Too Hectic to Write, Enjoy a Recipe!

So, things have been over the top busy here in the Denglish (Deutsch-English) household.  I will update sooner, but, instead of a rant, observation, or tons of dry humor, I am posting my recipe for strawberry pancakes with vegan options.  Enjoy!

Strawberry Pancakes a la Denglish

Dry Ingredients:

¼ cup all purpose flour

¼ cup either flaxseed meal, bran, or grinded oats (old fashioned oats that you have thrown into the food processor)

½ to ¾ cup whole wheat flour

2 Tablespoons brown sugar

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

Wet Ingredients:

1 egg OR ¼ cup soy yogurt (the beauty of this, you can use either vanilla or berry flavored)

1 cup milk (I use almond milk)

2 Tablespoons vegetable oil

1-2 Tablespoons Vanilla extract or sugar free vanilla syrup (make my own and used that)

1 cup chopped fresh strawberries or frozen strawberries that have been thawed

Mix together all dry ingredients, making sure you get them evenly mixed so the grains aren’t formed in one area.  Reserve some of your flour to the side.  Mix together wet ingredients. Add wet to dry and stir, adding in additional flour if needed to thicken.  Stir in strawberries and let sit a few minutes.  When heating your skillet, keep on medium heat to prevent the strawberry pieces from scorching.  If using a griddle pan, use your best judgement. Add to hot pan in ¼ cup increments.

Note: I also threw in dried blueberries.  If you want to use an egg, put in the yolk, beat the whites into a meringue, and then stir the meringue into the batter, to ensure fluffier pancakes.

Guten Appetit!

The Adventures of a Southern Daughter-in-Law

Whew..hear that sound?  It's the sound of me sitting down for ten minutes before running to the next task.  Thingss have been veddy veddy busy in the Southern Gal household.  Herr Hubby started his new job, the girls went back to school after Spring Break (and THAT was the sound of my happy heart skipping a beat at being home alone again in the mornings), and my mother-in-law fell while walking in the forest, breaking her arm near the wrist.  After an emergency operation to put a nice titanium plate in there, I picked her up last week and brought her home. 

I actually don't mind helping and, thankfully, all this running around has taken my mind of the fact that there is chocolate in my house and I am not allowed to eat it.  Between cooking my meals, cooking meals for the kids and hubby, and cooking a meal every other day for my in-laws since my mother-in-law is one handed, I'm kind of cooked out.  So, what do I do?  I bake, naturally!  Granted, they were pear bran muffins that went into the freezer upon cooling, but it was a bit of therapy for me to turn my stress into a tangible object my family can enjoy.  Pooch is recovering nicely, in fact, she's giving me a very dirty look from her bed; apparently the clacking of the keys on my keyboard is disrupting her post-walk beauty sleep. 

I have managed to knock off twelve pound using South Beach, to which Greenie replied, "Oh.  I can't tell you've lost any weight at all."  Hmmm...the rather nasty side of me held back from saying, "Yes, dear, and you're stomach is protruding as well."  That, however, could be due to the fact that she's currently got a kid growing in there.  What?  Oh, didn't I tell you?  Oh yes, she's reproducing, again.  This should be fun. 

I do feel great though.  Apparently a new diet and a bit more exercise has helped my skin, my weakened back, and my energy levels.  I now use that extra energy at MIL's house.  She is grateful for all the help but I somehow feel as if I should be wearing an apron, my hear in a severe bun, and curtsy upon entering.  Perhaps a faux British accent just to mix things up a little bit.  I really think it has to do with the whole "southern hospitality" thing I have going on.  I feel like I really, really need to help someone out when they need it. Not out of guilt, but out of genuine curtesy.  The result?  A very tired gal. 

Okay, off to grab a cup of coffee and get on my next bout of DIL duties for the day.  Herr Hubby and I have our eighth wedding anniversary next Monday and will be spending Sunday in a hotel suite with just the two of us.  I have a feeling once we get there and the excitement wears off we will be figuring out what's missing.  Perhaps it will be the mental image of Wild Child swinging around the room like a monkey, or Girly Girl asking a million questions about how things work.  Regardless, this little mini vacation is exactly what this girl needs.  Have a good week, y'all.

It's Not You, It's Me!

