Happy Peepster

Some people believe that Sundays should be a day of rest. I am not one of those people--unless the Sunday happens to be Easter and there are Peeps to be eaten.

I must confess that for most of my life, I did not enjoy eating Marshmallow Peeps, despite my best efforts. When I moved to an apartment just a mile from Peep Headquarters, I tried them again, after one friend swore that the Peeps I sent him from Pennsylvania tasted better than the ones he could get in stores in Virginia. I even tried eating them stale, as some people insisted was key. No luck.

But then, a few weeks ago, a friend offered me a homemade chocolate-covered Peep. I took one, to be polite--and then bit into what may be the world's most perfect dessert. And I'm kicking myself for missing out on artificially colored marshmallow goodness for so long.

The recipe is, as you may have guessed, quite easy--and almost as fun as watching Peeps blow up in the microwave.

Peep Pops

You will need:
*Peeps! (Bunnies work nicely because they lay flat.)
*Chocolate of your choice for melting. I used Wilton wafers -- they harden better than, say, chocolate chips. 1 bag of wafers is more than enough to coat 12 Peeps.
*Lollipop sticks
*Cake-decorating accoutrements: sprinkles, colored sugar, etc. Go crazy.
*Wax or parchment paper, for drying your Peeps

1. Separate the Peeps from their neighbors.
2. Insert a lollipop stick into the bottom of each Peep. Get it in as deep as you can without deforming the marshmallow -- your Peep is in for a wild ride. It's normal to feel uncomfortable while doing this.
3. Melt the chocolate according to the wafer package's instructions. If you're not using wafers, I suggest you look for chocolate-melting instructions elsewhere, because I mess up and overcook mine about 50 percent of the time.
4. Make your Peep take the plunge. My preferred method is to tilt the bowl slightly, so I can slide the Peep in sideways (keeping it more or less parallel to the countertop)


I see you too. 

 5. Gently shake off the excess chocolate, taking care not to fling the Peep off the stick.
6. Decorate! The chocolate hardens pretty quickly, so you may want to decorate your first half-batch before dipping the rest.
7. If you have candy molds, you can make a few pieces with the excess chocolate (or, of course, just lick the bowl).
8. Let the pops dry. If you're using wafers, your Peeps will harden at room temperature -- no need to refrigerate.

Happiness is not getting poked with a lollipop stick.





9. If you're really feeling ambitious, skip the Peep Pops altogether and go for a Peep Topiary:

I so didn't make this.



Remembering Grete

I wasn't born when Grete Waitz won the 1978 New York City Marathon. I never saw her blonde braids "swishing rhythmically...as she churned up First Avenue" en route to any of her nine victories. But I was there a few years ago on a muggy June evening in Central Park, standing sweaty-shoulder-to-sweaty-shoulder with thousands of other desk jockeys, when a soft-spoken Waitz stepped to the podium to wish us luck in the the JP Morgan Chase Corporate Challenge. Organizers couldn't have chosen a better ambaassador: This elite runner was also one of us.

We all find inspiration in different places, and for me, it's not Quenton Cassidy pissing blood after 60x400 in John L. Parker Jr.'s novel, Once a Runner, or cyclist Tom Simpson pedaling himself to death on the sun-baked slopes of Mt. Ventoux. It's Norwegian schoolteacher Grete Waitz setting a world marathon record in her first attempt at the distance, after a dinner of shrimp cocktail, steak, wine, and ice cream --because, you know, it was her first time to the States and she was about to retire from elite running, so she might as well celebrate--then hurling her shoes at her husband at the finish, declaring she'd never run another marathon again.

Oh, and by the way, she'd never run more than 12 miles at a time. And she had no clue where the finish line was, because all the markers were in miles, not kilometers.

Today, Waitz is no longer with us, after a six-year battle with cancer, and a working stiff has about as much chance of winning the New York City marathon as the naked cowboy in Times Square. But, thanks in part to Waitz's life's work inspiring recreational athletes, more than 40,000 people now finish the race each year--ten times the number of finishers in 1977. And female runners are no longer considered over-the-hill at 25.

Also, the most important lessons from Waitz's story still hold true. You don't have to do everything right to accomplish great things--although you'll probably be happier (and nicer to your loved ones) at the finish line if you're at least somewhat trained. Race like it's your last chance. Make a weekend out of it.

