Pumpkin Pancakes with Sauteed Apples

I first started making these pancakes the year Brian and I were married. They have since become a seasonal ritual, and every year, we both await the crisp tang of autumn with great anticipation. On Saturday mornings, when the air is chilly and there is usually a cozy, gray drizzle pattering against the windows, I roll up my sleeves and start measuring spices.

It’s rare that I follow a recipe exactly as written. I’m apt to fiddle, especially with spices, but I have always found the proportions in this particular recipe to be absolutely perfect, and I have yet to find a breakfaster who disagrees.

I’m not sure what I love most about these pancakes. The flavor is pure autumn bliss. The texture is fluffy but dense, perfect for warming and filling you up on a cold, fall morning. These pancakes are basically fool-proof and come out perfect every time.

As a matter of fact, the only experimenting I have ever felt compelled to try with this recipe has been in my choice of topping. Initially, these were served simply with a spread of butter and drizzle of maple syrup. Since my children both require a high-calorie diet, I did less spreading with their butter and more slathering.

And, when I say slather, I mean slather.

What did I tell you?

Well, neither my morning tummy nor my round-the-clock waistline could handle that, but I liked the decadence of the kids’ pancakes, all warm with spices and dripping with glistening butter. I furrowed my brow and determined to come up with a more adult indulgence, and then it came to me: apples.

I know, why are you not surprised?

So, one Saturday morning in September, I sauteed some apples with a little butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon. I topped the pancakes with a big scoop of the apples and a stream of hot maple syrup (the real stuff!)

Delicious! Apple pie meets pumpkin pie meets breakfast. What on earth could be better?

Pumpkin Pancakes
from Martha Stewart Living, October 2006

1 1/4 cups flour
2 T sugar
2 t. baking powder
1/2 teaspoon each cinnamon, ground ginger, and salt
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
pinch of ground cloves
1 c. milk
6 T canned pumpkin puree
2 T melted butter
1 egg
butter and syrup, for serving

Whisk flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, ground ginger, salt, nutmeg, and cloves.
In a separate bowl, stir together milk, pumpkin puree, melted butter, and egg; fold mixture into dry ingredients.

Melt some butter in a skillet over medium heat; pour in 1/4 cup batter for each pancake. Cook pancakes about 3 minutes per side; serve with butter, sauteed apple slices, and syrup.

Sauteed Apple Slices

1 T butter
1 T brown sugar
hearty shake of cinnamon (about 1/4 t.)
2 Macintosh or other tart apples, peeled, cored, and sliced very thin

Heat the butter in a small frying pan. When the butter bubbles, add the brown sugar and the cinnamon. Cook for 1 minute. Add the apple slices and sautee until soft, about 4 minutes. Serve hot over pancakes with real maple syrup.

Note: If you like your apples more caramelized, you can increase the butter and brown sugar, cooking it for a couple of minutes into a syrup. Then, add the apple slices. Personally, I think the pancakes are rich enough (though, incidentally, they are not at all high in fat and arguably rather nutritious with the addition of the pumpkin) that I prefer the apples as written.

Liturgical Line-Up

Michaelmas Day, also known as the Feast of the Archangels, is just around the corner—on Wednesday. Follow the links below for some fabulous ways to celebrate! (I’m in an alliterative mood, so bear with me.)

Bake some bannock (picture of mine here).
Tell a tale.
Serve up a slump.
Wear some wings (nothing like a little good ole fashioned role playing)

But, most importantly:
Pray a prayer.

Sts. Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel, pray for us!

Sunday

“For about a hundred years we have so concentrated on one of the virtues—‘kindness’ or mercy—that most of us do not feel anything except kindness to be really good or anything but cruelty to be really bad. Such lopsided ethical developments are not uncommon, and other ages too have had their pet virtues and curious insensibilities. And if one virtue must be cultivated at the expense of all the rest, none has a higher claim than mercy—for every Christian must reject with determination that covert propaganda for cruelty which tries to drive mercy out of the world by calling it names such as ‘Humanitarianism’ and ‘Sentimentality.’ The real trouble is that ‘kindness’ is a quality fatally easy to attribute to ourselves on quite inadequate grounds. Everyone feels benevolent if nothing happens to be annoying him at the moment. Thus a man easily comes to console himself for all his other vices by a conviction that ‘his heart’s in the right place’ and ‘he wouldn’t hurt a fly’, though in fact he has never made the slightest sacrifice for a fellow creature. We think we are kind when we are only happy: it is not so easy, on the same grounds, to imagine oneself temperate, chaste or humble.”

