savory

Spiced Crispies (Chivda, or Indian Snack Mix)

I’m not a psychologist or anything, but I feel uniquely qualified after a recent shopping trip to characterize the following 5 stages of grief involved in holiday grocery shopping.

I was all set to make this chivda (which, by the way, is a fantastic Indian snack mix that you need a huge bowl of right now) after two trips to the Indian grocery store. The only ingredient I still needed was a box of golden raisins. ONE STUPID BOX OF GOLDEN RAISINS. Little did I know the wide range of emotions I was about to experience.

STAGE ONE: Denial.

Mike and I arrived at a Walmart that almost certainly exceeded its maximum occupancy. A sea of cars greeted us in the parking lot, followed by a sea of frustrated faces perched paradoxically above jingly Christmas sweaters inside the store.

We combed the aisles for raisins before finally locating them in the baking aisle and finding that the shelf had been — there’s really no other way to describe it — ransacked. Like, tiny ninja elves had climbed all over it and kicked packages around in a game of tiny ninja elf football. I glanced over the mess. No golden raisins in sight. Mike shrugged and, just like a man, offered, “Guess they don’t have any.”

I was obviously the more sane of the two of us. “THEY HAVE TO HAVE THEM,” I replied, shuffling through every single box. No golden raisins.

I argued with the reality staring me in the face: “ALL GROCERY STORES HAVE THEM.” I shuffled through every single box a second time.

As if perhaps this information would help, or as if Mike were, like me, continuing a deluded search through the shelves, I added, “THEY’RE LIKE RAISINS, BUT THEY’RE GOLDEN.” He stood behind me, hands in his pockets, letting the scene play out. I must have gone through the shelves five times in all, positive that at any moment, I was going to see that little yellow box peeking out at me from behind the dried cranberries. Mike backed a little farther away when I started talking to myself.

STAGE TWO: Anger / Delirium.

“SERIOUSLY, IN WHAT UNIVERSE DOES WALMART NOT HAVE A SINGLE BOX OF GOLDEN RAISINS? THERE’S THE SPOT ON THE SHELF THAT SAYS GOLDEN RAISINS! HOW COULD THEY BE SOLD OUT? NOBODY EVEN EATS GOLDEN RAISINS. WHAT THE CRAP!” I half-laughed, half-snorted in Mike’s arms. He patted my shoulder, uncertain of the appropriate response.

Finally, he tried, “Why don’t we go to a different store?” which only produced another round of angry grunting.

STAGE THREE: Bargaining.

As I combed through other aisles, thinking perhaps that the golden raisins were shelved with the canned fruit, or with the snacks, or with the holiday display, or with the toilet paper (I don’t know!), Mike tried another line of reasoning. “You know, with the time we’re spending here looking for them, we could already be at another store.”

“It’s not the time, it’s the inconvenience. I’d rather sit here for 2 more hours looking for these flippin’ raisins than check out, walk all the way back to the car, drive to another store, and repeat this whole process. I seriously will walk around until I find them. If I just walk around long enough, I have to find a box.”

STAGE FOUR: Depression.

After walking down all of the possible aisles three separate times, I stood morosely by the freezer section, watching Mike select turkey burgers. He debated over two brands while I moped. Who even cared which brand of turkey burgers? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

STAGE FIVE: Acceptance OR, if you’re me, CREATING AN ALTERNATE REALITY.

Normally this stage of grief is where you can finally accept your loss. There are no golden raisins, you’re still alive, the world will go on.

If you’re like me, though, this is not acceptable. There will be no acceptance! Not a bit of it!

I looked around and noticed the pallets being unloaded around the store. It was that unique time of night when the Walmart folks start stocking the shelves for the next day. Suddenly, I knew what I must do. “The pallets!” I shouted, taking off and leaving a confused Mike standing with a box of turkey burgers still in each hand.

Sure enough, a huge pallet of boxes stacked twice as tall as me sat by the baking aisle. I ran around it like a toddler around a Christmas tree until — GLORY, GLORY HALLELUJAH! — I saw the little Sun-Maid raisin box near the bottom. “Come help!” I yelled to Mike, who was walking up and only just now realizing how crazy I really was. He reluctantly started shifting boxes.

