Food Without Morals

April 5, 2010

Jan Hagel

Filed under: Dessert,Food — by Katie @ 3:44 pm

And now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

A couple of weeks ago, I was on spring break (SPRING BREAK WOOOOO). I went to my parents’ house for a few days, my house in Quincy flooded, then it dried up, then I went back home, then I went to visit my aunt up in New Hampshire, and that is where this was baked. I realized a few months ago that you can take the girl out of New England, but you will drag the New England out of this girl’s cold, frostbitten, wet fingers (I am trying to be realistic here).

But seriously, the weather that later half of the week was beautiful. So I locked myself indoors (the sun! it burns my pale, pasty skin!) and made Jan Hagel.

This recipe comes from some woman who graduated Guilford College in 1974. I know this, because I got the recipe out of a cookbook my aunt had, titled “‘Of Loving Kindness and Good Will: A Cookbook By and For Residents of Mary M. Hobbs Hall, Guilford College”. For the purpose of explanation, my mom, aunt, two of my grandmothers, and my brother all went to Guilford College. My grandma graduated in Marrying Your Roommate’s Brother, I think. I don’t really know what majors they had in the 40s, clearly.

Anyways, Jan Hagel is something that seems like it should not work, and while you are putting it together you hope that nobody comes home before it is out of the oven just in case it suck and you have to throw it out. And then, it looks okay! And the next morning, it was gone.

First, put on an apron, so that when Bobby comes by later to pick you up for the Sock Hop you don’t have flour all down your front. Then, dump one and a quarter cups of flour into a bowl.

Add half a cup of sugar to your flour.

Add half a teaspoon of cinnamon. And I added mace, because what the crap IS that? and also some nutmeg, because, well, look:

Nutmeg. The noblest and most hallucinogenic of all the spices.

Cut up half a cup (one stick of America Butter) of COLD butter into cubes, and add it to the bowl. You don’t necessarily have to cut it up into cubes, but it makes the next step easier.

Cut the butter into the flour until it looks like floury peas. I used a pastry cutter, but I have used my fingers, and I have heard that you can use two knives, but I don’t even know what that means, to be honest.

Separate an egg, save the white, and add the yolk to the bowl. Ignore the fact that this egg has a bloody spot. Don’t even think the word “fertilization,” and DEFINITELY don’t think “zygote.” And TOTALLY DO NOT call that phone number in the background. It’s probably my grandma’s doctor.

Cut the yolk into the flour. It won’t look wet, it’ll still look DRY. Resist the urge to add some liquid.

Press the mixture into a greased 9×13 inch pan. AAAAHHHH, THE SUN, MY ANGLO-SAXON ORIGINS CAN’T TAKE IT

Good, it went behind a cloud. Lightly beat the reserved egg white (just until the proteins are somewhat broken up and it’s a little foamy); brush it on the pastry. Use all of the white, the pastry should be totally covered with white.

Sprinkle with a quarter cup of sugar. If desired, also sprinkle on 1/4 cup of sliced unblanched almonds. I didn’t have any, so I went without. Pop into a 350 degree oven for 18-20 minutes.

Seriously, folks, GONE the next morning. I normally bring back about half of the baked goods I make home with me when I leave my aunt’s house, and there were three left in the tray. I stole one away with me when I left the house.

Jan Hagel
Kathy Buckland Heer, Guilford College class of ’74
1 1/4 cups flour
3/4 cups sugar, divided
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 c. cold sweet butter or margarine
1 egg, separated
1/2 c sliced unblanched almonds (optional)

In bowl combine flour, 1/2 cup sugar, and cinnamon. Cut butter into small pieces. Work mixture with fingertips or pastry cutter until small crumbs form.
Add egg yolk and work in until well blended; press dough evenly into well-greased 13x9x2 inch baking pan.
Brush with slightly beaten egg white; sprinkle with remaining 1/4 cup sugar and the almonds, pressing them slightly into the dough.
Bake in preheated 350 oven for 18-20 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool and cut into bars.

March 24, 2010

An apology + An unapologetic recipe

Filed under: Dessert,everyone has problems,Food — by Katie @ 11:34 am

Now THAT’S what I call an absence! Don’t let it be said that I half-ass things around here!

