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The Boys’ Club
Part 3 of 3
by C. Hope Clark
http://www.fundsforwriters.com/
High Hope for the Freelance Writer
Sweet Understanding
Part 3 of 3

It was in the spring of 1943, and 6-year old Bobbi peeked through the wooden slats of the back yard gate. She crossed her legs and wiggled. The outhouse was in clear view.

“Where’s Felicity? That mean old chicken!” Bobbi muttered.

Tiny and petite for her years, Bobbi felt utterly defenseless against the cranky bird. Didn’t the chicken understand that when nature called she had to walk the path to the outhouse?

Bobbi was puzzled because Mommy, Daddy, Grandma or Grandpa wouldn’t help her. They just kept saying, “Honey, you’ve got to learn to defend yourself!”

Bobbi made every effort to avoid Felicity. She’d watch closely, from inside the gate to make sure the chicken wasn’t in sight, then with her eyes fixed on the outhouse door, she’d quickly open the gate and make a run for the privy. The bird would suddenly jump from behind a nearby woodpile batting Bobbi with her swift wings.

Bobbi thought perhaps the gate noise was alerting the insensitive creature. So, she left the gate standing open and patiently waited for signs of Felicity. With the chicken out of sight and a clear footpath, Bobbi sprinted up the trail, only to be blocked again by the persistent fowl! Then there were times when the sly bird would let Bobbi go to the outhouse only to ambush her upon the return trip.

“Does Felicity ever sleep?” Bobbi wondered. Morning, noon and night the crotchety fowl menaced her. In Bobbi’s more desperate moments, with no hope of eluding the chicken, Bobbi resorted to squatting in the yard, only to be caught and scolded by her mother. Consequently, trying to out-wait the bird didn’t work either. Her guess was that the hen’s bladder was bigger, better and stronger.

“Bobbi, you’ve got to show the chicken who’s boss.” Dad reminded her. “Stand up for yourself. No one else is going to.”

“But, Daddy, I’m afraid of her!” Bobbi cried hopelessly.

The old bird continued to get the best of Bobbi. And to make matters worse all the grownups were on the chicken’s side!

One morning Bobbi woke up feeling grumpy. She was fed-up with having to grapple with the chicken.

“Leave me alone, I have to go potty!” Bobbi barked at her mother as she marched outside. Her blond curls bounced off her shoulders and her short, determined legs carried her toward the outdoor facilities.

Predictably, Felicity leaped from behind a bale of straw. She lunged at Bobbi and arched her neck, threatening Bobbi with her sharp beak.

At that moment something snapped in Bobbi. The chicken had bullied her for the last time.
With her hands on her hips, she bent down and faced the chicken head-on. Bobbi waved her arms and hands in a mad frenzy and bellowed like a banshee as she squared-off, nose to beak, with the flabbergasted hen.

“Squawk! Squawk! Squawk!” Felicity protested. A scuffle ensued. Needless to say, thereafter, Felicity gave Bobbi a wide path, including the one to the outhouse.

Bobbi learned the importance of sticking up for herself. She also discovered the benefits of coming to a sweet understanding with someone who has a sour disposition.

Sweet & Sour Chicken
1 fryer, cutup or 6 chicken breasts
1-8 ounce bottle Russian or Catalina Salad Dressing
1 package onion soup mix, dry
8 ounces orange marmalade

Mix salad dressing, onion soup mix and marmalade together in a medium size bowl. Pour mixture over chicken that has been placed in a rectangular baking pan. Bake; uncovered, at 350 degrees for 45-60 minutes. Yield: 4-5 servings with a rice accompaniment.

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Coming in April: Springtime Desserts and Salads
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Chicken Math
Part 2 of 3
by C. Hope Clark
http://www.fundsforwriters.com/
High Hope for the Freelance Writer


“Eight hens is enough,” I said to my husband. “That’s four or five eggs a day.”
“Barred Rock? Leghorns? What breed do we want?” he mumbled, his nose all but pressed against the computer screen.

The coop was almost ready. The breeder down the road only had Rhode Island Reds, and I knew that type bird to be scrappy. “Docile,” I said. “You decide. Just make sure they’re sweet. I want them to sit on my knee and eat out of my hand.” We wanted eggs, but I raised pets, not just farm products. “Oh, and no roosters.”

