Storytelling Recipes

Jimmy Panetta

Photo by Peggy Melanson

 

 

Italian by osmosis. © published by Medford Transcript 

Most of the wonderful things that happened in my life occurred around someone or something Italian. Even my first kiss was with an Italian boy. We were best friends growing up and when we got to that age of kissing, it made sense to try it out with each other. I remember that we licked our lips first and then giggled when they touched. Thinking it was all very silly, we couldn't understand why grownups made such a fuss over sloppy, wet lips. For weeks afterwards, when we looked at each other, we'd begin laughing all over again.

For almost forty years, I had an Italian best friend, Dottie. She taught me about all things Italian, how to talk and how to really laugh and, especially how to be kind. Amazingly, she put up with me even though I never liked Frank Sinatra.

Recently, while rummaging through the refrigerator, I came across a container of left-over spaghetti that brought tears to my eyes. Imagine weeping over cold spaghetti? The tears were in remembrance of another Italian, Jimmy Panetta who was my friend for many years. He even helped me bring my dog, Boris, to theVet's to be "put to sleep." As I sat in the back seat of his car with the dog's head on my lap, Jimmy kept turning around, as he drove, saying loudly, "make sure you keep patting that dog." We want him to remember the patting not the dying"

I remember standing aside while he threw spaghetti, mushrooms, onions, left-over vegetables and grated cheese into a bowl to make his famous "Spaghetti Pie." He'd wave dripping wooden spoons in the air while yelling as he cooked. "Now, you have to be careful and use real grated parmigano cheese. Don't use that store-bought stuff. And remember, the secret is the little pieces of garlic and chopped fresh tomatoes." All the while he talked, strings of spaghetti flew, olive oil dribbled and onion pieces scattered on the counter top. I've never seen anyone make such a mess in a kitchen and following the meal, he expected his dinner guests to clean it all up.

"Pa" Antonio Raponi

Photo by Peggy Melanson

One Of the Family

Jimmy brought me to visit 87 year old Antonio Raponi for Sunday dinner and was strangely subdued as we drove to "Pa's" house that first day. It was an amazing afternoon of eating, laughing, drinking home-made wine and watching a variety of people stream through the man's kitchen. As we were leaving, Antonio kissed me on the cheek and said, "you can call me "Pa" and to Jimmy he added, "Give her a couple of jars of tomatoes and vinegar peppers, take her out to garden and let her pick what she wants." It was while we were in the garden that Jimmy sighed with relief saying, I wasn't sure how it would work out since you're not Italian, but when Pa offers you his garden, you're one of the family." After that I was expected to show up every Sunday between twelve and one o'clock for dinner. Late one Sunday afternoon, after returning from a baby shower, I heard an Italian accented message on my answering machine.

" Hello, Peggy, this is Pa, I'm leaving a message on your "dummy."The bread is on your dish, waiting for you to cut it for us, and I made your favorite gravy (pasta sauce) with pork chops and carrots..... I'll wait 'till you come." Can you imagine the guilt I felt? Thereafter, any activities for Sunday were planned for after dinner at Pa's

Dottie, Jimmy and Pa have passed on to that "great kitchen in the sky," but I swear that they've teamed up to send me a new Italian friend and demanded that she take over and feed me properly. Recently, after being discharged from the hospital, following minor surgery, a new friend, Dolores (DeVellis), showed up at my door with a dinner consisting of stuffed "finger" peppers, chilled lemon string beans, a loaf of bread, fresh fruit and lots of Italian spirit. Following that, another Italian friend, Joan (Larason) kept reminding me of doctor appointments. Needless to say, I receovered quickly with all that Italian love.

The left-over spaghetti in my 'fridge became Jimmy's "Spaghetti Pie" and yes, I wept from missing all of them while preparing it. And that's OK because, I'm Italian! (by osmosis)

 

Jimmy Panetta's Spaghetti Pie

 

3 cups cooked cold (al denté) thin spaghetti (do not substitute)

1 tsp. bottled garlic or one crushed clove, sautéed 'for one minute

1 TBS. olive oil

1/2 cup sautéed sweet onion

1/2 cup sautéed mushrooms

1/2 cup shredded raw carrot

1/2 cup chopped, seeded fresh tomato

2 8 oz. containers egg substitute or 8 eggs

2-3 TBS. chopped fresh basil (or 1 tsp. dried)

1/4 cup grated Parmesano cheese

1/4 cup grated Cheddar or leftover hard cheese (not cottage)

1/2 cup each cooked chopped zucchini and broccoli

or use any left-over vegetables. Add as much as you like as long as it all fits in the pan.

salt, pepper, paprika to taste

 

Preheat oven to 350 Spray a large deep dish pie plate or casserole dish with cooking spray, spread olive oil on top. Carefully mix all ingredients together. If vegetables are hot, wait 'till they've cooled and add egg mixture. Pour into pan and sprinkle 1 TBS. parmesano cheese and paprika on top. Bake for 30-50 minutes 'till egg mixture is very firm. Serve with fresh Italian bread.