But seriously, sorry about that. See, I had good excuses, and when I ran out of good excuses, I just had shame. I won’t let it happen again, promise.

Now, let me tell you about this mystery dessert. See, I went home for a few days last week for spring break (SPRING BREAK, WOOOO), only to have it rain, which meant that I wore my pyjamas the entire time I was home (to be honest, I rarely change out of my pyjamas when I am home, so the rain was to my advantage).

This led to me surfing through my mother’s recipe box, which is unlike most Mothers’ Recipe Boxes in that my MRB consists mostly of recipes cut out from the paper, or handed down from some relative who cooked (some DISTANT relative, knowing my close ones as I do), or, very rarely, written on an actual recipe card.

This was written down as “Lazy Baklava  – Albanian Gjalpanik”. Since I have no ethnicity, I was so stoked to get to pretend to be Albanian, until I searched the internets, and learned this dessert does not exist.

I also like things that don’t exist. LET’S MAKE IT

Start with one pound of walnuts almonds. The recipe said to use walnuts, but I don’t like walnuts as much as I like almonds.

Grind those nuts! Grind them finer than I did! You want them chunky, far from nut paste or nut flour, but fairly broken down. You should grind them finer than I did; I had to stop early because I was afraid of waking my brother. It was eleven in the morning and he hadn’t gone to bed until four.

Add your nuts to a bowl, along with four cups of flour and one tablespoon of baking powder. This dough is so short that the baking powder does not make as terrifyingly huge of a difference as it might seem it would. Also, use a bigger bowl than I did. Because holy Flour Mountain.

Now, melt one pound of butter. Don’t even give me that look. Also, check out that tiny yellow flowerpot! When my mom is using her multiple pill boxes, we use that instead to weigh down our “DISHES ARE CLEAN” paper chunk.

Add the butter to the dry goods. It might be kind of hard to stir at first, but it comes together pretty easily. Note that I switched to a larger bowl, for ease in stirring.

Add the mixture to a 13x9x2 inch baking dish. This is slightly smaller than that (maybe one inch smaller, not that much), but it all fit. Flatten out the top with a spatula or a spoon. Try not to notice that there is butter pooling on top.

Bake at 350° Fahrenheit for about forty minutes. It is done when it is firm and golden brown on top.

Now, this is important. Make sure that you let this cool completely. Then cut it into squares, or triangles, or half, whatever you’d like. It is important to cut it now, because we are about to add some syrup.

Bring half a cup of honey, one and a half cups of water, and two and a quarter cups of sugar to a boil. Add in the shaved zest of half of a lemon, and let boil for twenty minutes.

While the syrup is boiling lava hot, and the gjalpanik is cooled completely, pour the syrup all over the top. You may not end up using all the syrup, I had about half a cup left at the end. What is important is to cover the entire top of the gjalpanik with the syrup while you pour, because the edges can get dry otherwise.

Let this sit for several hours. You need to allow all the syrup to soak into the gjalpanik.

This was amazing. I am not going to lie to you- it is not a baked good that can be eaten with one’s hands (however, it is awesome in a bowl with a spoon, in front of Gossip Girl, or whatever classy television show you watch). Another truth: the syrup will pool on the bottom when you remove slices. If you think this is a bad thing, then we can’t be friends.

Speaking as someone who has made baklava from scratch, only to feel murderous after three hours had gone by, I am a fan.

Lazy Baklava

For Baklava:
1 pound walnuts (almonds also work)
1 pound butter
4 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder

For Syrup:
1 1/2 cups water
2 1/4 cups sugar
1/2 cup honey
zest of one lemon

Grind the nuts well. Add to a bowl with the flour and the baking powder. Melt the pound of butter and add it to the dry goods; mix to combine. Pour into an ungreased 9x13x2 inch baking dish, and bake at 350 for about forty minutes, or until the top is golden brown. Allow to cool completely before adding syrup. Cut into whatever shape you like.

In a medium saucepan, add all the syrup ingredients and bring to a boil. Boil for twenty minutes. Fish out the spent lemon peel and pour the boiling syrup all over the baklava, making sure to coat every surface with it (you may not use all the syrup). Let sit out for several hours, overnight is even better.