A Walmart stocker, who probably hated people like me with every ounce of her being, asked, “Do you need any help?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I just need a box of golden raisins. Is this okay?” I asked, still frantically shoving boxes around to get to the Sun-Maid box. I pulled off the top and pulled out the prize — that beautiful yellow box! The stocker nodded and walked off, clearly avoiding saying any of the things she probably wanted to say to me. Mike and I neatly stacked the boxes back as penance.

I looked up after our wonderful adventure to find Mike shaking his head incredulously. “I told you I was going to get them,” I said, grinning. “And you do realize that this is the worst kind of reinforcement for me.” Glowing with triumph, I walked out of Walmart (after paying, duh), feeling like the hero of my new reality.

* * *

Annnnd then, lucky for Mike, I got home and burned the entire first batch of chivda — and all my beautiful golden raisins with it. I have learned two lessons: one, Mike is a saint. Two, reality bites.

One year ago: Brown Butter Cookie Dough Pretzel Bars
Two years ago: Magic Bars
Three years ago: Taco Stuffed Crescent Rolls

Spiced Crispies (Chivda, or Indian snack mix)



Recipe by: adapted from kimberlite8, inspired by Poppy
Yield: about 3 1/2 cups of snack mix

Chivda is a common Indian snack mix (think of it as Indian Chex Mix!) also called Bombay Mix in the U.K. This version salty-sweet mix is a flavor explosion, to say the least: it combines sultry curry leaves and toasted spices with toasted nuts and golden raisins. You’ll be addicted in no time. I provided substitutes for the few Indian ingredients you need, but it’s really worth it to pop over to an Indian grocery if you have one — especially for curry leaves and sev. The whole recipe is super quick — about 20 minutes, flat — so prepare your mise-en-place ahead of time (have everything set out.)

Ingredients:
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 teaspoons mustard seed
1/2 teaspoon fennel seed
3/4 teaspoons poppy seed
1/2 teaspoon cumin seed
1/4 teaspoon ground red pepper
1/8 teaspoon turmeric
3 tablespoons corn syrup
3/4 teaspoons dry mango powder*
1/2 scant teaspoon kosher salt

heaping 1/4 cup roasted, salted cashews
heaping 1/4 cup chopped pecans
1/4 cup roasted, salted pumpkin or sunflower seeds
2 cups puffed rice cereal (like Rice Krispies)
1/2 cup sev**
1/2 teaspoon sugar
3/8 cup golden raisins
about 2-3 fresh curry leaves, chopped finely***

NOTES:
* Dry mango powder can be found at an Indian grocery. You should be able to substitute using a tablespoon or so of lemon juice, but I haven’t tried that.
** Sev are crunchy “noodles” made from chickpea flour and can be found at an Indian grocery. You could also substitute chow mein noodles or small pretzels, but sev is seriously so good.
*** Curry leaves are also found in an Indian grocery and add such a great flavor, texture, and color to the finished product. If you can’t find them, I think you could add about 1/8 teaspoon of curry powder in with the red pepper and turmeric, though I haven’t tried this.


Directions:
Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper. In a large bowl, place cashews, pecans, pumpkin or sunflower seeds, puffed rice cereal, and sev. Next to this bowl, set two big spoons sprayed with cooking spray.

This is a recipe where you want to have a great mise-en-place before you begin, because cooking goes quickly! Prepare three prep bowls: prep bowl #1 with mustard seed, fennel seed, poppy seed, and cumin seed; prep bowl #2 with ground red pepper and turmeric; and prep bowl #3 with corn syrup, dry mango powder, and salt. In a large saucepan, heat vegetable oil over medium heat until it shimmers (test with a cumin seed — it should bubble very slightly when dropped in). When oil is ready, add all the seeds from prep bowl #1 and let them begin to sizzle for about 30 seconds, stirring occasionally. Add in the red pepper and turmeric in prep bowl #2 and let the mixture continue to sizzle for another 30 seconds or so, stirring occasionally, until spices are lightly toasted and fragrant. Add mango powder, salt, and corn syrup from prep bowl #3 and let cook until corn syrup is bubbly, about 30 more seconds. Pour this mixture all over the puffed rice cereal mixture in the large bowl and use your sprayed spoons to toss and mix it gently until well-coated.

Spread the mixture on the prepared baking sheet, breaking up any large clumps gently, and bake for 12-15 minutes, tossing every few minutes and sprinkling the 1/2 teaspoon sugar on halfway through, until nuts are toasted. Once removed from the oven, pour the mixture back into the large bowl and toss with golden raisins and chopped curry leaves. Serve hot or room temperature. Store, fully cooled, in an airtight container.

