Party Puffery, A Tutorial

With my birthday this week, I'm in hit-and-miss party planning mode. I know it's... unconventional... throwing your own party, but I love baking, unusual themes, seeing smiles, and knowing loved ones are there, stress-free, having a good time. To me, that's a gift.

But this year my budget is really tight. As in, virtually nonexistent. But it's okay, the challenge has forced me to get creative and transform things around the house.

For instance, would you believe the handmade puffs above were made from these humble offerings? Here, look:

Old packing paper from moving. Coffee filters. Straight sewing pins. Styrofoam balls.

I have tons of crinkled-up paper and tissue from moving. I had a trash bag full of paper that had been wound around glasses and crumbled in corners of boxes and wrapped around breakables. As I was about to toss it in the car last week, headed for the recycling drop, I scolded myself: find a way to use it for the party, then recycle it.

And a puffery craze was born. Here's what I did:

 Find paper or tissue around the house. It can be anything: newpaper, old paperback books, magazines, catalogues, packing paper, grocery/fast food paper sacks, old lists, term papers, drawings... anything so long as it's clean. Cut the pieces into uniform circles in any size you like. I traced around a flattened out coffee filter (8-12 cup size) for my puffs.

Grab your paper or coffee filter- just one now- and pinch together in the middle as in the picture above. Give it a good little twist at the base of your pinch.

Pin it on your styrofoam ball. Just jab the pin right in. (The size of your balls will determine the overall dimension of your puffs, of course. I used grapefruit-sized balls for these, but am on the lookout for a few bowling ball-sized ones, too. Your preference.)

 Continue pinching and pinning your circles. The closer you can get them, the fuller- and better!- the puff.  Here's my packing paper puff with the top completed:

 I estimated that I could pinch and pin a puff (say that fast five times) in ten minutes. Or a bit longer, if you were horsing around with your sister and jamming out to that song from the Subaru commercial during the process.

And certainly, you could spray paint these. Or use colored tissue. Or dye your coffee filters. Or use colorful scrap paper. Your imagination's the limit! I think I'm going to try a few with water-logged, vintage book pages and old Anthropologie catalogues.

Once they're done, secure a hanging ribbon using a touch of hot glue. Then hang to your heart's delight!

Truth be told, I think this will be my most favorite party yet. :)  -Brin

Uses For Leftover Cornbread

I had a post planned for today about uses for leftover cornbread. (While this may not be an issue for you, it is for this single, Southern gal.) I mean, what to do with all the sweet, cake-like hunks from yesterday's pan? I had no idea, so I began researching.

Then... a snafu. An emergency errand left the little brown dog home alone. Alone and unhappy. So what did Millie do? She plopped her paws on the counter and scarfed down the leftover cornbread straight from the cast iron pan. I knew something was amiss the moment she greeted me at the door with yellow crumbs under her mouth and on her fur. Bad dog. BAD DOG!

Fortunately I had backup leftover cornbread in baggies in the freezer. But Millie's bad binge set me back. My photos to accompany this post were not going to happen today.

Sigh.

Ah well. Without further ado, here are my new top uses for leftover cornbread, in no particular order:

1. Cornbread Croutons. Cube leftover cornbread into 1 inch cubes. Tumble onto parchment lined or nonstick baking pan and drizzle with 4-5 Tablespoons butter. Stir or turn lightly to coat. Toast at 450 degrees for 5-7 minutes, turning once halfway through baking, or until croutons are your favorite shade of browned. Serve in salads, or over soup or chili.

2. Chicken and Cornbread Dressing. This is my favorite use for leftover cornbread. Crumble approximately 4-5 cups of stale cornbread into a large bowl. Add in 4-5 cups of stale bread, pinched or cut to 1 inch cubes. (I save the ends of french bread, all leftover bread, biscuits, rolls, crackers, etc., for this purpose.) Toss the cornbread and bread together. To this mixture, add: 2 stalks celery, chopped; 1 small onion, chopped and sauted in 4 T. butter; 2 hardboiled eggs, chopped; 2 eggs, lightly beaten; 1 can cream of celery soup, 1 can cream of chicken soup; 2 T. dried sage; 2 T. dried parsley; salt and pepper; 4 cups shredded chicken.  Mix together, adding chicken broth or water to thin, if desired. Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour or until done and lightly browned. Serve with mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce.

3. Cornbread Salad. I've made this a time or two using variations of this recipe and have gotten rave reviews each time. Easy!

4. Squash Casserole. Crumble leftover cornbread into casserole dish. In a pan over medium high heat, cook 3 sliced yellow squash and 1 small onion, finely chopped, until tender. Drain and add to cornbread. Stir in 2 cups cheddar cheese, shredded; 1 egg; salt, pepper, and sage to taste. Stir to combine. Turn into lightly greased baking dish. Dot with 1/2 stick butter. Bake at 350 degrees for 30-35 minutes or until set and lightly browned. Yum.

5. Cornbread Pudding. This recipe is very similar to one my Grandmother has. It's a keeper.

6. Cornbread and Milk. My Great Grandfather, Henry, had the same dinner most every night: cornbread and milk. As a girl, I always thought it looked gross. Now I'm a fan. Crumble 1 cup or a large hunk of cornbread into a tall glass. Pour 1 1/2 cups cold milk over. Sprinkle with sugar. Eat with spoon. A poor, country farmer's dinner for sure.