For Baklava:
One pound walnuts (almonds also work)
One pound butter
Four cups flour
One tablespoon baking powder

For Syrup:

February 21, 2010

Brownie Bites

Filed under: Brownies,Food — by Katie @ 3:53 pm

Since I have been VERY GOOD, and posted two, count ’em, TWO savory recipes in a row, I deserve this one.

IT’S MUFFIN TIME AGAIN.

Okay, some people may bring up that these are brownies, and those people would be right (also: jerks). But I thought these would be adorable if only I baked them in a miniature muffin tin, and then I could show them off to all my friends, and they would realize how unappreciated I’ve been all along, and the popular kids would finally ask me to play foursquare with them at recess.

Then I laughed and laughed. That scenario is ridiculous: I don’t have any friends!

Start with one cup of chocolate chips- semisweet would be best, but I had milk on hand, so I used them. I love this measuring cup; I was at my Aunt’s when I made these, and she has all of the awesome bakeware that my Mom took to the dropoff/pickup at the dump years ago. Also, does it bother anyone that I cook in four different kitchens? Because it kind of bothers me.

Add half a stick of butter (that’s four tablespoons, and two ounces, don’tchya know?) to the chocolate. In a separate bowl. Don’t try to fit the butter in the measuring cup, it will only end in tears. YOUR TEARS

Melt yo chocolate and butter in the microwave (or on a double boiler if you’re industrious/have a dishwashing fetish) until it is smooth.

Add half a cup of sugar to the chocobutter mix. I used the same measuring cup (I know, it’s probably highly inaccurate, whatevs) because I was feeling kitschy. I would have made an excellent Stereotypical Fifties Mom, except my nose started to run and I wiped it all over my sleeve. Bet you wanted to know that!

DO NOT PANIC. You will be all, “What the eff is this crap??” but keep your pants on. Just keep stirring, getting all the sugar as mixed up as you possibly can. It’ll be thick, it’ll be hard, it’ll be double entendre, but it’ll come together all right in the end.

Add one egg. From a chicken. From the box or the chicken butt, I don’t care. PS: Lovin’ the IKEA counters, Auntie!

Now isn’t that nice? I told you it would all work out. But don’t trust me, because I’m totally going to screw you when we get to the flour! SUCKS

Add some hoity-toity vanilla extract. A teaspoon of it. ALSO GOOD: skipping the extract and adding a teaspoon of cinnamon. Oh my GOD, or BOTH. I have the best ideas (also the worst).

Oh, there was a teaspoon of baking soda in there, too. You know, FYI.

Look, you only have to add one cup of flour. And it’s going to be difficult, moreso than adding the sugar was. But it’s only one cup, you can do it! If you’re using a mixer or a spoon (read: don’t have an irrational love of whisks), this will be a billion times easier.

This is the final result. Not so much “batter” as “dough.” Oh man, I bet these would make bangin’ cookies with some more flour in them. But enough of my crackpottery! We got brownies to make!

Oil your pan really well if you’re making brownies this way. They poof up, and if the pan is not really, really, extremely well oiled, then when you try to remove them the brownie tops will come off (scandalous!) while the bottoms stay behind.

Alternatively, you can bake these in an 8×8 pan; it takes about twenty minutes.

When these came out, I was so optimistic. I even swirled on some melted chocolate and put an M&M in the center, because I didn’t know…

…that these would be approximately a bitch and a half to two bitches to remove. Lesson learned: be more liberal with the fat on the pans. Whatever, though, because the broken ones were still good. So good that I accidentally ate too many bottoms and some tops were left alone. Short, stout, requiring someone to lean on- I could empathize (unfortunately).

The pretty ones I drizzled with white chocolate and plated up. But I didn’t eat them! No, they had to wait so that they could be auctioned off at a church fundraiser later on. I don’t know how much they sold for because I had gotten conned into cutting the cake. Church fundraisers, man. You volunteer to help set up, and next thing you know you’re cutting cake for people who don’t want end pieces, or pieces with too much frosting, or chocolate.

Brownies
pretty sure this is a Good Housekeeping recipe
1 cup flour
1 cup chocolate chips
1/4 cup butter
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Melt together the chocolate chips and the butter. Stir until smooth; add the sugar. When combined, add in an egg, stir until combined. Add the vanilla and the baking soda, then add the flour. Spread in an 8×8 inch greased pan. Bake ~20 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean.