Broiled Southern Pimiento Cheese

My sandwich sat heavily in my stomach as I watched states turn blue and red Tuesday night, and I wanted to write something beautiful about empathy. I wanted to say it in a way Burt Bacharach didn’t already beat me to. I wanted to lament that that song was recorded in 1965 and we’re still trading barbs about who’s un-American, un-Christian, ignorant, and ill-informed instead of just discussing facts. I wanted to tell you about how my students wrote journals suggesting that folks research their decisions and discuss them compassionately — but then turned around the last period of the day and cheered/heckled about their mock election results.

I wanted to say all of this and ask you for help and give you my prescription and . . .

instead I’m going to talk about Waffle House.


delicious unbroiled, too.

I know this is going to be a confusing post, because I doubt anyone feels the same as I do about Waffle House. But I also know that you have a Waffle House of your own. Not a literal WaHo, as we called it in college, but a figurative place that means to you what WaHo means to me.

Waffle House is my safe house. It’s a weathered yellow, globe-lamped beacon on the darkest, coldest streets on the darkest, coldest nights.

When every other restaurant is closed, it’s open. When every person I see feels like a stranger, it’s open. When my best friend in the world is closed off to me, it’s open. When everyone is asleep and I’m otherwise totally alone, Waffle House is awake.

It’s not only open: it’s welcoming.

A woman works at my Waffle House who has practiced mothering for most of her life. She effortlessly extends that to me as if I might as well be her child, a gesture that astounds me in its generosity but one that she seems to barely consider. She’ll call me sweetie or hon or baby and offer me a soda. She’ll make a joke about where I’m putting all those waffles I’m eating. She’ll ask me how everything tasted.

She doesn’t have to do that. She probably gets paid half of what I do (and I’m a teacher; I don’t get paid that much). My tip — though I’ll tip generously out of gratitude — isn’t going to make up for her lower wages. Her boss isn’t sitting there watching her. She just does it because she’s in the hospitality business, and she feels hospitable toward me. I can’t get over it.

Even in the Waffle Houses where no one mothers me, they extend the basic gestures of hospitality: no matter what time of day I walk in, how I’m feeling, or what I’ve been through, I am offered a drink. I am offered food. Someone prepares it for me and sets it before me. I pray over my food and eat surrounded by a warm blanket of noise: conversations I’m not a part of, laughter, a story told in Spanish, a couple talking in hushed tones, a man flirting with a server, a song I haven’t heard in a decade from the neon jukebox.

Maybe all this seems accidental, but I think the WaHo culture was deliberately created. Have you ever walked into a Waffle House and noticed a laminated list of “House Rules” posted close to the door or above the grill? It proudly proclaims, “You are welcome in Our House,” and notes that they will tolerate no discrimination for any reason. Maybe it’s silly, but I’m always touched by that. I believe it.

WaHo also has it’s very own language, an important part of creating a culture. I can “hold the yolks” and get my hashbrowns “smothered, covered, topped, and capped.” I don’t just order a sandwich or chili: I order Aunt Lib’s patty melt and Bert’s Chili. You’re automatically an insider if you know the lingo — and if you don’t, it’s on the menu. So welcome inside.

I guess that’s what it is — in a world where everyone suddenly seems so combative and self-centered, so willing to divide and exclude, Waffle House is the epitome of inclusivity. My faith alienates some people and my politics alienate the others, so I often feel like I’m on the outside of circles. I just don’t fit. The easy labels don’t work. And since I’m a sensitive person, I really feel the barbs from both sides. No wonder inclusivity means a lot to me.

I feel like I’m writing a grade school essay on my favorite place, but maybe that’s what I needed to go back to tonight. Maybe I needed things to become a little simpler, a little warmer.

Speaking of warmth, this Broiled Southern Pimiento Cheese goes a long way toward comforting the soul. Just like Waffle House is one of my absolute favorite places, pimiento cheese is one of my absolute favorite foods. I ordered a version that had been topped with a bit of extra sharp cheddar and broiled into a warm dip at a restaurant in Raleigh, and after one bite, I knew I had to recreate it. You’re going to adore it!

What’s your Waffle House?

