When I was out for my morning jog on the trail today, I passed an unforgettable exerciser. She was a plump, silver-silver haired woman, and from far away I thought she was jogging. There was such a lively spring in her step, her body seemed to bounce up and down, with her full arms swinging rthymically as if she were a Viking assigned to row. As she marched in closer, I could actually hear her. Dressed in a T-shirt with a giant smiling sun, complete with bright blue stretch pants and a fanny pack, she was bobbing up and down, half dancing-half running, but all the while singing. Over and over again she crooned, "It's all deeeelicious, it's all deeeelicious, it's all deeelicious." I smiled to myself, and then at her, and then at the world. Who was this woman? Why was she so happy? Was she some kind of prophetess? A morning revelator with a fanny pack? Good grief-was she me in a few decades? If so, at least I know I'll be happy. And you know something else? She was right. It is all delicious. And here's further proof. Strawberry Shortcake. Whipped Cream. Sugary Strawberries. Tender, buttery biscuits. Yep, it's all delicious. Make your own. Then go for a walk with your fanny pack and sing about it, if you dare. Recipe here. Estimated Cost: $5.00 for a five serving half batch 
P.S. This is a true story.
P.S.S. I can't wait to find out if my delicious friend will be out on the trail tomorrow.
P.S.S.S. Don't you think too many PSs are annoying? Me too.
Up Next: 70s throwback-Canned Pineapple Rings in Dinner and Dessert
Once a year, the boys head out for a Father-Son's campout with the other gents from our church. You'd think they would revel in roughing it, but instead they stay at a cabin, project sporting events on to a sheet, and eat prime rib, shrimp, dutch oven potatoes, and chocolate cream puffs. I'm not making this up. Cream puffs, people, cream puffs. It sounds so cush, I'm tempted to throw on a baseball cap, draw in a sharpie handlebar mustache and sneak in. Except that I always have a wonderful time at home with my little girl having our Mother Daughter weekend. I'm sorry to be so 1870's, but we made jam this year. 
OK-that isn't all we did-we also went out to dinner and spent hours and hours in Barnes and Noble. We didn't wear bonnets or churn butter, but we did make jam while the men folk were away. Truthfully, we would have made it if they were here, too. They would have helped us, since we are a liberated modern family, daggum it. Besides, this jam's a huge family favorite. The recipe hails from the Quiet Man's South Dakota Grandma Darland. I never cared much about jam, until we stopped on our cross country honeymoon road trip for a day or two on the farm. Grandma set out a jar of the bright red sticky stuff with breakfast. One smear later I was hooked. It shouldn't really be called jam-no, it's more like candy. I've made Grandma Darland's jam for many people with the same addictive results. It's got three ingredients-just rhubarb, sugar, and strawberry jello. The chopped rhubarb stands all night, soaking in syrup. 
After a quick boil, the strawberry jello thickens the jam without having to use pectin or Sure-Jell. You don't have to heat process it if you don't want to. Simply freeze it in pint jars until ready to use. But don't count on it lasting too long. Hurry up now, before spring rhubarb gets replaced with summer veggies.
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Did you have a Happy Mother's Day? Mother's Day is a day that is happy but also a little bit sad. I love the charges, but without my permission they're getting bigger by the minute. They seem a little less mine and a little more independent every day. There are moments, like yesterday, when I watched Sailor putting on her socks, that I stop and remind myself that I used to do everything for her. And there were moments, like yesterday, when West decided that he no longer wears hats to church PERIOD, that I stop and remind myself that they are in charge of who they are more and more every day. They are mine forever, but they are ready to take over ownership of themselves, piece by piece, hour by hour, year by year. And that is why Mother's Day is a little bit sad. Sniff, sniff.
Holding by the stem, dip them in the chocolate one a time, swirling to coat. 
Place on a sheet of waxed paper and chill until set. 
If you have some cornbread lying around, or if you feel inclined to make some, it makes very good croutons. By the way, cornbread has been on the mind recently. You can also use plain bread. In either case, cut them into cubes and put them in the oven to toast. I had the broiler on and I turned my back for a minute. Do you think Prudy will notice?
I hadn't really noticed that spring was springing up on me. Yesterday I took my two charges to the park, bundled up in hooded sweatshirts and thick wooly knee socks. It turned out to be 80 degrees. The other park children, the ones with sensible mothers, were running around in tshirts, shorts, and sockless flip flop feet, covered in a prudent layer of sunscreen. I wore a turquoise cardigan, jeans and my newish hot pink trench coat that I bought at tar-jay and just love to pieces. Not many minutes had passed before I was forced to strip down the layers, even my newish hot pink trench coat that I love to pieces, and put on my sunglasses, roll up my jeans, take off my shoes and socks. And it struck me that spring has really sprung. It's really official on Friday, the proper first day of spring. It makes me want to climb up an apple tree, fly a kite, plant some seeds, and roll around in the grass-or at the very least watch my charges do these things. Spring is the most lighthearted but fleeting of all the seasons, so why not celebrate its arrival with a happy-go-lucky breakfast of strawberry belgian waffles? And I'm not packing up my newish trench coat just yet; the weather is dipping back down on Sunday. All the more reason to enjoy the strawberry flavor of spring sunshine while it lasts!
It's no secret that I've been on an ice cream making kick this summer. There's something so nostalgic and summery about churning out creamy pints of homemade ice cream. When this Dorie assignment came in, I had my cone ready. (Would you look at that drip in the photo? The kitchen Gods were smiling on me for this one.)
Dorie's real recipe is for 
Whisk in sour cream and whipping cream and place in freezer. I have to be honest: it was already delicious enough to eat at this point. It would make a very elegant cold soup for a luncheon. But we're supposed to be making ice cream so forge ahead.
Every thirty minutes, you'll give it a good whisking to prevent the formation of ice crystals. (It's also a good opportunity to snitch some ice cream.) 
When ice cream is almost set, drizzle with melted white chocolate and whisk vigorously. 
Scoop into a sugar cone. Eat. Hoard. Vow to make a double batch next time.
I know. I promised you peanut butter and jam bars today. (Coming tomorrow instead.) I hope you'll forgive me. This morning I felt inspired to make a more obvious use of the strawberry jam by pouring it over piping hot buttermilk pancakes, surrounded by fresh berries. The syrup, one part maple and three parts strawberry, tastes like spring and fall, like Vermont and California, like the old west and back east, like elementary school and graduate school. My husband, a man of very few words, hence the nickname "The Quiet Man," was practically verbose in lauding this syrup. Practically. "This is so much better than anything you could ever get at a restaurant." I wish I could add an exlamation point, but that really isn't his style.
Buttermilk Pancakes with Strawberry Maple Syrup for Four
With grapefruit and strawberries, this salad straddles the calendar between winter and spring. As always, use the fruits and vegetables that you have on hand...BUT I really love the refreshing pink grapefruit here. Cut a grapefruit in half and slice out each section like a piece of pie, leaving the white bitter pith behind. Squeeze the empty half cup into a bowl and you'll have the beginning of a sweet and tart dressing. I also threw in some leftover brown rice for a nutty contrast. Go ahead and give it a try!