“You discriminating?”

“No. Last thing I need is Mrs. Harvey next door fussing about the daybreak crowing.”
Twenty minutes later, he logged off the computer. “Done,” he said.

“What’d you get?”

“Let’s see . . . I ordered three Barred Plymouth Rock, three Buff Orpingtons, three Gold Wyandotte, three Silver Wyandotte, and three Dominiques. All laid back varieties.”

I counted. Three, six, nine . . . “You ordered fifteen birds? That’s five dozen eggs a week!”

“I couldn’t decide. Some don’t make it anyway, hon. But they’re all female,” he said with a wink. “Just like you said.”

I couldn’t wait. Days later at six A.M., the post office called with our two-day-old pullets. I rode home with the small, cardboard box in my lap, the heater on for the birds, sweat beading on my temple. I freed the shipping paper off the top and read as my husband drove. “Oh no,” I said.

“They all right?” my husband asked.

“Oh, they’re all fine,” I said as I counted twenty teeny-weeny bodies. “Free males included for warmth” was stamped bold across the receipt. And they were all so dang cute. Thank heavens I’d only wanted eight. If I’d said fifteen, he’d have ordered thirty.
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“The Chicken Trilogy”
Part 2 of 3
by Cynthia Briggs
Author of:
Pork Chops & Applesauce and
Sweet Apple Temptations
Read more about Cynthia's books by clicking here:
porkchopsandapplesauce.net/book.htm

Chicken Rustlers Sometimes Eat Crow

“Betty, here’s my recipe for oven fried chicken that you wanted. Speaking of chicken, are those your chickens running around loose in my back yard?” Lucille said to her neighbor as she slipped the recipe in her pocket and hastened toward the sliding door to get a better look.

“No, that can’t be. We clipped their wings and repaired the chicken yard fence yesterday.”
Betty wiped the steam from the glass and peered outside into the darkness. The rain was pelting down in heavy torrents. Lucille’s back yard had become a pool of wet grass. A flurry of Rhode Island Red hens were scurrying about the yard, flapping their water soaked wings against drenching rain. “Oh my gosh! My hens are loose! We’ve got to get them back into a dry pen before they catch pneumonia.”

Lucille quickly followed Betty out into the weather to corral the feathered escapees.

“Here, Lucille, these salmon fishing nets will make catching them much easier.” Betty shouted as she shoved a huge net in Lucille’s direction.

Betty and Lucille chased the squawking hens through several neighboring yards. The hens noisily dodged swooping nets as the two determined women splashed their way down the normally quiet rural street.

The overly excited birds bolted through an overgrown cow pasture where Betty slipped and rolled across the grass and Lucille slid into a puddle of muck netting a fence post instead of a hen. Customers at a nearby Arco Mini-Mart watched in disbelief as the net carrying duo chased the fluttering flock past the gas pumps and then disappeared into the squall.

“Enough is enough!” Betty told Lucille. “Let’s go back home and get dried out. Look at us! We’re soaked. Those birds have no intention of being rounded up tonight.”

“You won’t get an argument out of me. But before we change our clothes, let’s check the chicken coop and see how they managed to get out.”

Lucille added with a chuckle. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and some of them went back to the pen on their own. Then we won’t be going back completely empty-handed.”

Betty’s eyes were flat. She was too tired, wet, muddy and frustrated to find any humor in the situation.

There were no visible signs of damage to the outer fencing around the chicken yard. Other than being soaked from the downpour, everything appeared to be in its normal place. How did the chickens escape?

Betty opened the hen house door. A single light bulb swayed gently which made it possible for them to see inside the room. Lucille peeked over Betty’s shoulder.

The hens were all huddled together on their roost. The room was dry, warm and undisturbed. They had been in bed for the night and safe from the storm since dusk.

The chickens looked up at the two astonished women and clucked, as if to ask, “What do you want at this time of the night?”

“Betty, we’re chicken rustlers!” Lucille shrieked. “The chickens we were trying to net must belong to Mr. Brown who lives down by the school.”