- C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

T.G.I.F.

When I was growing up, I was a big fan of the ABC Friday night line-up known as TGIF—Thank God It’s Friday, but I never really understood how deep my gratitude for Friday evening could grow until I found myself grown and married.

Friday nights are a sacred in-gathering of all my most cherished blessings. My husband walks in the door, and there is this exhalation of all that has separated us throughout the week. All obligations are hung up to rest, and we can relax in the embrace of home and family.

Every night, I try to greet my husband with a smile, a kiss, the aromas of a home-cooked meal, but on Friday nights, I up the ante.

Dinner simmers in the Crockpot, so that nothing, no obligations need distract me from the joy of togetherness. And, in return, he sets aside his cell phone, his lifeline to all things work-and-world-related.

I light candles to welcome him, to mark the end of the work-week, usher in the gift of weekend. When it’s colder, the hearth crackles and the warmth of home becomes a tangible reality.

After dinner, he pulls out his guitar, strums praises, and we harmonize. Our evening devotion draws us upward, inward, settling us down together in this home. I tell stories on the couch, a child curled up under each arm and my mature, intellectual soulmate listening with rapt attention, too. This is family, this give and take and praise, this singing and this listening. This is sacred.

Pajamas donned and prayers said and children nestled down for sleep, we tiptoe back to the comforting arms of the sofa. We snuggle up with mugs of tea, a weekly movie date night that costs nothing and is worth everything. For forty-eight hours, he is mine, and we are home.

Yes, thank you God! It’s Friday.

Photo credit: Old Window and Wall by Petr Kratochvil

Baking on Holy Cross Day

Baking is a wonderful activity to share with your children. So what if you all get a little messy? You were going to have to clean up anyway, right? Besides, if your children are anything like mine, they are going to make a mess somewhere, somehow, no matter what you do. Why not contain the mess to the kitchen and channel those mischievous creative juices into something productive?

Baking time is prime teaching time.

Measurements
Fractions
How to level the flour
How to be cautious
The importance of following directions
Kitchen safety
Learning to use kitchen equipment
Chemical reactions
Numbers
Letters

the list is practically endless. Get creative about finding learning opportunities in your daily activities.

Best of all, baking time provides the perfect opportunity to really talk with your children. While making Holy Cross cookies and a loaf of boulé marked with a cross, I had time to chat with Sophia about the finding of the True Cross.

We learned that St. Helen was an English princess, so we used currants in our cookies—a traditional British treat.

We practiced making the Sign of the Cross.

We thanked Jesus for His great sacrifice for us, and asked God to help us learn to carry the crosses in our own lives.

“Will Daddy get a cookie?”

”Yes, when he gets home. After dinner tonight.”

“Does Daddy love Jesus?”

“Daddy loves Jesus very much.”

“I love Jesus. And Mary.”

“And cookies?”

“Mm-hmm.”

The BEST Cinnamon Rolls...with Instructions for Overnight Rising

Cinnamon buns are, without question, best eaten fresh out of the oven. The trouble is, nobody wants to wait around for hours while they wait for dough to rise and be punched down and rise again before sitting down to breakfast.

 

The recipe shared here can be prepared the night before. Simply go through the shaping stage, and then, rather than letting the rolls rise on the counter for 2 hours, let them rise in the refrigerator overnight. They can then be removed from the refrigerator for 30 minutes prior to baking.

I pull them out before going for my morning run. Then, I have time to pop them in the oven while I take my shower, and the intoxicating aroma of cinnamon does the job of waking the rest of the family, along with some freshly brewed coffee.

Blessed Holy Cross Day

Lift high the cross,
the love of Christ proclaim
till all the world adore
his sacred Name.

I have heard people, even some who claim a Christian identity, question whether or not it matters if there really was a cross. “Does it matter if he really died? Can’t we just learn from his life?” they wonder.

If He did not die, then He did not rise.
If He did not rise, then Death is undefeated.

Others ask, “Why did he have to die? Couldn’t God have washed our sins by some other means?”

Perhaps.
But, He didn’t.
The only cleansing water we can hope in is the Blood of the Cross,
which washes whiter than snow.

Is there any point in wondering?
This is the path our Savior took,
and all His ways are righteous
and all His ways are just.

Glory be!

God bless you all this Holy Feast Day.