Alternatively, these can be baked in minimuffin tins, just decrease the time to about 10-15 minutes.

February 18, 2010

Roasted Carrots: Or, a Recipe Cop-Out

Filed under: Vegetables — by Katie @ 3:27 pm

I love to go to church. Wait, come back! I am not proselytizing, promise! In fact, if I must admit it, what I like most about church are not the sermons (sorry, Reverends I Have Known and Loved) but the community factor. I like to go to church events, I like listening to the Joys and Concerns, the ritual of handing my money in to the altar plate, of pretending to like coffee at social hour.

And so, when I received an email last week on the church’s listserv letting me know that a member of the congregation was having breast cancer surgery, and would people please sign up to bring her meals? I said, “Um, yes!” Meal Delivery is something my old church never did, and it is a practice that I wish every religious institution and/or social group participated in. Essentially, my church mysteriously finds out that a member of the congregation is ill/recovering, and arranges for meals to be delivered to them. This is awesome if you are like most people and want to not leave the house to grocery shop during periods of recovery.

I made baked chicken meatballs, with roasted red pepper couscous and roasted carrots on the side. Unfortunately, I am an idiot, and only have pictures of the carrots. This is dumb, because roasting carrots is as easy as:


Cutting up some carrots.


Putting them on a pan, adding enough salt, pepper, and olive oil to coat, and then sticking them in a 400° oven for 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally.


Trying hard not to eat all of them while you package them up.

Oh, and by the way, these are fool proof. I have roasted carrots in a 300° oven alongside a pork loin, I have gone the non-roasting method and pan-cooked them in a skillet (it takes about 20 minutes if you go that route), I have fancied it up and added brown sugar and maple syrup on top during the last ten minutes of cooking.

I would feel silly even posting this if they weren’t so damn good. Don’t think of it as me copping out on posting a “recipe.” Think of it as me spreading the word of truth! Justice! And the beta-carotene way!


Also, fact: Vitamin A is one of the four fat-soluble vitamins, and so eating carrots roasted with olive oil will totally give you heat vision. Just like Timmy Turner.

February 15, 2010

Valentine’s Day Wrap-Up

Filed under: Dinner,everyone has problems,Food,I am going to die alone,Pasta — by Katie @ 9:24 am

So how was your V-day? Did a married woman proposition you? Did you go to a performance of The Vagina Monologues? Did you have sloppy makeouts with that dude next to you at the bar? Do tell!

Me? I made pasta and got drunk with a friend. And when I say “with a friend,” what I mean is that I got drunk and apologized for three hours straight (I am an apologetic drunk; we are an annoying breed) to said friend.

But, pasta! No one wants to hear my drunk stories. Oh, except this one! This one time I got drunk and tripped over three chairs entering a room, and then stood up and told everyone, “I’m okay! This happens all the time!” I don’t remember this, but I was told it happened so it’s probably true.

NOW PASTA. This is a bastardization of this baked tomato sauce except I made it on the stovetop and not in the oven, because the oven had no knob telling you the temperature and when I was toasting breadcrumbs in it I set off the fire alarm.

First, chop up some garlic and cook it lightly in a pan, just until it’s fragrant. Or, be like me and forget the head of garlic you just bought, and end up with a tasty, but not garlicky, sauce. It’ll still be good without garlic, people will just want to make out with you more.


THEN chop up a bunch of grape tomatoes and add them to the pot. I forgot to start off with that whole “garlic sauteéing” business, which is why you don’t see that here. I used a pint of grape tomatoes for two people; I would go with more tomatoes next time.


While you’re doing that, toast some bread crumbs! This is about half a cup of bread crumbs, from a roll that I tore into small pieces and toasted at some temperature (no, really, the oven had no temp gauge) until they were brown. Then I crumbled them into bread crumbs.


Also, set a pot o’ water a-boiling.


Cook your tomatoes over medium-high heat until they start to release juice, like this. Squish them to make them release some more juice. Really abuse these things, they’ll be providing sauciness later.


And add the pasta! Reserve some pasta water to add in here in case things get too dry; I didn’t, and the pasta was a little dry as a result. You want to stir until everything is incorporated. I think this would be tasty with smaller pasta, like farfalle or fusilli (ME + FUSILLI = TRU LUV), but I had angel hair so I used it.


