Comfort Foods and Indulgences

As I have been known to confess on these very pages, when it comes to sweets, I am an unabashed purveyor of the pedestrian. Most people who have been to a Ralph’s Supermarket have probably noticed the bakery section with its apple turnovers, banana muffins, red-velvet cupcakes, entire cakes and even half cakes—presumably to add variety for the discriminating tastes waiting at home. Whatever glutenous confection you have a hankering for you can pretty much find in this section of the store, right in front of you, the minute you walk in. Since I am stuck with the kind of willpower that needs constant reviving and have been unable to resist many of these offerings in the past, I try to enter the store at the other end, where the fruit is colorfully, bountifully ensconced. But to no avail.

Unfortunately, one item in that dreaded bakery always summons me: chocolate donuts. Clamshells with a twelve-count sit stacked on the bakery tables, neat rows of the taunting chocolate visible through the plastic. Only $4.99 for the Ralph’s Club member. How can one resist? Don’t they contain all the food groups, milk, eggs, flour, and cocoa (yes, I count cocoa as a food group)?

One of these perfectly round donuts and a glass of milk means instant transport to childhood. The chocolate coating cracks a bit as your teeth sink into it, and the edges of the fresh golden cake beneath break away first. Then you’re left with a thick knot of cake and chocolate at the center, one perfect bite.

Wow, what an awesome idea this is for breakfast, or breakfast for dinner...or a snack. It's like the whole kit and kaboodle in one bite. Do you know how hard it is to have the bacon, eggs and toast done at the same time? Well of course you do, you've tried. It's a challenge.

So I guess this post has now saved you from morning despair and frustration. Lucky you. Oh let's not forget how good these taste....the buttery toast, the salty bacon, the runny egg (or not depending on how long you cook it).

It's just fantastic and a perfect solution to making breakfast for a lot of mouths. Once they are in the oven, get the coffee goin' and you'll have to time to take the curlers out of your hair before you take the kids to school. They will be very happy for that.

And they easily pop right out of the tin. So perfect.

Have you ever had bananas in your kitchen that were so black and shriveled, you almost threw them out? It's happened to me so many times. Day after day I I tell myself I will make a batch of banana muffins. And finally, the day arrives when I actually pick up the deflated bunch of almost unrecognizable fruit and head for the door, with intentions of taking them out to the woods for animals to enjoy. But, I just can't do it. So, this week, I squeezed the mushy fruit from its shriveled, dark skin and stirred it into a rich mix of cream cheese, sugar and eggs to make cheesecake.

I must back up a little bit at this point. Years ago, in 2005 actually, I copied a recipe for Hot Buttered Rum Cheesecakes with Rum-Caramel Sauce from that year's December issue of Bon Appetit magazine. I ordered a bunch of tiny (4 1/2-inch) springform pans, ready to make the cheesecakes and give them as gifts. It never happened that year, or any year since that time. But, I still have the recipe. I vaguely remembered the recipe instructions for reducing some dark rum to stir into the cake batter. With the experience of tasting warm, rum-spiked bananas foster still clear in my mind – I made several flaming pans full of the dessert for a recent fundraising event for the Headwaters Science Center in Bemidji – I wondered if I could match the flavors of that dessert in a cheesecake.

In the world of taquerias there are potato tacos (tacos de papa) and then there are potato tacos. And if you’ve never had one, it’s exactly what you think: tender chunks of potatoes are cooked with onions and spices and nestled inside a corn tortilla and topped with shredded lettuce and salsa.

Sometimes.

And sometimes they’re mashed and tucked inside a corn or flour tortilla and doused with Mexican crema and again, topped with lettuce, cabbage, salsa or pico de gallo.

And then there’s the Casa de Matt variety: a type that forsakes all pomp and circumstance and distills it down to the bare essentials. And it’s not very pretty.