One year ago: Fresh Open-Faced California Sandwich
Two years ago: How to Make 27+ Cheesecakes and Look Awesome While Doing It
Three years ago: Barefoot Contessa’s Carrot Pineapple Cake

My Favorite Southern Pimiento Cheese



Recipe by: Adapted from Paula Deen, and inspired by NOFO @ The Pig’s broiled pimiento cheese dip
Yield: about 2 cups of dip

I’m a pimiento cheese addict — I love it slathered on two slices of white bread, baked into something amazing, or just eaten as a fantastic dip. This is the best pimiento cheese I’ve ever had — much better than any I can find in the grocery store for sure! This recipe adds a few hot peppers for heat and then broils the pimiento cheese to create a warm, bubbly, comforting dip you’re going to love.

Ingredients:
3 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
2 cups grated sharp cheddar*, plus extra to mix in and for topping at the end
1/2 cup Hellmann’s mayonnaise**
2 teaspoons minced hot peppers (jalapeños or your favorite), or to taste
1/4 teaspoon McCormick’s roasted garlic salt*** (or regular if you can’t find it)
pinch of ground pepper
2 to 3 tablespoons pimientos, smashed

*I usually use two different cheddars. Food Lion Extra Sharp Cheddar is my favorite cheese ever (and no, they did not sponsor this post) and I usually mix it with another brand of cheddar I enjoy.
**Hellmann’s is the only mayonnaise I ever, ever use, and no, they also did not sponsor this post.
***McCormick also did not sponsor this post, but I haven’t seen roasted garlic salt from anyone else and I like theirs.

Directions:
In a food processor (you can also do this by hand, but the food processor makes it a bit easier), mix the cream cheese until fluffy. Add cheese, mayonnaise, hot peppers, garlic salt, pepper, and smashed pimientos and mix until combined. If serving as a cold dip, spoon the mixture out into a serving bowl, mixing in the unused freshly grated cheese for texture.

If serving as a broiled dip, preheat the broiler. Spoon the mixture equally into shallow ramekins and top with unused freshly grated cheese. Be sure your ramekins are safe for broiling — I chanced it very carefully, but glass is not recommended for broiling — try to find some shallow metal pans or some small cast iron skillets instead. Place the ramekins on a baking sheet and broil until the cheese is browned and bubbly, rotating the pan several times. Allow to cool slightly before serving with crackers, strips of bacon, charred toast, and/or crudites.

Waffle House also did not sponsor this post and doesn’t know I exist (except my favorite servers, who remember me every time!) I just love WaHo and wanted to share my thoughts about it with you.

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Crispy Baked Sweet Potato Fries with Basil Salt and Lemon Garlic Dipping Sauce

I really intended to have relaxed by now. Summer vacation officially began for me last Saturday, and I had all sorts of fun plans: relaxing at the pool, workin’ on my fitness, watching funny YouTube videos.

And then it happened: work creep.

I’ve talked a bit about lifestyle creep before — the phenomenon where, as you earn more money and invest in “luxuries” they begin to feel like “necessities.” Work creep is similar (I say this like I didn’t just make the term up; whatever), but without the fun new acquisitions. Work creep is where, as you gain a little time here and there, you find a way to fill it with work. Am I the only one who experiences this?

I think part of the problem is that I always have a backlog of work: things I should have been doing all school year but have been ignoring due to lack of time. I don’t want to think about the emails I’ve forgotten to respond to, the dog I’ve forgotten to walk (just kidding, just kidding, she reminds me!), the cleaning I’ve forgotten to do. Ugh.

I literally — are you guys going to judge me for this? I’m going to tell you anyway — I literally have not done an official overall cleaning of any room in my house in . . . months. Like, every now and then I cleaned the toilet, threw some dishes in the dishwasher, or cleaned off the stove, but other than that (and laundry when absolutely essential — but no folding!), we’ve been on autopilot over here. And again, it’s not because I’m lazy, but because my schedule was jam-packed full of educating young minds, baking young cobblers (okay, this parallelism makes no sense), and sometimes eating and sleeping.

So now that I’m confronted with a beautiful, wide-open couple of months, it’s understandable that I’ve immediately scheduled the entire thing with all of my backlogged work. I’ve worked all day every day this past week on blog work. And there are baking projects, cooking camps, cleaning (good grief, so much cleaning), and packing for my impending apartment and classroom moves still to be done. I need a vacation from my vacation — but I know I’d just work through it as well. Good thing I love every ounce of work I do, right?