Recipe hint: Can be served for breakfast or pour your favorite pasta sauce over individual servings and offer as a main course with salad and fruit.

 

Pa and Lady Friends

photo by Peggy Melanson


Dottie & Peggy

Old Friends Fun and Food © published "Cook's Source" Magazine.

 
Like two joyful children we'd run, leaping and laughing along the banks of the Mystic River that flows through Somerville, Medford, and several other Massachusetts cities and towns before it enters the Boston Harbor. We didn't care what people thought of "the two old ladies" as we ran, sometimes stopping to grab hands and perform "spinning circles" or "whirling dervishes,"

We'd begin our Summer excursions to the River just after the 4th of July and would go there after our weekly grocery shopping for picnic lunches. Early in the day, she would prepare boneless fried chicken, salad and fruit, and put them in a plastic cooler, packed with blue ice packs. She never let me cook. I was allowed, however, to buy fresh scali bread at a local bakery and wine coolers at the liquor store to enjoy with our lunches.

With the Mystic River view just outside my window, I'm reminded of her every day, but especially in Summer, because we had so much fun gathering wild weeds along "our" river. She called them "Wild Feathers," tall spindly things with brown fluffy fronds at the top. Giggling, we would rummage around in the muck at the edge of the river to gather these tall wisps of wildness. Most of the time she'd simply plop down on the grass and send me out into the water.

Dorothy (Grosso) Shea was ten years older than me and kept reminding me of that fact with "duties of the young." "Pegala, I'm older than you, so please go get that one, the nice tall one, with the really big feathers... way out there... and I'll make you a nice bouquet when we get home," she'd say with a laugh. Most of the time, I'd abandon my shoes and wade barefoot to the spot she designated.

The "wild feathers looked like so much, dead stuff to me until she arranged them with cat-o-nine tails and colorful dried flowers in huge earthen containers. She tied the neck of the vases with jaunty bows. Kept in corners of rooms in entry ways or on a large table, they looked elegant. Everything looked elegant and felt and tasted better at Dottie's house.

"Since you're younger than me, you can carry the bundles up the stairs and I'll cook your favorite supper," she pronounced as her brown eyes glinted with mirth. I could almost taste and smell the aglio é ólio (macaroni with garlic, olive oil, grated cheese and hot peppers.)

We were "bestest" friends. (and that's how we pronounced it even into our old age) Though we were not related, she was my mother, sister and special confidant for thirty five years. She knew about etiquette and kindness and taught me good-manners as well as ways to be polite and caring to family and friends. Dottie was the one who instructed, "always bring a gift when you visit people, a nice loaf of bread, some cheese or a bottle of wine." Years ago, she even prepared a celebration complete with cake and card for each of my daughters when they "became women."

Often during our coffee klatches, she'd sing along with Sinatra when one of his tunes came on the radio. Laughingly, she would talk about how she wished that the crooner would come to our home-town of Somerville, Massachusetts, so she could feed him some real Italian food. None of that Hollywood stuff for old blue eyes!

Dottie knew every one of Frank Sinatra's songs and had a voice so sweet,that she challenged the angels.

All six of her grandbabies were mesmerized by the sweetness of that voice. "Itsy Bitsy Spider" took on new meaning when she sang it.

She probably would have been given Ella FitzGerald a run for her money if she had gone to New York when she was young and was asked to audition someplace in The Big Apple. Raised by her beloved Grandmother, she felt "beholden" and when Nonna said, "Please don't go, New York is full of bad people who will steal you away from me," she didn't go.

But I always saw a hint of misty sadness in her eyes whenever she sang in the kitchen and I knew that usung melodies lay heavy in her heart and soul.

I'll bet she's singing a duet of "I love New York" with Frank right now as she prepares some Aglio é ólio for the singer on some heavenly stove.

