Green-Eyed Monster

Jealousy can be a terrible thing.  I developed an Electra Complex at a very early age.  I was a Daddy’s Girl, he was my quiet hero, telling me stories of an innocent childhood in rural Hungary before the Holocaust.  He was my knight in leather-bound armor, showing me the wonders of his collection of books, teaching me to read Hebrew before I entered the first grade and properly learned English.  How dare he smile up at my mother like that as she serves him his stuffed cabbage!

Jealousy can be a terrible thing.  I was the Little Princess, the much wanted and finally adopted heiress to my parents’ meager possessions.  The interloper was my brother, Skeezix.  All of a sudden, this mewling, pooping boy was taking up my parents’ time.  Take him back, I know you have the receipt!

Jealousy can be a terrible thing.  Mewling and pooping turned into obnoxious and wild (wild being the 60s and 70s term for today’s ADHD).  Skeezix would draw his space wars in my pristine Partridge Family notebook.  He would take his orange Hot Wheels race tracks and whap me with them while I was mooning over Captain Kirk on TV.  How many times did I have to tell my parents to take that kid back?!?!

Jealousy can be a terrible thing.  I went to an all-girls high school which taught that each and every one of us was unqiue.  They taught us this wonderful lesson while all the girls sat in their seats wearing rugby shirts, flair jeans skirts and Frye boots.  Or argyle socks and clogs.  Or Huckapoo print blouses and skirts with Jordache written on the back pocket.  Everyone but me.  My mom believed in hand-me-downs from my cousin from the Sixties instead of the brand new fashions of the Seventies.  Not fair, I wanted to be unique like everyone else!

I want this kitchen!

Jealous can be a terrible thing.  I want the kitchen that you see on the Food Network.  I want two giant stainless steel sinks.  I want an island big enough for both Ju-Boy and me to cook together without one of us elbowing the other into a pot of boiling water.  I want gleaming copper pots hanging overhead and a cozy little nook with overstuffed armchairs surrounded by my ever-growing cookbook collection.  I want a kitchen worthy of the Food Network star I am inside!

Jealousy can be a terrible thing!  I’ve created Hadar Bars for Hadar, Luscious Lambies for Leah, and Dalia Bars for, well, Dalia, of course.  But the requests for fame keep coming, even though that person already has a Miriyummy confection named after her.  So, at the behest of someone who loves to be immortalized in sugar and spice, I futzed around in the kitchen just to keep a certain green-eyed monster at bay, or at least in a cinnamon coma.

These little mouthfuls of cinnamon are yummy.  Jealousy can be a wonderful thing…

Mini-Cini Bites (alias, You Know Who Bars)

 

Photo taken by baskerville_gal -- I tried to photograph these babies but they were gobbled up before I could and I have to make them again, but it's difficult to keep up, so many people want me to name recipes after them, hmmmmm...

• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1 egg
• 1/2 cup flour
• 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup finely chopped pecans
• powdered sugar

1. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C (350 degrees F).
2. In a mixing bowl, cream the butter and the sugar.
3. Add the egg and beat until light and fluffy.
4. Combine the flour, cinnamon and salt.  Add to the creamed mixture and beat until smooth.  Stir in the pecans.
5. Spread into a greased 8 inch (20 cm) greased (or parchment paper lined) square pan.
6. Bake for 35-40 minutes or until a wooden toothpick comes out clean.
7. Cut into small squares while still warm and dredge in powdered sugar.