“I feel so stupid,” Betty replied. She was embarrassed but glad to know her chickens were safe.

Lucille pulled a dripping wet recipe out of her pocket and handed it to Betty. “Why don’t you go home and try this chicken recipe…it’s better than eating crow!”

Lucille's Easy Oven Fried Chicken
1 Frying Chicken, cut-up
1 cube margarine
2 cups flour
¼ teaspoon paprika
1 teaspoon sea salt
¼ teaspoon pepper, freshly ground

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Put the margarine cube in a large, aluminum foil lined, baking pan with sides (I use a heavier-weight jellyroll pan). Place the pan in the oven so the butter will melt and cover the bottom of the pan. Rinse the chicken pieces and dry thoroughly on paper towels.

In a separate bowl combine flour, paprika, salt and pepper. Dredge chicken in flour mixture. Shake excess flour from the coated chicken pieces and place them in the melted butter. For best results, arrange the chicken so it’s not scrunched together in the pan.

Bake for 30 minutes. Turn chicken and bake for another 30 minutes. If needed, continue baking and turning the chicken (in 10 minute intervals) to achieve desired crispness.
Yield: 4-5 servings

Served with mashed potatoes and corn on the cob this dinner screams comfort food! Lucille's Oven Fried Chicken recipe is the simplest way I've ever found to make fried chicken with no standing over a hot stove. Additionally, it's probably lower in calories than traditional chicken fried in grease. Chicken pieces come out of the oven crunchy on the outside, moist and juicy on the inside. Enjoy!
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Coming in April: Part 3 of the Two Chicken Trilogies
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First Rate Chicken Coop
Part 1 of 3
by C. Hope Clark
http://www.fundsforwriters.com/
High Hope for the Freelance Writer

We retired to three acres in rural South Carolina. To my delight, a neighbor had chickens. I grinned ear to ear every time Mr. Kirby called and asked us to look in on his birds while they went out of town. Before long, the urge got the best of us, and we decided to start a brood of our own. We could save money on eggs!

Chicken coop books covered my kitchen table. Nothing fit my dream, so I designed my own, stealing ideas from a hundred other structures found online. With a stiff new tool belt and $300 worth of lumber and materials in the garage, I broke ground.

My nights filled with images of nails, caulk, studs and paint, as did the floor of my garage. By day I pondered predators and weather, determined to stop any potential hazard for my birds by designing a fool-proof coop. The cashier at the building supply labeled us the chicken coop couple after our sixth trip, asking when we were hanging the chandelier. We enjoyed the chuckle but were hell-bent on building a house resistant to whatever nature threw at it.