She was an old fashioned Italian cook. Pasta fagioli, lasagna made with egg noodles (not lasagna noodles) and at Easter, Pizza Chiena, (a cheese and cold-cut filled pie) Macaroni Aglio é ólio, (linguini with garlic and oil.) String Beans Vinaigrette and Bally Chicken Soup, (chicken broth with chicken and tiny meatballs) were some of my favorites.

She was a master storyteller and many times I was magically transported to her Grandmother's kitchen while she told tales of Nonna teaching her how to make the old peasant recipes or helping on the farm.

One delightful story was about Dottie's egg gathering, when the chickens used to peck at her ankles as she was heading towards the nests. "For stealing their eggs," she said. She acted out the entire process, complete with yelps, screeches and grand body language. Afterwards, she remarked, "I wonder why the little devils never pecked at Nonna's feet."

I'm sharing one of our family's favorite "Dottie Recipes," "Bally Chicken soup." My daughters, Linda and Lisa Thomspon swear it's magic! Working like a miracle when you're feeling sick or down, it perks you right up, and warms the tummy. They have fond memories of times spent in Dottie's kitchen, sitting before bowls of fragrant, steaming soup and great big slices of buttered Italian bread, while Dottie hovered over them saying, "mangia, mangia, (eat!, eat!)

This is a delightful, light Summer soup that can be served on those cool evenings after a walk by the river or the sea.

The vegetables in this soup are used for flavor only and the meatball liquid and vegetables are discarded or preserved for another recipe.

 

Bally Chicken Soup

 

1 large boned chicken breast

1/2 lb. ground hamburgerer or turkey

2 large carrots - each carrot cut into 4 pieces

2 stalks of celery - each stalk cut into 4 pieces

1 40 oz can chicken broth regular or not fat ( more t

1 tsp. dried parsley

salt & pepper to taste

1 chicken bouillon cube

1-1/2 cups #59 Ditalini dry macaroni

(cooked in water 10-12 minutes - or to desired tenderness)

 

 In a 5 quart soup pot, cover chicken breast, 2 pieces each of carrot and celery with water and bring to a boil. Simmer covered for 5 minutes. Turn heat off and allow chicken to sit (poach) in the covered pot while you prepare the remaining ingredients. Divide ground turkey into tiny, marble size meatballs, place meatballs with remaining two pieces each of carrot and celery in a small cooking pot to which the chicken bouillon cube has been added, cover meatballs with water. Bring to a boil and simmer for about 20 minutes. When meatballs are done, remove from heat and discard vegetables and liquid - Cook ditalini macaroni according to directions, rinse in cold water - set aside. Remove poached chicken from pot - discard vegetables and reserve chicken broth - cut chicken into strips. Place meatballs, sliced chicken, parsley, pepper and canned broth into original soup pot with reserved cooked chicken broth Bring to a boil and simmer for about 4-10 minutes. Add cooked macaroni and heat for a few minutes before serving. Sprinkle individual servings with grated parmesan cheese and dried red pepper flakes to taste. Delicious served with crunchy garlic or corn bread Mangia


Pilfered Orange Cranberry Scones© Medford Transcript 02/01

How many times have you lolled about in waiting rooms, rummaging through magazines and have come upon a recipe that you just had to have? "I'll just go straight up and ask the receptionist to make a copy for me," is my first inkling. I tried that a couple of times and it would be impossible to describe the look of dismay and absolute amazement that was forthcoming. "You want me to stop what I'm doing in this big and important job and copy a recipe for you... you just gotta be kidding," the receptionist's expression said. Once, a very busy front desk person whose elbow was leaning on the copy machine said, "no, we don't copy things for people. You'll have to buy the magazine somewhere." As I slinked away I thought, "why do they have these magazines all over the place if we can't utilize what's in 'em?" " I'll just sneak into the bathroom and rip the page out" was my next thought. Immediately I realized that if I walked out of the room towards the bathroom with the book in my hand, everyone would know what I was up to, so I sat and pondered my next step. Then, I muttered silently to myself, "Perhaps if I hide it behind another magazine, I can quietly tear one teeney weenie section at a time." I attempted that once, and to my ears, the sound was like a giant ocean wave, ripping, roaring, crashing and rebounding all around the small waiting room. Every head spun around, every eye looked at me accusingly. "We know what you're doing... tearing recipes out of waiting room magazines.." The look was in every eye and on every face. Lips curled up in derision, judgement and knowing smiles prevailed. Even little children sitting on their Mommy's laps said with their round little eyes, "We know what you're doing too! Naughty, naughty!"

