Busy Hands Homestead

The sunshine last until late in the evening and greats us early in the morning.  We have been digging in the garden, running through the sprinkler, chasing our adolescent chickens and before I know it, the kids are up too late again and when I wake them up they are grumpy.  On morning like these I have a favorite breakfast recipe: puff pancakes .  I drag myself down the stairs, preheat the oven, melt the butter, mix the batter, and while the pancakes bake I wrestles kids out of pajamas, into clothes and comb sleep tangles out of hair.  When the timer beeps we have perfectly puffy pancakes.  The more often I have made these the more I have explored possible puff pancake combinations and the options are endless.  Here are my favorites: 1. Thin slices of  Apples and Brie added to the butter while the oven preheats.  The results are less puffy, but delicious with a drizzle of maple syrup.   2. A cu...

I have been wanting to make homemade pop-tarts for what seems like an eternity. There is nothing like being confined by freezing wind and driving snow to bring out the baker in me.  "Lets warm up the kitchen and make pop-tarts." To this Ivory promptly responded: "What are pop-tarts?" To this moment it had never occurred to me that she has not experienced a pop-tart, which means that I have no pressure to meet the expectations set by the pop-tarts sold on grocery store shelves. So we started mixing, rolling and cutting. We spread filling into the center of the hears: strawberry butter I canned last summer, slowly caramelized apples that were a bit mealy for eating out of hand and finally a dark purple plum butter that is a reminder of the last warm sunny days of fall.    While snow piled up outside, we ate warm pop-tarts with a side of scrambled eggs and a good strong cup of coffee for breakfast.  It was delicious. To be honest, I don't ...

"Mama! Painted trees!" I glance back at Sylvan in my rear view mirror and then back out of the windshield to try and decipher what he is telling me.  The car smells of apples. "Painted Trees! He repeats his phrase until my eyes rest on a line of small red Norway maples that line the road leading into a yet undeveloped development. Oh.  Painted trees. Yes, they are beautiful. This is the first autumn that Sylvan is really taking in.  He wades through the dunes of yellow maple leaves to pick up they few red ones and hand them to me. "Painted Leaves." Ivory begs daily, reminds me constantly: "Mama you promised that we could make Halloween decorations."   "Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow.  Before dinner. After dinner. After School. Now!!!!!!!!" I know I promised. I sigh. I feel guilty. I say things like: "We have to make food for your dad first." or "It is too late." or "later." or simply "oh, Ivor...

A small piece of paper torn form a Red Lion Hotels notepad has been floating around my kitchen for the better part of two weeks. It has been clothes pinned to my cooling rack above my kitchen counter.  It has been shuffled under papers on the catch all corner.  It has been used almost daily for the last week and a half. I am afraid I am going to lose it in the shuffle. Scribbled on it is a recipe for Egg-less Apple Cider Pancakes. A recent experiment that turned out to be fantastic.  Ivory, Sylvan, a few more kiddos (10 total), two mamas and I gathered the early fruits of a transparent apple tree, passed them through the hopper and pressed fresh apple cider.  This left me with a giant bowl of sweet, fresh and delicious cider. We sipped cups of the thick juice, but eventually the kids stopped asking for it and I still had a bowl full left.   What to do with all that juice taking up valuable space in my fridge?  The solution: make panc...