If you’re fueling your work creep, sweet potato fries are a good snacking choice. This recipe by Giada DiLaurentis is my favorite because of the delicious basil salt and easy lemon garlic mayonnaise for dipping. Fun fact: I use the dipping sauce for dipping roasted asparagus spears in, too! So good.

I’ve included a few tips for making your fries extra crispy if you like them that way. Enjoy these at a summer picnic or, okay, while cleaning. Sigh.

Do you experience work creep? Are you a workaholic (by choice or necessity), or can you turn it off?

One year ago: Blueberry Cream Cheese Almond Braid
Two years ago: Santa Fe Breakfast Bake

Crisp Baked Sweet Potato Fries with Basil Salt and Lemon Garlic Dipping Sauce



Recipe by: Slightly adapted from Giada DiLaurentis
Yield: 2 servings

These sweet potato fries are delicious — especially with their tangy lemon garlic mayonnaise for dipping! To ensure you get crispy fries, cut them very thin and spread them out on the baking sheet — they shouldn’t be touching or crowding each other at all. This might mean using several baking sheets. Also, depending on the thickness of your fries, you might need to adjust the cooking time up or down to obtain crispy (but not burnt to a crisp!) fries. Just check early and often — and remember they’ll crisp up a bit as they cool as well.

Ingredients:
2 sweet potatoes, cut into thin “fries”
1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil leaves (or more to taste)
1 teaspoon kosher salt (or more to taste)
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3/4 cup mayonnaise
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon lemon juice

Directions:
Line two baking sheets (or more as needed) with foil and set aside. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. In a large bowl, toss the sweet potato fries in the olive oil and then spread them out on the baking sheets. Make sure they don’t touch and aren’t crowded. Bake until they’re golden and crisp, about 45 minutes (but check early and often in case your fries are thinner or smaller and cook faster.)

While the fries are baking, mix together the salt, pepper, and basil to make basil salt. Combine the mayonnaise, garlic, and lemon juice in another small bowl to make the Lemon Garlic Dipping Sauce. When the fries come out of the oven, sprinkle on the basil salt and toss them around with a spatula. Spread them out again to let them cool slightly (if you keep them in a heap, they’ll steam themselves and get soggy). Serve them with the Lemon Garlic Dipping Sauce.

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Croque Madame French Toast Cups

My 7th grade students and I spent most of class today making fun of their writing.

Wait, that sounds bad, doesn’t it? Am I currently losing teacher points? I definitely would’ve lost a few if you’d walked in and seen me reading a student’s paper aloud, barely restraining laughter (while the class didn’t even bother trying.)

Reserve judgment, though! I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds.

See, the students were actually nominating themselves for this roasting. The papers we were snickering at were their earliest assignments from last year, and they were so amusing because the kids are so much better at writing now. Because they grow by leaps and bounds over the two years I teach them, I always plan a day at the end of 7th grade for them to complete a writing reflection. Today was that day.

I originally planned the reflection to be an individual, silent activity. Every year, however, it inevitably evolves into a class-wide discussion, mostly because they love to share the absurd things they find in their early work. About 5 minutes into the assignment, a student will raise his or her hand to announce, “My handwriting was terrible back then!” Another hand will shoot into the air: “I used periods in a list where I should have used commas!” Another hand: “This sentence didn’t even make sense!”

My favorite moment today was when E. and A. shared their “thesaurusy” papers. After I exhorted them at the beginning of the year to work on their word choice, both girls resorted to the thesaurus. It was an excellent impulse, but their execution was . . . ah, imperfect. They doubled over in laughter today as they shared sentences from that early paper: “I reckon human cloning is spurious,” and “I conjecture that human cloning is shoddy.”

I’m happy to report that both girls use more appropriate diction these days.

All of the good-natured ribbing and laughter today did make their writing analysis take longer, and I could have shushed them and redirected their focus. The truth is, though, I relish their incredulity. I’ve saved all of their writing for two years just to savor this moment with them. They giggle at themselves and at others, search for concrete ways their writing has improved, and realize that the 360 language arts classes they just completed actually taught them something.

Secretly, their reflection becomes my reflection: what did my course accomplish? How have these kids grown?

For my students, I provide reflection opportunities like this, complete with detailed prompts to guide their thoughts. For me, though, reflecting is like breathing. I’m naturally introspective (sometimes to a fault!) so that I can hardly plan the future without evaluating (and re-evaluating, and re-evaluating again) the past.

Recently, pondering the past led me to revisit these adorable stuffed French toast cups. They’re one of my favorite breakfast/brunch recipes and I’ve known for awhile that I wanted to create some variations on the French toast cup theme.