Recently, I was in a doctor's crowded waiting room, once more contemplating how to get a newly desired recipe from a magazine into memory. Plotting furiously, my heart racing with fear, I glanced across the room and watched in utter amazement as a man sitting smack dab in front of the receptionist, in full view of a zillion people made a loud "aha" sound while reading McCalls magazine. He carefully spread open the magazine on the coffee table in front of him and folded down three pages tightly towards the binding and with blazing accuracy grabbed the top of each page and tore them out of the book, one by one. He never looked at the receptionist. No lightning struck, no thunder roared, no magazine police arrived with guns drawn and sirens blaring.

He slowly, happily and carefully turned each page to make sure he didn't miss any portion of his chosen recipes, ( and he had more than one), folded them neatly and brazenly placed them in his pocket, allowing them to stick out for all the world to see.

A few people glanced up at the tiny commotion and then returned to their own musings.. Nary a person blinked at the bold recipe thief. I was flabbergasted! That's it? No glaring accusers? No alarm bells ringing?

It was then that I was called into the doctor's office for my appointment. As I was leaving, I walked brazenly up to the table, picked up the magazine with the desired recipe and walked out the door.

I want you to know that I did it all for you! You, my fine readers are the recipients of an altered recipe garnered from a pilfered waiting room magazine.

Now that I've copied all the recipes into my computer and provided I can figure out a way to do it without being noticed or arrested, I'll return the purloined magazine on my next visit to the physician.

 

Pilfered Orange-Cranberry Scones
 

2 large egg whites

1/4 cup canola oil - or any vegetable oil

2/3 cup low fat buttermilk ( regular or non-fat)

1 TBS. fresh orange zest from 1 orange

1 TBS. baking powder

1 tsp. baking soda

1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg

1/4 tsp. salt

1-3/4 cups unsifted all-purpose flour

3/4 cup dried orange flavored cranberries ( available at Trader Joe's)( or plain dried cranberries)

1/2 cup chopped walnuts (optional)

1/3 cup yellow cornmeal

1/4 cup white sugar

1 TBS. cinnamon-sugar for topping

 

Preheat oven 400

In a large bowl, whisk first nine ingredients together - buttermilk, oil, egg whites, baking powder, orange zest, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt- Stir in flour, cornmeal, berries, nuts, and sugar. Mix with spatula to make a dough. The dough will be sticky. Turn out onto floured surface and with floured hands, knead 5-6 times. Place on ungreased baking sheet; flatten to 8-1/2 inch round. With floured knife, cut into 12 wedges. (do not separate wedges) Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar. Bake 17 to 20 minutes until golden - do not overcook - Let cool on wire rack until just warm. Gently separate wedges and serve with butter or softened cream cheese.

Recipe hint: Delicious served with orange tea or hot chocolate.


I Can't Believe I Hung Up On Spencer Christian©published by Stoneham Sun - Medford Transcript

 