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth after imbibing in a fall off the wagon carb extravaganza.  I've just been busy somewhere in the confines of Mommyland.  I'm in the groove with South Beach but, to be perfectly honest, am now giving my kitchen dirty looks every time I go in there now.  I make two breakfasts and lunches every day.  One for the kids, one for me, and then we all eat the same dinner.  I am seeing results, however slowly I feel that might be.  I hate surprises and am the "turn to the last page of the book to see who the killer is after having read two chapters" type of girl, so you can imagine how painful it is for me to wait.  I want the weight off NOW but it took me longer than two weeks to put that weight on, so it will take me longer than two weeks to take that weight off.

My mom, god bless her soul, sends me my favorite things in care packages.  You cannot get Reese cups here unless you are willing to pay the equivalent of $3.00 for a package, which I'm not.  So, she sends me Reese cups.  Germans aren't big on peanut butter.  Nutella, yes, peanut butter, not so much.  My husband, who thinks cold pickled herring wrapped around a dill pickle is a delicacy, claims PB to be "disgusting". You can see why he's not allowed to cook (that and he usually completely forgets he's cooking and the kitchen fills with smoke).  I've been eyeballing my Reese cups, hearing them call out sweetly to me.  I had to have "the talk" to them. 

"Listen, my chocolately peanut buttery, sweetheart, it's not you, it's me.  You are an addiction.  I love you so much that I can never, never get enough of you and, because of that, my ass and hips have reached epic proportions.  I need a break from you for a while until I can get my priorities in order.  It won't be long!  I promise!  Don't call me, I'll call you."

It's also been Spring Break here in the land of the cows (I call my village that because sometimes I feel like the cow to human ratio is frightfully close) and Girly Girl has been home now for a full week.  Her first day off we made Easter Nest cookies from the recipe I got off of penniesonaplatter.com, which, along with annies-eats.com, have THE BEST recipes on this side of the universe.  I ran out of regular white flour so I substituted the rest with whole wheat flour and am told by Girly Girl they turned out "super duper yummylicious".   I also made bunny and chick cookies from the same dough and the girls decorated the bunny and chick cookies and I decorated the nest cookies.  Great fun was had by all and I am proud to say, I did not eat one single cookie or drop of frosting.  Great joy was had by friends and neighbors and Herr Hubby's co-workers as I passed them out to get them out of the house, we had somewhere along the lines of fifty cookies.  My one year old nephew loved the buttercream frosting so much, he scraped it off the cookie with his teeth, green smeared all over his face, while looking around frantically for more green goo to hype up with. 

Other than that, I have been trying to keep Girly Girl busy with lots of mom and GG type activities.  Yesterday we went to a bistro to meet up with other ex-pats to proofread the articles for the upcoming issue of the magazine our club puts out.  I was editor for this edition and Girly Girl really enjoyed being around tons of grown women, feeling the relaxed atmosphere as we all chatted and proofed at a leisurely place.  Girly Girl rarely gets to go to downtown HH anymore and thrives on the whole adventure of Mommy finding the perfect parking space and then walking along quaint, tree-lined streets while we go about finding our destinations.  She also loved the fact that we parked near a station house for policemen and stopped to tell them, "We parked right there.  Can you watch our car?"  Which was sweet, but the meter only let you pay for an hour at the time, which meant I had to creep about Mission Impossible style to get back to the meter to feed it or face a ticket.  Bless her heart, she was so proud of herself for making sure our car was safe.

We also attented a tradition that I still don't quite understand but find fun anyway, the Osterfeuer, or to translate it, the Easter bonfire.  Our village gathered up plenty of dry kindle and started a blazing bonfire, well, the volunteer fire department did.  Tents were set up for hot chocolate, Glühwein (spiced wine warmed with a shot of rum), beer, Stockbrot dough (wrap around a stick and rotate over fire, a different version of roasting marshmellows) and plenty of hot dogs and what not.  Wild Child went on a mission to find as many rocks and sticks as possible and Girly Girl found friends and went about baking her bread over the fire.  After a while, Wild Child ran up and asked if we could go home.  So I drove her home and Herr Hubby stayed with Girly Girl.  It was a nice way for our little family to get out and for me to get a change of scenery. 

I look forward to seeing what the Easter Bunny will bring the girls (ahem, meaning I have to get the stuff out of my locked closet) and going on an Easter egg hunt out in the wild with the family here.  I hope everyone has a relaxing Easter and manages to enjoy themselves in whichever way possible.