And--ahem--never count out a runner in pigtails.

Whoopie! We Won!

That's the headline that ran in the food section of today's Morning Call, which has published the results of its Keystone vs. Downeast Whoopie Pie Taste-Off, judged in part by yours truly. (Because we live in a multimedia world, naturally there's also a video in which I stuff my face, and a photo of me examining a pie for icing thickness.) I couldn't be any more excited for Bird-in-Hand Bakery, which took the top spot -- I've been enjoying their wares since I was a kid.

Post-Race Treat: Mint Cookies-and-Cream Brownies

Remember those commercials from the '80s when biting into a York Peppermint Patty would instantly summon a refreshing breeze? That's what inspired me to tweak the Oreo brownie recipe from a box of Betty Crocker mix. These brownies don't contain peppermint patties, although I may try subbing them in for the hot chocolate mix sometime.

You'll need:
1 box brownie mix (9x13 pan size)
Egg, oil and water (as directed by your brownie box)
1 2/3 cups Oreo cookie crumbs (I used mint Oreo Double Stuffs), divided
1/3 cup Williams Sonoma Peppermint Hot Chocolate (buy it at half price in early January)
Enough frosting to cover a 9x13 pan of brownies (I used store-bought frosting this time, but you should make it yourself, because tub frosting often contains trans fats, which are nasty and evil)

1. Make the brownie mix according to the box instructions.
2. Stir in 1 cup cookie crumbs and the hot chocolate mix.
3. Bake as directed.
4. When brownies are fully cool, frost them, then sprinkle remaining cookie crumbs over frosting.
5. For maximum refreshment, eat them in front of a fan with your eyes closed.

More than Meats: The Hatfield 5 and Dime

Race Date: 4/10/11
Location: Hatfield, PA
Weather: Elephant Gray
Distance: 5 or 10 miles
Postrace spread: tomato pie, bagels and cream cheese, bananas
Calves: Light Ivory
What I Baked Afterwards: Mint Cookies-and-Cream Brownies

If you live in eastern Pennsylvania, you probably think Hatfield is the home of Hatfield Quality Meats--because it is. But as I found out last weekend, its also so much more. For one thing it's home to a fabulous water slide:

It's also, for the second year, the host to the Hatfield 5 and Dime, a blissfully flat 5- or 10-miler that raises money for improvements to the community's parks. This year, the money will go to a cause near and dear to all runners--public restrooms.

The course consists of a five-mile loop; it's up to you to decide mid-race if you're going to run it once or twice. I'd planned on doing the 5-mile race, but as I approached the split point, my legs still felt improbably fresh. Fueled by a new sense of optimism--as well as the chorus of Tom Petty's "Runnin' Down the Dream," which had been pulsing though my brain for the past 34 minutes (well played, Mr. Start-Line DJ)--I decided to bypass the finish line and trot out for another round.

Just kidding.

Like many races, the 5 and Dime puts on a Health and Safety Fair. The displays on various ailments are a wonderful tool to educate athletes on the importance of a healthy lifestyle--and, I've always suspected, a sneaky way of ensuring we don't take too many packets of cream cheese at the post-race celebration. (Those things cost money, you know.) Anyway, certain elements are common to most health fairs, and this one did not disappoint. There were energy drinks with inscrutable labels:

And creepy mannequins with mildly inappropriate signage:

This particular booth was being helmed by a high-school-age girl, which I appreciated--being a former high-school-age, female creator of inappropriate signage myself.

After we'd all eaten our fill of tomato pie and bagels (taking care to go easy on the cream cheese), it was time to give out the door prizes, via randomly drawn bib numbers.

Just as I was congratulating myself on not winning the gift certificate to the local version of Chuck E. Cheese, I heard my number called. I had won...an at-home CPR instruction kit from the local visiting nurses' association.

Yes, that's right. I now have a creepy mannequin of my very own--complete with spare lung!

Party's at my place next weekend.

 All I can say is, the next time I take a photo of something at a race to make fun of it on the Internet, I'm going to choose a different subject--like really expensive shoes.

It's Not Easy Being Green

When I was growing up in Broomall, PA, I swam for Marple Newtown Swim Club during the summers. Our mascot was the seahorse, which was not at all intimidating--and a real pain in the butt to draw on posters. Our most heated rivalry was with the team from Martin's Dam Swim Club in nearby Wayne. Their mascot was the frog, which was equally unintimidating (but much easier to draw).