With fresh, garden tomatoes available from warmer climates during almost any season, I am reminded of a story and a phone call that I shared with former ABC television's Good Morning America's weather forecaster, Spencer Christian. This lovable "punster" is quick to say he is not a meteorologist and that he got his big break by accident. After working as a news reporter for a year and a half at a Richmond, Virginia TV station, the general manager asked him to fill in just for the two weeks, since the regular forecaster was unavailable. The audience liked him so well that the station's ratings rose significantly during those weeks. When the regular person didn't come back, he was offered the position full time. He was reluctant to accept because he felt that his calling was as a swanky journalist, not a weatherperson. But a nifty increase in pay convinced him to give it a shot. And there you are... all things happen for a good reasons. He could be wasting away behind a desk writing unfathomable mysteries or running after stories in the rain, snow and bitter cold, and we would never get to appreciate his outstanding humor and gentle manner. This multi-talented man hosts a weekly program, "Spencer Christian's Wine Cellar," for Home & Garden Television Network. As a connoisseur of wines he has amassed a collection of over 1,000 bottles since 1977. The oldest bottles in his cellar date back to the turn of the century. He has written several entertaining books about weather, Geography and most recently a series of wonderful children's books under the general heading: "Spencer Christian's World of Wonders." Two books are titled, "Shake, Rattle and Roll" and "Can it Really Rain Frogs?" In addition, he can cook! which brings us back to why I called him in the first place. A year or so ago, on the Good Morning America show, Spencer demonstrated his cooking talents by preparing Lentil Pasta Sauce, made with fresh tomatoes and basil, and I have been preparing this quick and nourishing dish ever since. I wanted to adjust the recipe using canned tomatoes and dried herbs. Looking forward to presenting it on my "Food For Thought" local Cable TV show, I decided to call Spencer's office in New York to see if anyone could help. After two days, and many phone calls from my home, leaving messages on voice mail or being transferred, and given several different phone numbers in New York. I finally reached Spencer's Assistant, Amanda Denny, while I was at work, using the company phone, during business hours. Explaining my plight of canned versus fresh tomatoes to Amanda in whispered tones, and mentally counting up the quarters for repayment of the long distant call, I was amazed when she said, pleasantly, "Would you like to talk to Spencer, personally? He's right here! " "Ummm, ahhh, " I gurgled. I was struck almost silent, I forgot what I was calling about. I wasn't prepared to talk to himself! I just needed to ask a few questions about tomatoes, for heaven's sake. I didn't want to bother the man. She must have thought my garbled response to mean, "sure, OK, of course." Next, I heard the familiar voice of Spencer Christian, saying, "Hi Peggy, I've been trying to reach you." It turns out that Spencer was leaving messages on my home answering machine while I was dialing all those numbers from work. Talk about strangers passing in the night..... Once I stopped the nervous babble, we had a delightful conversation about some of his worst "puns." I mentioned that I saved some of his most "groan" inspiring jokes for friends I wanted not to impress. He laughed heartily and said it was the first time he had every heard of someone actually repeating his stories. He sounded comfortable and not rushed in any way. I could almost see his feet resting up on a desk. After many pleasantries, I forgot I was in work, and felt at ease. I even made suggestions and additions to his recipe. We finally got around to the reason for my call and Spencer was trying to explain "chopped" canned tomatoes and I wasn't sure if he meant kitchen ready or stewed (stewed contain bits of vegetables.) As we pondered these differences, every phone in my office rang at once and my boss appeared in the doorway, waving an important document. Calm, collected Spencer simply said, "Do you need to get the phone?" Jolted out of my conversational reverie, and flung into immediate panic, I said, "hold on please," and watched, my brain in slow motion, as my hand took on a life of it's own, and hung up the phone in Spencer Christian's ear. Not one finger went near a hold button. I had zipped into the twilight zone, and all I could do was put my head on the desk and mutter, "I can't believe I hung up on Spencer Christian." Needless to say, the tomato adjustment issue never got resolved, it got way too busy at work and I was too embarrassed to call him back during that day anyway. So, I called Amanda in the dead of night, when I knew everyone would be gone home, and left an apologetic message on her voice mail. Below, you see Chef Nostalgia's version of "Spencer Christian's Lentil Pasta Sauce." Spencer Christian may have a conniption fit over this total disregard for his original recipe, but perhaps the fact that it still contains lentils may be my saving grace.

Use whatever kind of tomatoes you like, I'm not calling Spencer again."

 

Chef Nostalgia's Version of Spencer Christian's Lentil Pasta Sauce

 

1 small onion - chopped

1 garlic clove chopped- or 1 tsp. bottled

1 TBS. olive oil

1 2 cups chopped fresh tomatoes (or 28 oz .can kitchen ready tomatoes)

1 cup water ( more to taste)

2 8 oz cans tomato sauce (not paste)

1 fresh carrot - peeled - cut in quarters

1/2 tsp. oregano

1 tsp. dried basil ( 2 TBS. chopped fresh) or more to taste

1/4 tsp. thyme

1/4 tsp. lemon pepper - optional

2 dashes tobasco or hot sauce (optional)

1/2 cup dried lentils - washed & drained

 

In a large frying pan or pot, (I use a large WOK) sauté onion and garlic in olive oil 'till transparent. (do not brown) Add Tomatoes, tomato sauce, water, carrots and all seasonings. Simmer, covered, for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in lentils, and simmer covered for another 15 minutes, and simmer again, uncovered last 15 minutes until lentils are done to your liking. Serve over hot linguini or Farfalle (bows) Delicious with tossed salad and chilled wine.

Recipe Hint: Some people remove and discard the carrots from the sauce, but I prefer to leave them. It is best served on the day of preparation. The lentils become too thick when left in the refrigerator for any length of time. It freezes well when frozen soon after cooling


Runes and Kiss Cookies© published by Medford Transcript

I was asked to perform as Memé, Rune Reader, at a "sweet sixteen" birthday party. Setting up a room with low-lights, candles, incense and new-age music is always fun. I was looking forward to the questions the teenage girls would silently ask my hand-painted Rune stones. The house was filled with mystery and wonderful aromas of smoky strawberry, apple cider and surprise filled peanut butter cookies.