Multitude Monday

Here in the Pacific Northwest, the air is crisping and summer is being called away on a breath of breeze and bright September sunshine. I relish it all, and I give thanks…




# 51 - 65


for the perfect apple smell of fresh-picked Macintoshes,
the way the spicy scent of their white flesh instantly transports me home to childhood
for the batches of applesauce that tried my patience to breaking
but later rewarded me oh so sweetly.

for the smell of cinnamon that clung to my clothes with a whiff of nutmeg,
reminding me when minds were clearer how good it is
to pick an apple from a tree in an orchard by the lakes
and to boil it to frothy pulp,
to watch the fruit of your own womb work it in the mill,
her brow knit with concentration and her blond hair stuck to her head
by the steam of the next batch bubbling on the stove,
to remember that labors of love are never wasted
and that sticky apple-juice stained floors are the stuff of hopes and dreams.

for the first hot apple pie of the season, fresh from the oven

for the super-secret family pie crust recipe that I learned from my grandmother who never wrote down a recipe but welcomed me to learn at her elbow. I watched her carefully, making her version of heirlooms from scratch, and this is my priceless inheritance.

for jewel-toned jars lined up atop the kitchen cabinets
for a quaint little kitchen that is cramped and crammed with love and care
for the blessing of a home that enables me to dream and requires me to get creative

for the precious souls that I raise in these walls,
for the soulmate who daily walks beside me
and wakes beside me
and at night, folds me in his arms and whispers prayers into my hair.

for souls yet to be, who are as yet only dreams

for a God who dreamed Creation
and created dreamers
like me.

Silent Saturday

A picture is worth a thousand words. Do you have one that tells the story of your week? Or speaks of your hopes for the week to come? Share it with the Silent Saturdays community.

Learning Basket: Apples

Here's our learning basket from the first week of September! Better late than never, right? As you can tell, our theme this week was apples.

Applesauce Season
The Seasons of Arnold's Apple Tree
Apples for Everyone
Johnny Appleseed
How to Make an Apple Pie and See the World



Fresh apples (Honeycrisp, Macintosh, and Gala) from our u-pick adventure!
Holtzieger apple tree

Birthday Cupcakes for Mary

Today is the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary! This feast has been celebrated, particularly in the Eastern Church, since at least the sixth century.

This year, the children and I made cupcakes to mark the occasion. They are white (vanilla) to symbolize Mary’s holiness from birth; we filled them with white frosting to symbolize her Immaculate Conception, and we frosted them blue because it is Mary’s color, the color of the Virgin. And, of course, it wouldn’t be a real party without sprinkles, so Sophia supplied those! (And yes, there was a HUGE mess—and yes, it was worth it!)

I know a lot of my Protestant brothers and sisters don’t understand the love we Catholics and Orthodox bear our Blessed Mother. Don’t worry, we know celebrating Mary’s birthday isn’t a prerequisite for passing the pearly gates. All the same, who wouldn’t want to celebrate the woman whose humble “Yes” conceived the Savior of the World, whose prayers are ever for us, and who loves us as her own children just as Jesus asked her to?

Well, to each her own convictions. As for me and my household, we will light birthday candles for His Mother—and ours!

Happy Birthday, Blessed Mother! Pray for us always! We love you!

BUTTERCREAM FROSTING

1 1/3 c. shortening
5 1/3 c. confectioners’ sugar
1/4 t. salt
1 1/2 t. vanilla extract
1/2 c. heavy cream

Beat shortening until fluffy. Add the rest of the ingredients and beat slowly for 30 seconds, or until sugar is somewhat incorporated. Then, beat on high for about 2 minutes. Add food coloring, if desired. There is enough here to fill and frost 24 cupcakes. (With a little leftover for licking the beaters!)

The shortening in this recipe will make the frosting truly white, as opposed to a traditional buttercream recipe that uses, um, butter. It is also extremely fluffy.

Apple Cider Mama Presses Her Own Apple Cider

 
Over Labor Day Weekend, our family met my Idahoan in-laws mid-state for a campout and orchard visit. We picked our own organic peaches and apples, eating them out of hand right off the tree. We also enjoyed a hayride through the orchards, and at the end of our visit, even pressed our own cider with the apples we had picked. We used a combination of Galas and Macs (Macintoshes) for the cider, and boy was it delicious!
 
Our peaches yielded a pretty collection of halves in juice to be enjoyed in the cold, dreary days of winter. Our apples are destined for jars of applesauce and spiced apple butter and the first delicious pies of the season.

In the meanwhile, we’ve been enjoying some hot, spiced cider with molasses crinkle cookies, the old recipe passed down through my hometown’s Junior League, the only one my family has used since I can remember. It almost seems a waste, though. Who wants cookies when you can pluck sun-blushed gems from the full basket on the table?