A month later, The Chicken Ranch flaunted insulation, interior paneling, vinyl flooring, three colors of paint, lights, motion sensors, a French drain, chain-link fencing, a shaded dirt patio and an awning over a concrete run. The night we finished, I put pen to paper, calculating expenses and return on investment. My husband laughed as the figure hit $1500. As he walked away, I recalculated, woefully figuring it should take us no more than, say, fifteen years to re“coop” our expenses in fresh eggs.

~~~~~~~~~~

“The Chicken Trilogy”
Part 1 of 3
by Cynthia Briggs
http://www.porkchopsandapplesauce.net/book.htm

Mean-Spirited Fowl makes Savory Chicken Broccoli Souffle

“Grandma! He got me! He pecked me again!” I sobbed as I threw my arms around my grandmother’s legs and buried my tear stained face into her apron. The barnyard bully had once again forced me to seek the protection of Grandma’s arms.

I was a mere 4 years old when Grandma assigned me the daily task of gathering eggs from the hen house. She knew I delighted in slipping the eggs from beneath the hens’ warm fluffy tail feathers. Sometimes I’d disturb the girls and they’d fly from their straw lined nest squawking in protest. But, over all they were patient with my innocent awkwardness.

In contrast, the hen house rooster had no patience with me setting foot into his territory. The foul bird had given me good reason to be terrified of him and he’d turned my favorite farm chore into a daytime nightmare.

Every day when I scampered to the hen house to collect the eggs with renewed hope that the vicious creature had gotten lost during the night and couldn’t find his way back to the barnyard. Without fail he’d fly at me with his angry claws and sweep sand into my eyes as he rapidly flapped his powerful wings. He’d knock me to the ground and peck me repeatedly with his wickedly sharp pointed beak.

Although Grandma was usually slow-to-anger, her presence alone was intimidating as she tipped the scales at 250 pounds and stood 5’ 10” tall. Using her size and a crusty glare, she attempted some mediating tactics by hovering at the chicken yard gate. Quietly she’d wave a wooden club, for the rooster’s benefit, while I collected the eggs. She also positioned herself with the threat of the chopping block in full view.

I’m not sure if the rooster was just plain stupid or if he underestimated Grandma’s gift with the cleaver. But the day came when he found out who ruled the roost. “That bird has gotten too big for his breeches! He’s pecked you for the last time!” She picked me up and set me out of her path.

“Where’s my hatchet?” She asked as the wooden screen door slammed behind her with a loud bang. Grandma advanced toward the chicken yard like a female bear protecting her young. Her amazingly smooth momentum was uninterrupted as she swiftly grabbed her well-used hatchet from the chopping stump.

She charged past the hen house with her sights on the zealously mean rooster. The feathers flew and yet another notch was carved into the chopping block.

Soft, nervous chuckles began bubbling out of me when I realized the rooster had finally got what I felt he deserved. Grandma had put the mean-spirited fowl in his place. After plucking the last of the rooster’s pinfeathers, Grandma artfully dressed the bird and plunged him into the stew pot. I couldn’t stop giggling.

At dinner that evening I grinned fiendishly and cackled with guilt-free satisfaction when Grandma served Savory Chicken Broccoli Soufflé. It was comforting for me to know I’d be able to gather eggs in peace and never again be terrorized by the ornery rooster.

Savory Chicken Broccoli Soufflé
6 large, fresh eggs, separated
1 cup sharp cheese, grated
1 10-ounce can cream of celery soup
10 ounces milk
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
1/4 teaspoon white pepper, freshly ground
1 1/2 cups broccoli, chopped (or mushrooms, celery, onions, peas)
1 cup chicken, cooked and finely diced (or shrimp, crab, ham, smoked salmon)

Beat egg yolks together in a large bowl. Mix soup into egg yolks, then add milk, salt, dry mustard, and white pepper. In a separate large bowl, whip the egg whites until stiff peaks form. Gently fold the egg yolk mixture into the egg whites. Continue folding in meat, veggies and cheese.

Fold into an ungreased, 1 1/2 quart soufflé dish. Bake, uncovered at 350 degrees for 45 minutes, or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Serve immediately with green side salads, glasses of white dinner and crusty rolls, if desired. Presto! Dinner is served!
Yield: 4 servings

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Coming in March: Part 2 of the Two Trilogies

Happy New Year!

Excerpt from Pork Chops & Applesauce:
A Collection of Recipes and Reflections

Crab meat is Costly, yet an Oh-So worth it Treat

