Boone North Carolina Survival Sandwiches

Once upon a time, four friends decided to go to Boone, North Carolina to go skiing. Actually, probably twelve or so friends decided to go skiing, but the other eight don't come into this that much, as they didn't partake in the first batch of Boone, North Carolina Survival Sandwiches. Many of them have partaken in the glory of these sandwiches since that fateful weekend, but in the beginning, it was just V and P and Will and I. 

 P and I were talking about that trip yesterday and the first thing that struck us was that we had no frickin' idea how we thought any of us were going to pay for a ski weekend. Will had a job and P did (we think...things are a bit, um, HAZY about that period in time), but V and I sure didn't. I struggled to pay rent and ate a whoolllle lot of mac and cheese, but things like ski trips were totally out of the question. I can't imagine asking my parents to pay for it. It's possible that the new semester was about to start and we were all using our financial aid checks. So...to all the Americans out there: thank you for maybe possibly paying for our doomed ski trip to Boone, North Carolina. The sandwiches were GREAT. 

 The trip to Boone from Athens takes about four and a half hours. Some of our group rented equipment (Will and I didn't. I wasn't going to ski because the idea of my uncoordinated self sliding full speed down a mountain made me want to urp. I was going to skate and/or sip cocoa somewhere while looking out a window.) and we all packed warm clothes and P made the sandwiches. At the time, we didn't call them Boone, North Carolina Survival Sandwiches. She got the recipe from an aunt, I think, and we figured that we could munch on them on the way in case we got hungry to save on money. Because as a bunch of unemployed college kids spending a weekend at a ski resort, we were FRUGAL. We set off into the gray morning. The weather report (as I hazily remember it) was a little sketchy. Possible snow in Boone on top of a packed something or other. Eh. It was raining in Athens when we left, but winters in Athens, Georgia are typically the stuff of Emily Bronte novels, so we didn't blink. 

As the only person with a car that was mostly assured of making it into the mountains, P was driving. Bless her heart, she took this role a lot; taking care of us was kind of her deal. Not in a motherly way, but in a "holy crap, if I don't take charge of this situation, the rest of you fools are going to die" way. It is a miracle she stuck with us. The "us" in question being V and Will and I, who giggled a lot and pointed out the rain and who, within fifteen minutes of leaving Athens, were absolutely frickin' starving. We broke out the the sandwiches and I'm pretty sure that while it wasn't exactly manna, angels started singing over our car as we ate. 

The angels were probably hoarse by the end of the day, because what was supposed to be a four and a half hour trip took roughly nineteen years. It rained the whole time. The whole time. Rain. I remember (hazily) a couple of near-wrecks due to people more foolish than P not being able to handle the slickness of the road. 

 Now, this was in the dark days before iPhones and instant weather reports, so we just trusted that, you know, the mountains were, like, HIGHER than where we were driving so, surely it would be snowing in Boone. Surely. This belief lasted until the very last stage of our trip, when on a pitch black road that headed up the mountain, we encountered a washed out bridge. Because it was flooding. Because it had been pouring rain for about eight hours and all of the snow had washed off the mountain. Sigh. 

 Back we went in the downpour to Athens, where we ate the rest of the sandwiches in a haze of disappointment and boredom. BUT!! All of the boredom and disappointment aside, we were left with the Boone, North Carolina Survival Sandwiches. Which are the best thing in the entire world for tailgating, reunions, picnics, sports-related parties, and rainy road trips. They're great hot out of the oven and delicious cold for...hang on...mmm...mid-morning snacks. Blessed sandwich o' mine. P and I continued our chat yesterday with the realization that the recipe that we've been using for years really makes too much spread. We're always left with a tub of it after we've made the sandwiches, which is a terrible waste of precious golden yumminess. So I'm tweaking the recipe a bit, which means the measurements on the spread will look weird. Feel free to double the amounts in the spread, although you'll also have to double the amounts of bread, ham, and cheese that you buy, which will leave you with enough sandwiches to feed the Russian army. Just saying.