7. Cornbread Crumbs. Butter cornbread and lightly toast in 450 degree oven. Cool and pulse in food processor (or crumble up) until you have a fine crumb. Use in casseroles and recipes in place of bread crumbs.

If all else fails, feed cornbread to the birds. Birds, not dogs. wink

Do you have any other suggestions for leftover cornbread? I'd be happy to hear them! -Brin

Okra Canning Day

 It's snowing. I've been canning okra. Somehow these things go together to me.

Is okra primarily a southern food? I can't imagine not having okra around. When I was young, my Dad would buy gallon jars of pickled okra when he went to the "city". My siblings and I would nearly hyperventilate when we saw the jars lined up in the back of the car. Nothing said "treat" like pickled okra.

Now I'm buying Star of David okra seed and canning farmer's market bounty in the meantime. It's still a treat: the growing, the canning, and the eating.

Somehow life's come full okra circle...

Waste Not, Want Not: A Rug for Millie

Millie needed a soft, comfy place to lounge this fall and winter. She just did. So I found a beautiful rug in the new Pottery Barn catalogue and drooled over it for about half an hour. That's all I did, though. Tiramisu taste on a 'Nilla wafer budget, you understand.

So I did what any resourceful (read: desperate) country girl would do: I rounded up an armload of old t-shirts and, with gleaming scissors held high above my head, sounded the charge! In no time I was surrounded by a mountain of t-shirts hacked into strips and confetti. I swept the confetti pieces under the couch and rolled each strip into softball-sized balls and found the largest crochet hook I could find. Then I turned on the TV and got down to business.

Don't judge me. I can't crochet. I mean, I don't know what in the world I'm doing. When I was ten, the girl at the blueberry farm - the one my Mom wanted me to be friends with - tried to teach me how to crochet potholders. I guess some of it stuck; I can read knitting patterns... and music... and part of the New Testament in Spanish... but I still can't read anything having to do with crochet. I just play with balls of t-shirt strips and a hook until, after three straight hours of the History Channel, I can lean over the arm of the couch and yell, Look! A rug for Millie!

The rug so far gobbled up seven t-shirts and measures roughly three feet across. So either I need more shirts or Millie will have to shrink. Before someone asks, I started at the bottom of each shirt, on the right side, and cut a continuous two-inch stripe, horizontally, up the body of the shirt. Like peeling an apple. Then I did something (?) with loops and that crochet hook until it looked like this. I really don't know what I did, (UPDATE: crocheters say I single crocheted through the back loops. Eureka! Thanks, crafty ladies!) so please don't ask for a pattern. If you do, I'll have to come to your house and steal all your t-shirts, especially if you have any plum, cranberry or golden raisin-colored ones. I want those colors next. *grin*

(For another Waste Not, Want Not idea, check out my Thrifty Nifty Napkins, where I cut up more old clothes to make household things.)

Waste Not, Want Not: Thrifty Nifty Napkins

Waste is worse than loss.

The scope of thrift is limitless.

-Thomas A. Edison

I ran out of napkins, paper towels and Kleenex the same day. It always happens that way, doesn't it? Later that evening, in our little local store's toiletry asile, my eyes bugged out of my head. Who pays $4 for a box of Kleenex? I wondered. Oh yeah. Me. I did. When I made $125,000 a year, I did.

But no more. Oh no. These are the days of layoffs and wipe-outs. These are the days of bail-outs and sell-offs. These are not the days of $4 Kleenex. I got so alarmed that a pack of paper towels, a sack of napkins and a box of Kleenex was going to run me almost $15 that I backed out of the aisle altogether. (I bought a Hershey's with almonds instead. The trip wasn't a total loss.)

Back home, I began rummaging through my bins of scrap material. I came upon my used-clothes stash. Oh yeah! I forgot about these pajama pants, I thought, as I pulled the baby-blue cowgirl print from the middle of the stack. They used to be some of my favorite pajamas before the spaghetti strings frayed on the top and the rear got stretched-out on the pants.

So you can guess what I did. I slit the pant legs up the side and undid the elastic and cut four pieces - each 13 inches square. Then I ironed them flat. Starting at the bottom right corner, I folded the bottom side up 1/2 inch and ironed it flat. I repeated this 'fold and iron' step all the way around the square. Now it measured 12 1/2 inches. So I turned the sides in again, 1/2 inch around, and ironed all the way around again. There. After I stitched the hem down - two with the sewing machine and two by hand, I had four perfect square feet of pajamas -turned - reusable Kleenex. And I still had fabric left over. Take that, expensive napkins and tissue!

I've only used them for a few days now, but I really love them. Toss in the wash and reuse. And reuse. And use again. My once-favorite pj's have a new life. It's strangely gratifying.

What's that old mantra my Grandma used to have? Oh. Of course: Use it up, Wear it out, Make it Do, or Do Without. I think Grandma Elizabeth would be proud.

So don't be surprised, family and friends, if you find a few handmade hankies tied in ribbon tucked in your stocking this year. I promise you'll love them, and I further promise they won't be made out of my old pajamas. (In case you were already worried.)

And if... by chance... anyone else is hung up over the $4 Kleenex thing, too, here's a great tutorial on how to make these.

Stay warm this weekend! -Brin

(By the way, I later broke down and cut up the top of that pajama set, too. And I cut up the pants below the knee. I got five more hankies of various sizes for a total of nine reusable hankies. Wow! The rest of the fabric went into my Postage Stamp Quilt basket so nothing went to waste. )