“I’d never bought a live crab before.” Kathy told me. “The crabber instructed me on how to cook them and I felt especially adventurous that day. So, I bought 4 of the bug-eyed, pre-historic looking creatures at an unbelievable low price of $1 each. It sounded easy enough, just drop the crab into a pot of rapidly boiling water and simmer it until its shell turns red.”

“Have you ever had to chase a crab around your kitchen? Or worse yet, have you ever been chased around your own kitchen by a crab?” She asked. “Well, I discovered the hard way that a crab needs to be dropped into the boiling water on its back. When I dropped the first crab into the pot face down, it quickly climbed back up the side of the pot, landed on the floor and, clacking its pincers, chased me screaming across the kitchen to the safety of a nearby bedroom.” Kathy howled with laughter as she remembered the incident.

“When I finally got the nerve to leave the bedroom, I chased him around the kitchen, grabbed the partially scalded cantankerous crab and quickly dropped him into the pot…on his back. Victory was mine!” She gallantly announced. “Without doubt, it was well worth the skirmish to get fresh crab meat and at such a reasonable price,” she added. “However, I think that kind of market low price is gone forever!”

Inexpensive crab meat is a price of the past. No matter how you weigh the critter - crab is gonna cost you. But for crab meat lovers the following Crab Meat Pasta-Shell Soup is Oh-So worth it!

Crab Meat Pasta-Shell Soup
1/4 cup onion, chopped
1/4 cup green bell pepper, chopped
1/4 cup celery, diced
1-2 tablespoons margarine or butter
3 1/2 cups chicken broth
1 cup ripe tomato, peeled and crushed
1/4 cup tiny pasta shells
1 tablespoon parsley, snipped
1/2 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground pepper to taste
6-8 ounces fresh crab meat or 2-6 ounce cans crab meat, drained
with cartilage and shells removed

In a large saucepan, saute onion, green bell pepper and celery in margarine until tender but not brown. Add broth, tomatoes, tiny pasta shells, parsley, salt and pepper; bring to boiling. Cover and reduce heat; simmer for 30 minutes. Add crab meat and simmer 5 minutes longer. Serve immediately. Yield: 6-8 servings

This recipe originates from the kitchen of Cheryl Burke, Kent, Washington. Cheryl shared this crab soup recipe with me many years ago when she and her husband, Dan, hosted their annual Kent Fire Fighters’ Christmas dinner. Since then I’ve been making it every holiday season for either Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve dinner. It makes a satisfying and delectable main dish when accompanied with a dinner salad, fresh sourdough bread and chilled white wine. Crab Meat Pasta-Shell Soup gets a double thumbs-up from me as it’s incredibly simple to prepare, yet it tastes gourmet!

More recipes and stories for warming up during chilly winter weather can be found in my book, Pork Chops & Applesauce; Pacific Beach Clam Chowder and
Southwest Meets Northwest White Chili along with their accompanying sure-cure stories for warming you from the inside out.

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Smoked Salmon Chowder is a warming comfort food that is satisfying on chilly days, yet promises summer with sprigs of dill weed and parsley. Creamy sour cream thickens the broth and compliments the smoked fish, creating a lunch or dinner that’s sure to please all seafaring seafood enthusiasts.

Smoked Salmon Chowder
2 cups smoked salmon, cut into chunks, (alder smoked is my favorite)
OR 2 cups baked or canned salmon plus ⅛ – ¼ teaspoon liquid smoke
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup onions, chopped
½ cup celery, sliced
1 cup green pepper, chopped (optional)
4 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3 cups chicken broth
½ - ¾ cup sour cream or cream cheese
1 tablespoon fresh or dried dill weed
2-3 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
Freshly ground black pepper and salt to taste

Melt butter in medium saucepan; saute onion, celery, and green pepper. Stir in flour, slowly add broth and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until chowder reaches boiling point. Add sour cream, dill weed, black pepper and smoked salmon; heat 4-5 minutes, stirring constantly (do not boil). Garnish with parsley just before serving, season with salt at the table. Yield: 4-6 servings

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Of all sound of all bells... most solemn and touching is the peal which rings out the Old Year. ~Charles Lamb

Happy New Year!
C. Briggs

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Your contact information is kept strictly confidential and we don't share, sell or trade your information with anyone for any reason.
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Labels: crab, crab shell soup, crab soup, crabmeat, crabmeat soup, new year, salmon, salmon chowder, seafood, smoked salmon, smoked salmon chowder

Classic Rum Balls
1 ½ cups confectioners’ sugar
2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
