elli-friendly eating: 4 (loved the soft texture)
Simple: 4
Fast: 3 (bake time alone is 45 minutes)
Frugal: 5
This time of year is special to me for many reasons. I love fall. I love cozy clothes. And I love Oktoberfest. Daddy and I just returned from our first experience at Oktoberfest Zinzinnati, which is the largest party celebrating the coming of October outside of Munich. I’m still reeling from the sauerkraut balls and mettwurst!
What a perfect prompt to begin to teach Elli a little bit about her German heritage. It will be a while before I try fried pickles or schnitzel with her, so for now I set my sights on something much more approachable and much more dear to my heart.
Lehenbauer Scalloped Cabbage
½ head small or medium head cabbage
1 cup butter, divided
2 ½ cups cream or milk
Salt and pepper to taste
3 sleeves Ritz crackers, 2 finely crushed, 1 coarsely crushed
1 egg, beaten
In saucepan, melt ¼ cup butter. Add cabbage and cook until translucent. Grease casserole dish; pour in two sleeves finely crushed crackers, forming a crust along the bottom and sides of dish. Layer cabbage on top of crackers. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Cut remaining butter into chunks and place chunks evenly over cabbage. Top with coarsely crushed crackers. Pour milk or cream evenly over casserole (will be soupy). Slowly pour egg evenly over the top layer of crackers. Bake at 350 degrees for 45-50 minutes, or until all liquid is absorbed and crust is golden brown.
My grandmother used to make this dish, many times at my request. It is by far my favorite dish of hers. Actually, she once told me that her mother, my Great-Grandma Lehenbauer, used to make it. The recipe differs in many ways from a standard scalloped cabbage dish, for instance, a noticeable lack of cheese and twice as many crackers.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
This recipe was a superb choice for cooking with Elli. She donned her apron, and I brought out a special apron.
“Elli, look at this,” I said. I showed her the house apron that my grandmother had made for herself, blue with pink and white flowers. Grandma had a few of these aprons, and just before she passed away, my aunt asked if I wanted to take them. At the time, I didn’t think I would want them. Now, I’m glad I chose otherwise.
“Fow-ders,” Elli said, pointing at the flowers.
“That’s right. Your Great-Grandma made this apron. Isn’t it pretty?”
“Pitty,” she confirmed.
I put it on, and we started to cook.
After I had cut the head of cabbage, she helped me peel the leaves apart and tear them into bite-size pieces. As the cabbage cooked, I had her go to work on the crackers. With the crackers still in the sealed sleeves, I showed her how to push down on the sleeves to grind the crackers into pieces.
“Crunch, crunch,” I told her as I pressed down.
She smiled and reached for the sleeve of crackers.
Anyone with a toddler will tell you that this is the perfect job for a nearly two-year-old.
Then I showed her how to pour the crackers into the greased dish and press the crackers down into a crust. The latter was probably not the best idea, as the cracker pieces stuck to Elli’s hands, much to her delight. A portion of the crushed crackers ended up on the floor as a result.
When the cabbage was done, I layered it on top and asked Elli to help me sprinkle on the salt and pepper. One trick I figured out to prevent Elli from pouring on the seasoning is to open the shakers only halfway.
Butter was Grandma’s favorite ingredient, I think. This recipe calls for a lot of it. I had Elli “help” me slice the butter into chunks.
She tried to pick up the butter and put on top of the cabbage, but she just couldn’t figure out how to grasp the butter. Mommy intervened.
She could, however, pour the last sleeve of crackers on top (and a little on the floor), then help pour on the milk and egg.
The milk was my change to the recipe, mainly because Grandma made her dish with fresh cream from the farm. She insisted it was the cream that made the dish. I have no doubt in that truth. I also have no doubt in the truth our family has issues with cholesterol.
I slipped the casserole in the oven and asked Elli if she wanted to sweep up the crackers. She always wants to sweep, even if there are no crackers on the floor.
I really should buy her a kid-sized broom set.
Before long the reminiscent smell of scalloped cabbage baking filled the kitchen. Ahh, the memories. I hope it’s a smell, and a story, that Elli will come to hold dear.
Things Elli Could Do:
Peel, tear cabbage
Crush and pour crackers
Sprinkle salt and pepper
Help slice butter
Lehenbauer Scalloped Cabbage Ratings
Elli-friendly cooking: 4
Elli-friendly eating: 4 (loved the soft texture)
Simple: 4
Fast: 3 (bake time alone is 45 minutes)
Frugal: 5
Question of the Week:
What is the significance behind one of your favorite family recipes?
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