In these little Croque Madame Cups, sweet French toast cradles salty ham, mellow Gruyère cheese, and a gorgeous yolky baked egg. The cups self-sauce as the yolk breaks over the contents, and with a quick dip in some maple syrup, each bite is perfection. They’re a little more fiddly than just making French toast or just making a sandwich, but they’re cute enough for a fancy brunch and so worth the effort.

They were a delicious, luxurious way to reinvent my French toast cups, but I’m betting I’m not finished yet! Those cups are destined for even more fun fillings.

Since we’re being reflective today, reflect on your year so far: how have you grown in 2012?

One year ago: Blueberry Cream Cheese Almond Braid
Two years ago: Lemon Triumph Cake

Croque Madame French Toast Cups



Recipe by: Willow Bird Baking
Yield: 8 cups

These little Croque Madame French Toast Cups take two messy dishes — a traditional croque madame and French toast — and combine them in finger food format. Apart from being more convenient to serve and eat at a brunch or breakfast, they’re outright adorable. I love the gorgeous flavor of Gruyère in each cup, but if you’re on a budget you can use good Swiss. Make sure to buy good quality ham, though, because it really makes the dish.

Ingredients:
1/2 cup heavy cream, plus 8 teaspoons, divided
1/2 cup milk
3 large eggs plus 4-8 eggs, divided (see note below)
2 tablespoons honey, microwaved for 20 seconds (but not while still IN THE BEAR, y’all!)
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
8 slices day-old or stale sandwich bread
4 tablespoons butter
a couple of slices good ham
a couple of slices Gruyère cheese (or Swiss) and some grated for topping
salt and pepper

Directions:
Note: Cracking the egg over each French toast cup before baking is the hardest part of this recipe, because a whole egg has too much liquid and overflows the cup. I’ll tell you what I did to get the right amount of egg in each cup, and then I’ll make a suggestion for how you might be able to do it even easier. What I did is crack the egg and pry it open just enough to let half the white and half the yolk slip into one French toast cup (using the shell to reserve the other half of the egg). I then released the other half of the egg over another cup. I think it’d be even easier, though, to just crack 8 eggs into a wide bowl and use a spoon to scoop a yolk and a little white out into each French toast cup. You’d end up using more eggs, but this way each cup will have a whole yolk, which is lovely!

In a medium bowl, whisk together the milk, cream, eggs, honey, cinnamon, and salt (this step can be done the night before and refrigerated). When you’re ready to cook your French toast, pour this mixture into a cake pan or pie dish.

Prepare your bread by removing the crusts (I stack the slices and use a long serrated knife to remove all the crusts at once) and roll each slice with a rolling pin to slightly flatten and elongate it. Dip each slice of bread into your custard mixture for about 8-10 seconds on each side before carefully removing it with a spatula to a cooling rack over a sheet pan or over the sink. Allow the excess moisture to drain off of the slices for 1-2 minutes.

To cook French toast, melt 1 tablespoon of butter over medium heat in a skillet. Put 2 slides of bread at a time into the pan and toast gently to golden brown (about 2-3 minutes per side). Remove the French toast to a cooling rack to cool completely. Repeat with all the slices of bread, replenishing butter in the pan as needed. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. When the French toast is cool enough to handle, take each piece and gently tuck it into the well of a greased muffin tin, forming a bowl. Tuck some ham and Gruyère cheese in each cup. Place an egg over top (see above note). Lightly salt and pepper each cup and then top each egg with 1 teaspoon heavy cream.

Bake the cups at 400 degrees F for 10-12 minutes, watching carefully. Pull them out when the white is set but the yolk is not fully cooked through (has a little jiggle.) Top each cup with a little shredded Gruyère when they’re hot from the oven. Set them out to cool and continue cooking from their residual heat (at least 10 minutes). Use a knife to loosen the edges from the pan (and you might even need to use it as a lever to loosen the bottom of the cup, since some of the egg will have leaked out and sealed the cup to its well.) Remove the cups to a serving plate (if they seem to be wobbly, leave them in the pan a little longer). Serve them warm on a bed of maple syrup.

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Krispy Kreme Doughnut Croque Madame

(Will it totally squander any shred of credibility gained from my New York Times mention and our fantastic discussion to post a doughnut sandwich right now? Yes? Oh.)