½ teaspoon ground allspice
½ cup dark or light rum
2 tablespoons light corn syrup
2 ½ cups very finely crushed vanilla wafers
1 cup finely chopped, toasted walnuts or pecans

In a large bowl, sift together 1 cup confectioners’ sugar, cocoa powder and allspice. Stir in rum and corn syrup. Stir in vanilla wafers and walnuts; mix well. Cover mixture and refrigerate for 30 minutes, or until slightly firm. It’s OK if mixture appears crumbly and dry; do not add more liquid.

Place the remaining ½ cup confectioners’ sugar in a shallow bowl.

Scoop out portions of the chocolate/rum mixture using a tablespoon; form into 1-inch balls. Roll the balls in confectioners’ sugar, making sure to coat evenly.

Place on a baking sheet, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. The next day place each rum ball in ruffled candy papers; place a sheet of waxed paper between the layers to keep from sticking. Rum Balls will keep for up to 2 weeks in an airtight container in the refrigerator. Yield: 5 ½ dozen

Simply Decadent Truffles
2 ½ packages or 20 squares, semi-sweet baking chocolate, divided
1-8 ounce package cream cheese, softened
Chopped nuts, optional
Chocolate Sprinkles, optional

Melt 8 of the chocolate squares as directed on package. Beat cream cheese in medium bowl with electric hand mixer until creamy. Add melted chocolate; mix well. Cover, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour, or until firm.

Cover baking sheet with waxed or parchment paper. Shape chocolate mixture into 30-36 balls, using about 2 teaspoons chocolate/cream cheese mixture for each ball. Place in single layer on prepared baking sheet. Refrigerate until chocolate is firm.

Melt remaining chocolate squares as directed on package. Using a toothpick, dip truffles into melted chocolate one at a time; roll truffles in chopped nuts or chocolate sprinkles, if desired. Return to baking sheet. Refrigerate until chocolate is firm. Place each truffle in a ruffled candy paper; store covered in refrigerator. Yield: 3 dozen

Variations: Add 1-2 teaspoons peppermint, rum or almond extract; or ¼ cup orange or raspberry liqueur to the chocolate mixture before shaping into balls.

Chocolate Swirl Bark with Cherries & Pistachios
2 cups (1-12 ounce package) semi-sweet chocolate chips
6 ounces (3 squares) white candy coating
1 cup toasted pistachios or pecans, chopped and divided
1 cup dried cherries or cranberries

In a medium-size microwaveable bowl, melt chocolate chips; stir until smooth and set aside. In a separate microwaveable bowl, melt white candy coating; stir until smooth and set aside.

Mix 1/2 cup pistachios into semi-sweet chocolate; spread onto parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Mix cherries into white candy coating; pour over dark chocolate; run a knife through both layers of candy to swirl. Sprinkle remaining pistachios over bark. Chill in refrigerator until firm. Break into serving-size pieces. Store bark in air-tight container in refrigerator. Yield: approximately 1 pound

Scheduled Arts & Crafts Shows

Book Signing Events

Hope to see you!

Highland High School, 4700 Coal Ave SE, Albuquerque, NM, 87108, Saturday, Dec. 19, 9 AM to 4 PM.

Velocity Christmas Craft Show, Calvary of Albuquerque, 4001 Osuna Road NE, Albuquerque, NM, 87109, Fri. & Sat, Dec. 11 & 12.

Purse Party, 8001 Wyoming Blvd NE, Suite D4, Albuquerque, NM, Sunday, Dec. 6, 2 PM to 4 PM.

Liz & Gil Silva Home, 7709 Apache Ave NE, Albuquerque, NM, Fri. and Sat. Dec. 4 & 5, 9 AM to 6 PM.

Happy Holidays!
C. Briggs

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# posted by Cynthia @ 5:20 PM 1 Comments

On Thanksgiving Day your guests won't notice that you didn't fuss with pumpkin pie when you serve Apple Pumpkin Dessert. It's a delicious blend of apples, spices and pumpkin served individually with a zingy gingersnap topping. This recipe is one of many apple pumpkin recipes from my cookbook, Sweet Apple Temptations.
Apple Pumpkin Dessert
1-21 ounce can apple pie filling
1-16 ounce can pumpkin pie filling
1-14 ounce can sweetened condensed milk
2 eggs
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup gingersnap crumbs, approximately 18 cookies
2 tablespoons butter, melted

Preheat oven to 400°. Spoon apple filling into 8-10, 1/2-cup size greased custard cups.

In a large bowl, beat together pumpkin, sweetened condensed milk, eggs, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt until well blended; spoon mixture into custard cups over apple filling.

Combine gingersnap crumbs and butter; sprinkle over pumpkin mixture. Place filled custard cups on a 15 x 10-inch jelly roll pan and add a small amount of water to the outer pan.

Bake for 10 minutes; reduce heat to 350. Bake for an additional 15 minutes, or until set in the center. Cool before serving. Garnish with a walnut half (pictured), if desired. Yield: 8-10 servings.

Hope to see you there!

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