Boone North Carolina Survival Sandwiches 

Ingredients 4 oz. cream cheese, softened (half a block)

4 oz. yellow mustard

 4 oz. mayonnaise 

1 small yellow onion, diced finely 

4 packages brown and serve rolls (the kind in the metal tins) 

1 pound sliced deli ham 

2 packages sliced mozarella cheese 

Directions

1. Don't you hate it when recipes say "one small whatever?" What does that MEAN? In this case, it means an onion that's baseball-sized. And actually, because I'm halfing the spread part, it might mean an onion that's, say, golfball-sized. You're aiming for 1/2 cup diced onion. I use yellow onions because they have a mellow taste that's not overpowering, which means that most people who don't even like onions can forge ahead with this sandwich and enjoy it despite the onions. If you want to get crazy, go with a white or red one. I don't recommend it, but whatevs. We used to just chop the onion, but diced goes better with the squishiness of the bread. Dice that sucker up and throw it in a bowl.
2. Pile the cream cheese, mustard, and mayonnaise on top and mix everything up. I used to use a fork to do this, then I graduated to a hand mixer. Now I put it all in the KitchenAid, because I feel like the KitchenAid can do anything. In fact, I often dream of sticking my kids in there at bathtime with a squirt of soap. Mix it up until it's all smooth and there are no bits of cream cheese popping up.
3. Here's the hardest part of the whole recipe, with the exception of not eating an entire pan by yourself during naptime. It's really not that hard and after you've made a few batches, you'll do it like a pro. I'm gonna post pictures of this part, even though the light was bad and it embarrasses me to show these photos. Forgive me. Place the bag end to end with the metal pan. Remove the rolls from the pan in one piece. Lay the rolls on a cutting board and carefully cut them in half, longwise. You want a definite top and bottom. The rolls are soft and occasionally separate, but this really isn't that big of a deal, as you can see in the picture. Flip the top carefully so that the two halves are like an open book and then lay the top on the plastic bag. Put the bottom back in the pan.
4. Using a spatula or butter knife, swoosh the spread over the bottom portion of the rolls. Use as much as you would on a regular sandwich. Too much and you'll get mushy sandwiches AND lose the yumminess of the cheese and ham.
5. Lay slices of ham on the bottom portion of the rolls, on top of the spread. I don't use more than a triple layer of ham. I've used deli ham from the...um...deli before, but Hickory Farms now sells ham by the pound, so I use that. I prefer the delicate sweetness of brown-sugar or honey-baked ham in this.
6. Lay slices of cheese on top of the ham. One layer of this, and it requires some finagling. Back in the day, I used long slices of mozarella, which meant that I had to cut some of the slices in thirds, which was complicated. I can't find long slices now, so I use three slices per pan, a few of them cut into strips. You'll figure it out.
7. Swoosh spread onto the top half of the rolls. Carefully place the top portion on the cheese layer. I usually wipe off any spread that I've gotten on the rolls now. Because I'm a nerd.
8. Now you can do one of several things. You can put these back in their plastic bags and stick them in a cooler or your fridge until you're ready to eat them. You can eat them cold, which is fine. But for the best Boone North Carolina Survival Sandwich experience, you need to stick them in a 250 degree oven for ten or so minutes, until the cheese is melty and the tops are a bit toasted. Whichever way you go, before you serve them, cut around each roll with a sharp knife to separate them.

That's it. Except for the accolades you'll get when you serve these bits of mustardy love to your friemily. I'm assuming you could substitute turkey or chicken if you have a ham problem. Or go crazy and use swiss or provolone cheese instead. Last year, I did a variation with turkey, provolone, and apple butter that was a partial success. The bread is very soft and sucks up anything spread on it, so if I was going to do the turkey, prov, apple butter thing again, I'd probably add some cream cheese to it to thicken it up. Let me know if you use this and try something all nutty. Clearly, I'm going through a big cooking phase, coinciding with a sewing phase. It's all very Martha-goes-nuts-in-the-heat-of-summer. With a less fluffy dog. And a lot less style. I'm sure I'll blog about it at some point in time; my insane inner Martha. After I eat a sandwich.