Hoping to add mystical ambiance to the evening, the mother of the birthday girl had borrowed a crystal ball from a fortune teller friend and set it on the table that I had pre-arranged for the Rune Reading. When I moved the ball to place the satin bag filled with my engraved rune stones on the table, I knocked over a decorative glass jar filled with stones gathered from Arizona. I watched as it fell, as if in slow motion, to the floor and shattered. Every few minutes, I bumped into things that were close to my candle-lit table. "Something is wrong here," I murmured to myself. I felt a bit off-balance and out of flow with things. Suddenly I had a strong thought, "Remove the crystal ball to another room." When I picked up the crystal ball, it felt warm in my hands and immediately, I felt a sense of relief, as if I'd been holding my breath for a long time.

Later, I found out that the container that shattered was given to the girl's mom by the crystal bowl owner. It was then that I thought that perhaps the Runes were asking to be left alone to do their work. "The crystal ball can come another day," a smiling voice seemed to say through the mist of strawberry incense. Whatever the reason, I felt better once the ball was gone. The remainder of the evening was filled with magic, teenage giggles and surprising answers to silent questions

 

The Story of the Runes From the World Book Encyclopedia,2000 edition:

 

A Rune (pronounced roon) is any one of the characters of the earliest written alphabet used by the Germanic people of Europe. The oldest runic writings date back to A.D. 200's. Most runic inscriptions known today were written before the 1000's. Many runes were carved in wood, but most surviving runes were written in stone. The word rune comes from a Gothic word meaning secret. Members of early Germanic tribes associated runes with secrecy or mystery because few people understood the inscriptions. Runic characters were probably first used by pagan priests in making charms and magic spells.

Archaeologists have discovered more than 4,000 runic inscriptions. Over 3,000 of these writings were found in Sweden. Many dated from the period of the Vikings. Other runic writings were discovered in Denmark, England, Germany and Norway.

As Memé, I read the Rune Interpretations from The Book Of Runes, written by Ralph Blum in 1932. Unlike fortune telling, in this book he says, "Consulting the Runes enables you to bypass the strictures of reason, the fetters of conditioning and the momentum of habit. For a brief span of interacting with the Runes you are declaring a free zone in which your life is malleable, vulnerable and open to change." I like that.

For example the Rune with no symbol at all is called "The Unknowable," or the Rune of Destiny. Another Rune with a symbol that resembles the letter "B" is called "Growth" and the interpretation associates it with fertility, rebirth or new life.

There are 25 Rune symbols and interpretations in Blum's book and it should be available at your local library.

While performing this Rune Reading, I sampled some the best and easiest to prepare peanut butter cookies I've ever had. They were made by Theresa Pero, the grandmother of Emily Pero, the sixteen year old party host. Like my hand-painted Runes, the cookies were magic and filled with surprises.

Peanut Butter Surprise Cookies

 1 14 oz. can condensed milk

3/4 cup smooth peanut butter or Roasted soybean butter

2 cups Bisquick baking mix - regular or low-fat

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 16 oz. pkg Hershey milk chocolate kisses

or chocolate kisses with almonds

granulated white sugar for coating

Preheat oven 375 (this is important)

 

In a large bowl, beat condensed milk and peanut butter 'till smooth. Add Bisquick and vanilla. Mix well and refrigerate mixture for about an hour. Shape mix evenly into 1" balls and roll in granulated sugar. Place 2" apart on baking sheet. Bake 8 minutes. Do not overbake. Cookies will crack and brown on bottom only. Remove from oven and immediately press one Hershey's kiss on top of each cookie. (Press lightly to set chocolate kiss in center of cookie) Makes 30-40 cookies.

Recipe hint: For even more fun and flavor, try substituting the kisses with any of the candies listed below: (Or do half and half.) (My favorite is Rolo chewy caramel in milk chocolate) Reese's Crunchie cookie cups,Peanut butter cup minatures, Dove Promises or Pearson's nips

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

 

Stories and Poems

Stories

Brother Blue -Golden Comet

The Turkey Story

Mystic View

Buddha on the Bus

Teenage Buddha

Baby Buddha

Popsicle Buddha

Crystal Bowl Buddha

Receptionist Buddha

Lucky Penny Buddha

Cat Buddha

The Girls Who Work

The Gift

Poems

Forever

Finally Let Out

The High Muckey Muck

Murder in My Yard

Green Fingernails

Frying Pan Love

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