Add in your bread crumbs, stir to combine.


Plate up and serve! Then, because you just made dinner and have proven you are a sane, functioning adult, get your booze on.


Man, chihuahuas really can’t handle their wine.

February 13, 2010

Peanut Butter Apple Muffins

Filed under: Breads,everyone has problems,Food — by Katie @ 2:43 am

The muffinocolypse is over with this post, promise promise. I COULD have sold out to COMMERCIALIZZZZM and done a Valentine’s day post, but considering that my V-Day plans look like this:
1) Go to church in the morning
2) Go to the “New to Unitarian Universalism” class after church
3) Drink myself into an oblivion (hey, it’ll be the afternoon so that’s okay)

I am not exactly in the Valentine’s day spirit. So, anyways. Muffins!

I based it off of the banana muffin recipe from the previous post. And, seriously? Can we talk for just a minute about my atrocious handwriting? Because I don’t know where that came from. Honest, look at my mom’s handwriting:

Man, the 1950s. Nothing teaches kids good penmanship better than Communist witch hunts and widespread discrimination against minorities.

But enough. Here’s what you need for dese MUFFINS. Except for butter and honey. And peanuts. Please note that my mother buys prune yogurt. This is the house I grew up in, folks.

Measure a 1/4 cup of peanut butter, put it in a bowl.

Add a 1/4 cup of yogurt to the bowl. It does not have to be prune, although that does not affect the taste at all (no, really, PRUNE YOGURT? It’s about a month later and my mind, it is still blown).

And you’re also going to want to put in 1/2 cup of applesauce and one egg. From a chicken. No people eggs, please.

Mix it up with a whisk (or whatever, I just am in love with whisks) and add in 3/4 of a cup of brown sugar.

Spices: Probably why I’m still alive today. 1 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg, 1/2 teaspoon allspice. I just eyeball it though, but I also have mental illness (true story! I’ll tell you some time).

Once you’ve whisked that all together, add in your flour. Stir JUST until combined, or everyone will hate your tunneled, glutenous muffins, as well as YOU, by association.

Fold in your diced apple. It should be a cup; this cup is half full. But I’m still a pessimist.

Divide evenly amongst 12 muffin greased or lined muffin cups. Or, um, ten? I only got ten, but there’s no way that twelve wouldn’t work; that just would involve a mind capable of equal portioning, which I don’t have.

Bake at 350° F for twenty minutes, or until a toothpick stuck in the center comes out clean.

Oh, muffin. At least you’ll be my valentine.

Peanut Butter Apple Muffins
1 cup diced apple
1/4 cup peanut butter
1/4 cup yogurt
1/2 cup applesauce
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon allspice

Preheat oven to 350 F.
Whisk together all of the wet ingredients (this includes the sugar) except for the apple. Add in the spices and the baking soda, and then stir in the flour until just combined. Fold in the apple. Divide amongst twelve greased or lined muffin cups, and bake for twenty to twenty-five minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean. Allow to cool enough to handle, and then remove from the tin to avoid soggy bottoms.

February 4, 2010

Banana Gingerbread Muffins

Filed under: Breads,everyone has problems,Food — by Katie @ 4:42 pm

HEY! WHO LEFT A BAG OF POOP ON MY CLEAN COUNTERS?

Sorry, but we’ve been doing digestion in my Nutrition class, and my retiring-this-year professor decided we needed to spend ten minutes on why one says “elimination” and “waste products” and not “crappity crap crappington.”

I mentioned in my first post that I had been making too many dang muffins. I have a Muffin Problem. A tasty, tasty problem.

My dad proclaimed these muffins as “They’re good, sweetie!” which he says about everything I make, but he pleaded with me to take half of the batch home with me, since my mom is allergic to bananas (I know, CRAZY) and he didn’t want to finish the entire batch by himself. He then bought a giant tub of cookies at Stop and Shop, so take whatever he says with a grain of salt (God love that man and his affinity with fatty, highly processed foods).

I adapted this recipe from a banana muffin recipe I found on epicurious.com. I could search for it, but my bedtime is in fifteen minutes! How do you expect me to get my required nine hours of sleep? I am a growing girl, despite what my height and weight chart says!