My 6th grade students and I take a field trip to High Point every year to watch a play produced by the North Carolina Shakespeare Festival. Shakespeare is the main event, but there’s another attraction in High Point that inevitably catches the students’ attention: the 60-year-old historic Krispy Kreme Doughnut shop on Main Street. It’s exciting to see the “Hot Doughnuts Now” sign pop into view each year, but the first year we went, the doughnuts became a major source of dissent.

See, I divide students into small car groups before a field trip so that parent volunteers can drive us. That particular year we had 4 different vehicles carting us to High Point and back. After the play, each vehicle arrived back at school and unloaded a group of tired, contented 6th graders — until the last car arrived.

When the door opened on that car, I watched all heck break loose. Each kid stepped out, much to the shock and dismay of their classmates, sporting a paper Krispy Kreme hat. That’s right: while every other kid had been driven straight back to school, this car had stopped for doughnuts.

My teacher sense kicked into gear. I recognized this moment! I knew it would come someday. This was the fateful moment when I had to whip out the line. You know the one (because you’ve either used it on your own kids or had it used on you). I looked around at all their outraged faces and said, feeling much older than I really was, “Guys, life’s not fair.”

They got over it. But since then, we’ve always made it a point to put “stop for a quick doughnut” on the field trip agenda. It’s lovely to see them all get out of their cars with paper Krispy Kreme hats and fun memories at the end of the day.

Personally, I have trouble “stopping for a quick doughnut.” It’s easier for me to stop for, say, a dozen doughnuts. In case you don’t already know this about me: I am wild for Krispy Kremes. Cake doughnuts are fine (only KK’s cake doughnuts, though; I’m not a fan of that other cake doughnut chain), but those yeasty rings of love are my kryptonite.

Last year I created the “Just Trust Me” Fried Bologna Doughnutwich (no really, trust me! It’s so good!) and recently I got a hankering for another version.

This sandwich is a take on a croque madame, which is a grilled ham and cheese sandwich topped with a fried egg and sometimes served on French toast. In this version, however, two original glazed Krispy Kreme doughnuts kick that French toast to the curb.

Listen, I know you’re skeptical (everyone gets skeptical when they see a doughnutwich, and perhaps that is the most appropriate initial reaction), but the melty Gruyère, salty ham, and creamy “sauce” from the egg yolk are absolutely insane with the sweet glazed doughnut. Maybe I should call this the “Just Trust Me (Again)” Krispy Kreme Doughnut Croque Madame? It’s probably a once-a-year sort of treat, but I hope you’ll give it a try.

What’s the “life’s not fair!” moment you remember from your childhood? (here’s another one of mine.)

One year ago: World’s Best Grilled Cheese (sharp cheddar cheese & caramelized onions on beer bread)
Two years ago: Caramel Fudge Brownie Cheesecake

Krispy Kreme Doughnut Croque Madame



Recipe by: Willow Bird Baking
Yield: 2 sandwiches

Proving once and for all that I’m not a food snob, I offer you a sandwich on . . . a doughnut. The first Krispy Kreme breakfast sandwich I made was so amazing that I was ready for more. This time around I combined salty ham, melty Gruyère, and an over-easy fried egg on an original glazed Krispy Kreme doughnut to create a croque madame. The flavors are amazing together — trust me!

Ingredients:
4 Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnuts (or you can cut 2 in half if you’re delicate)
2 thick slices of good smoked ham
2 slices Gruyère cheese
Hellmann’s mayonnaise
2 eggs
salt and pepper
2-3 tablespoons butter

Directions:
Lay 2 doughnuts out on a plate. Melt a tablespoon of butter in a skillet over medium-high heat and sear the slices of ham on both sides briefly. Remove them to a paper towel to drain for a bit before placing each slice onto a doughnut. Top with a thin slice or two of Gruyère and microwave for a a few seconds to get the cheese melty. Smear with some mayonnaise.

Melt the last tablespoon of butter in your skillet. Break one egg at a time into the pan, salt and pepper it, and fry it to your desired doneness (I’d like to make a pitch for over-easy or -medium, since the gooey yolk is delicious in this sandwich!) Place the fried egg briefly on the paper-towel lined plate to drain off the excess butter, and then place one on top of each stack of ham and Gruyère. Top both sandwiches with another doughnut as the “top bun.” Serve immediately.

P.S. In case you’re wondering, this is not a sponsored post. I just really love Krispy Kremes.

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