Even after 10+ years of summer-club meets, I never really figured out why we wanted to beat them so much, other than the fact that they were generally from nicer neighborhoods and we needed an excuse to cover our faces in blue zinc oxide every once in a while.



Don't try this on sunny days.

 The summer after my freshman year of high school, in addition to swimming on the team, I had a part-time job at the snack bar. I learned many essential life skills there: appeasing impatient customers; grilling Philly cheesesteaks; breaking Otis Spunkmeyer cookies and making it appear like an accident.

One of the most coveted jobs at the snack bar was creating the white-board sign that would sit on the main level of the club during swim meets, to remind guests that there was junk food to be had on the lower level. The night of the Martin's Dam meet, I was selected for the task. My advertisement went something like this:

Tonight's Special

In honor of the meet against Martin's Dam, the snack bar will be serving

FROG LEGS

They are a bargain at $4.25 each.
Come on down!

As I recall, illustrations were also involved.

I found out the next day that during the meet, a little girl from Martin's Dam read the sign and completely freaked out. Eventually her mother was able to convince her that the ad wasn't real, and that she would not be faced with dismembered amphibians when she went to buy her Ring Pop.

How did I hear this? The woman was my mother's boss.
To my knowledge, Mom has yet to rat me out.

Mead-ieval Times

The first conversation I ever had with my boyfriend, Dave, took place on the jungle gym at our school's end-of-year kindergarten picnic. I didn't know him--he was in the morning class; I was in the afternoon--but that's okay, because I had a really great pick-up line:

[Wait for it, wait for it...]

"What kind of sandwich is that?"

It turned out to be a BLT, which I found incredibly fascinating and exotic. BLTs were a dinner food at my house. For lunch, the choices were PB&J and baloney and cheese.

Almost 30 years (and one trip to Japan) later, Dave still inspires me to expand my culinary horizons. I now know, for example, that I like sea urchin and beef tongue. I can even eat shrimp with the head on--a great party trick for business dinners. But most recently, Dave and his friends introduced me to the many wonders of mead.

It all started when Dave's friend Colin started a small fermenting operation in his bedroom. After about a year of trial and error--including one early batch that "smelled like an apple tree vomited"--he declared the elixir fit for public consumption. Dave offered to make some food, and thus, Mead Fest was born.

It turns out that when you mention "mead fest" in casual conversation, you get asked a lot of questions. Here are some of the most common.

What is mead?
Mead is an alcoholic drink made from fermented honey. It's also known as honey wine. According to Wikipedia, it is the "ancestor of all fermented beverages."

Hey--didn't they drink that in Spartacus?
Why yes. It also features prominently in Beowulf. Which is pretty much all I remember about Beowulf.

I'm sensitive to the sulfites in wine. Can I still drink mead?
It depends. Wine- and mead-makers often add sulfur dioxide to their beverages because it kills microbes that lead to spoilage, while sparing the yeasts, which have evolved to be resistant to sulfur. (Cheers to Darwin!) However, there are plenty of producers who use alternative sterilization methods. Organic mead should not contain added sulfites.

What does mead taste like?
Like alcoholic honey (shocking, I know). In a word, divine.

Does mead come in different flavors?

Of course! Here are just some of the ones we tried:

I believe these are cherry vanilla, cranberry, and raspberry. And yes, that would be a jar o' Pez in the middle.

My favorite flavor was orange cinnamon; I also loved cranberry and cherry vanilla. Although it was very tasty, I only managed a sip of the jalapeno, which is probably just as well, as Dave claimed the next day that it was still eating him from the inside out. That might have put a damper on my Sunday bike ride.

What do you eat with mead?
A better question: What don't you eat?

Paella and gyros and ribs, oh my!

Our party of nine also enjoyed brisket, shrimp, potatoes and roasted vegetables. And of course, there was dessert. In addition to making an Easy Key Lime Pie, I tried a new cupcake recipe.

It may look like an ordinary vanilla cupcake. But here are the secret ingredients:

They go together like PowerBars and top tubes.

  You can find the recipe in this awesome book by Julie Hasson, otherwise known as my cupcake bible.

Now that you're a mead aficionado, are you going to start doing things like attending Renaissance Fairs and making your own chain mail?
No.