Banana Gingerbread Muffins
Makes one dozen

1 1/2 cups flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1 1/4 cups mashed banana (see note)
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup butter
1/4 cup milk
1 egg
3 tablespoons molasses

Note: I roasted my bananas in the skin at 350° F until the skin was black, but if you wanted to forgo this step I’m sure it wouldn’t be a disaster.

Preheat oven to 350° F. Lube up a muffin tin, or use liners, if you’re one of those people.

Stir together the butter and the sugars until combined. Add in the egg, the milk, and the banana, stirring until combined. Add the molasses, stir one more time. Add the salt, the baking soda, and the spices; stir. Add in the flour and stir until just moistened. Divide amongst twelve greased muffin cups. Bake at 350° F for about 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean. Remove from the muffin tin as soon as they are cool enough to handle.

These will keep for at least a week, but if you want to enjoy one now with the morning paper, I won’t be the one to stop you.

January 22, 2010

this bread is CORNY

Filed under: Breads,Food — by Katie @ 5:16 pm

I love corn. I think it is because I grew up in New England, and you only get good corn for such a brief period of time. Like, in July, when the snow finally melts.

I kid, I kid. SO FAR AS YOU KNOW

Anyways, because I am from New England, I am incapable of making authentic corn bread. I don’t even own a decent-sized cast-iron skillet! I mean, we have one, but it is four inches in diameter. I don’t know what it’s for.

This bread was pretty good to my Yankee taste buds, and it quelled any and all urges I may have had to dump tea into Boston Harbor, or throw rocks at British soldiers and spark a massacre (and thus ends my New England historical knowledge). I adapted it from Kitchen Scraps’ basic muffin formula. Oh, yeah. I made cornbread out of muffin batter. This is why my Virginian relatives don’t invite us to visit anymore.

Mix together the carrot, butter, milk, egg, honey, and salt. It looks kind of gross, I’m sorry about that. Also I was using my mom’s point-and-shoot (as opposed to my point-and-shoot) at night, so dese pictures is terrible.

Helloooo, dry team! Here we have corn meal, baking powder, baking soda, and, um, nutmeg. Look, I have a problem- okay, I have a lot of problems, but this one particular problem is that I add nutmeg to a lot of places it maybe should not go. I did not add it to the ingredient list because I wanted to make a good impression, but if you want to bring nutmeg to the party (and nutmeg sure would like to come!) then I’d add anywhere between 1/8 of a teaspoon to a 1/4 teaspoon. Oh, pssst. I added the flour after this, but that really made this look like someone had been ill, so I omitted that picture. You’re welcome.

Oh boy, kids, will you look at the clock? It’s cheese time! Add in one cup, as if your life depended on it.

Pour it into a greased 8-inch pan because you don’t own a nine-inch pan, and bake for 25-30 minutes at 350° F. Obviously, you could divide this evenly into twelve muffin tins and make muffins instead, but I had already made two batches of muffins that day and I was afraid if I made any more my parents would put me into therapy. Again.

Full disclosure: I baked these for 25 minutes and they were a little soft, if you like your foods more robust (I like mine wimpy, it makes me feel better about myself in comparison), for sure bake this longer.

Serve on only your FINEST Thomas the Tank Engine plastic plates, with a side of nothing. Because you’ve already had two bowls of Cheez-its and you’re kind of full.

Carrot Corn Muffin Bread
Adapted from Kitchen Scraps
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup corn meal
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup shredded cheese
1 cup milk
1/4 cup melted butter
1 egg
1 1/2 cups shredded carrot (I used the food processor)
1/2 t salt
2 tablespoons honey

Mix together the milk, butter, egg, carrot, salt, and honey. Add the dry ingredients (you could sift these if you’re feeling ambitious) to the wet, and mix until combined. Add the cheese, mix until combined. Pour into an 8×8 inch greased pan, and bake at 350º Fahrenheit for 25-30 minutes. Let cool enough to handle the pan, then slice into 16 pieces and either serve warm or cool on a cooling rack. Because this is basically muffin batter you should probs not cool these in the pan, or you’ll get soggy bottoms. If you already have a soggy bottom, I don’t want to know.

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