Caramel Frosted Pumpkin Mini-Muffin Cupcake Thingies

First, thanks for all of the responses to yesterday's post.  Will and I sat Jeffrey down and explained to him that while we appreciated his curiosity, he simply wasn't old enough to understand the implications and emotions and issues related to the Holocaust and, specifically, life in concentration camps.  We let him know that he could study about World War Two and the issues around it, but until we were sure that he was ready to understand the horrors, he wouldn't be reading books about it.  His response was anger and sarcasm ("Oh, yeah?  Well, how about when I'm an honor's student and I go on a trip to Europe and we visit a concentration camp and I have no idea what happened there and I look stupid?"  Sigh. Count to ten.  "If I'm letting you go to Europe, I'm pretty sure you will be ready to read about concentration camps."  "Oh.")  and we had to be very kind and firm for a good thirty minutes.  As to the nonficion/fiction thing:  Jeffrey loves fiction, but his attention span and imagination being what they are, he needs for fiction to be read aloud to him for him to really grasp it.  I've read the Harry Potter books up to book five to him and Will's reading The Ranger's Apprentice series to him.  (I have to leave the room when he does; those books are not...er...written the way I like things to be written.)  He and I are reading the first Percy Jackson book, having watched the movie this summer and he was receptive to us reading the Egyptian myth series by the same author.  We're also reading Farmer Boy out loud as a family, which will be the last Little House book we read for a while, since the Ingall's girls are getting all grown up now.  Not sure what the family book will be after this.  (We read out loud a LOT in this family.)  Suggestions?

Moving on, I had planned to write a post about how I'm having a hard time with the current chapter of the book I'm working on right now.  But the hard time revolves around race and perspective and I'm not sure if I can articulate it well enough, so instead, I'm going to write about mini pumpkin muffin-cupcake thingies.  

Yay!  Mini pumpkin muffin-cupcake thingies instead of anything remotely thought-provoking!  

Anywho, I discovered this recipe on Pinterest and immediately loved it and called it George, even though the first couple of times I had issues with it.

The first issue was because I had read somewhere that some lady who makes awesome cookies only mixes her ingredients until they're barely combined.  This led to me having giant, weird streaks in my cookies that were where the butter and brown sugar had combines.  The streaks tasted delicious, but they made for ugly-ass cookies.  

The second issue came when I realized that because there was so much pumpkin in the recipe, the cookies wound up being flimsy.  Pumpkin gives things a velvety, smooth texture, but in a cookie, this sort of translated for me into limp floppy mushes of cookie, especially after they were frosted. Tasty, but not very efficient.

I decided to fix my issues by A:  mixing everything until its mixed and B:  slopping the dough into mini-muffin tins.  

And then little acorn-capped angels of Autumn sang from the corners of my kitchen while sprinkling me with orange glitter.

Here's the recipe, adapted from this one at Let's Dish Recipes.

 

Ingredients for Cookies:

1 cup softened butter

1/2 cup white sugar

1/2 cup packed brown sugar

1 cup canned pumpkin

1 egg

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 tablespoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon ginger

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 cups all purpose flour

Ingredients for frosting:

3 tablespoons butter

1/4 cup heavy cream

1 cup confectioners' sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla 

1/2 cup packed brown sugar

pinch of salt

Let's do this:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. In a large bowl (I used my stand mixer), cream together butter and sugars.  Cream them until they're EVENLY MIXED.  (Gah.  Still can't get over that advice.)
3. Add eggs and vanilla and mix well.
4. Stir in the pumpkin.  
5. Don't stick your finger in for a taste yet.  It's not as tasty without the spices.
6. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, salt, and spices.  
7. Add this sllloooowwwly to the pumpkin mixture and mix well.
8. Now go ahead and take a taste, just don't blame me if you get salmonella.  Yuuuum.
9. Spray a mini-muffin tin with cooking spray.  I suppose, alternately, you could use mini-muffin-cupcake baking papers, but I have no idea if they even make those.
10. Dollop a spoonful of batter/dough into each tin.  Aim for the magic "two-thirds full" rule of muffin/cupcake baking.
11. Bake for 10-12 minutes, or until the top of a muffin springs back when you press on it.  Or until a toothpick inserted one comes clean.  (Seriously, y'all have made muffins before, right?)  You should have enough for two twenty-four count mini-muffin tens.
12. While mini-muffin-cupcake thingies are cooling, combine butter, cream, and brown sugar in a medium saucepan and heat it up over medium heat.
13. Cook this delicious mixture, stirring occasionally, until it begins to boil.  (Do NOT let it boil for very long AT ALL.  Otherwise, you get pralines, which are good, but not what you're after right now.)
14. Once it boils, remove it from the heat and stir in the vanilla.
15. Allow this to cool for a few minutes, then stir in the confectioners' sugar.
16. Spread on cooled mini-muffin-cupcake thingies.

This is a dessert that is rich and smooth and delicious and spicy and awesome AND pretty.  Now here is where I should be showing you the pictures of the mini-muffin-cupcake thingies I baked weeks ago, but I have somehow lost them.  It is a sad, sad day.

But not without benefits, because check it out:  I can totes bake a batch tomorrow and take pictures of them.  And then eat them.  Wheeee!