a patchwork picnic: Porch Light & {Rosemary Pot Roast & Lion House Dinner Rolls}

This house is a love machine. The gentle, rhythmic swoosh of the dishwasher, the hum of the washer, the purr of the dryer, with it's occasional, "plunk," that says the pockets of an electrician weren't unloaded before tossing in, the mountain of laundry stained with grass and ketchup and watercolors, the tiny jeans filled with even tinier little boy treasures...rocks, a Dole banana sticker, stolen chocolate chips...the crayola graffiti'd walls, the recipes, grocery lists and "I love you" notes scrawled with crayon onto backs of receipts and scraps of construction paper...Former guest rooms/storage rooms that have filled up with baby cribs and Lincoln Logs and matchbox cars, shrieks of little boy laughter echo off the walls and down the hall...the toilet that, without fail, runs and runs if you don't jiggle the handle after each flush...the tears and fights and slammed doors...eventually followed by forgiveness...the sunrise I see each morning through my kitchen window that faces east...the sounds of three harmonicas being played simultaneously, terribly out of tune with each other, yet somehow perfectly in tune at the same time...our comfy, Sunday-afternoon-nap-worthy, hideously ugly, lop-sided couch, where countless wandering talks about life and love have taken place, hands cupped around mugs of steaming hot, strong coffee..where greasy, buttery hands brush others inside the popcorn bowl, snuggled up together under a giant blanket while watching movies, the squeaks in our floors, lines in our faces, each one telling a thousand stories, serenades of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star sung by those precious voices...This man who brings me lilies "just because," who flips pancakes and grills steaks like nobody's business, who loves me like he does on my very worst day, but makes me want to be so much more, who makes me laugh till I cry and cry till I laugh, whose dreams have gotten so tangled up with mine that they are one...our kitchen window through which any passersby might catch glimpses of a crazy lady making a mess of flour and eggs, sugar and whatever ripe fruit was lying around, begging to be turned into something delicious, belting out Patty Griffin at the top of her lungs...or they might see dancing, a momma and son, slowly spinning, dappled sunlight on the little boy's bare back as the shadows of the tree outside the window dance across the floor...three little noses pressed up against the storm door, watching for daddy's big work van to pull in the driveway..those same noses pressed up against the oven, watching the balls of dough turn magically into cookies, the sound of the back door opening and slamming shut as little boys track mud inside, bat and ball in tow, smelling of dirt, windblown, flushed, asking how long until dinner...cinnamon eyes that disappear when they smile like their daddy's do...

This. This is the good stuff. My whole world lives and breathes inside these walls. My heart jumped out of my chest, grew arms and legs, and learned how to laugh.

This is our home. Our messy, imperfect, beautiful home. I hope one of the things that stands out in the boys' memory of growing up is the way it smelled. I hope, whether they are 8, 18 or 38, that they'll walk in our door and smell bread rising and rosemary pot roast and close their eyes contentedly, and say, "This smells like home." I hope they'll always know that no matter what happens, what they do, what they don't do....there will always be a porch light left on, a door left unlocked, coffee waiting to be brewed and kitchen chairs ready to be plopped into as we have heart to hearts, sometimes figuring it out, sometimes finding consolation in just being together as we know we never quite will.

Rosemary Pot Roast

Let's talk pot roast. This recipe is Pioneer Woman's (with a few tweaks), so you KNOW it's going to be good. She has proven to be trustworthy when it comes to these matters. This pot roast is one of my very favorite things cook. I want to say it's my favorite, but I have commitment issues. (except for the guy who brings me lilies. He can stay. And the crayon graffiti artists. They can stay too.) Seriously though, the smell that comes off the seasoned meat as soon as it hits the sizzling hot skillet, the thrill of deglazing...cranking up the burner to high, splashing in the wine, whisking up those blackened bits of goodness, tucking the fresh herbs all over the dish, buried treasures that will fill your house will their aroma and impart their distinct, earthy flavor into the meat, the anticipation that builds as you wait while it cooks to tender, falling apart....the looks on your husband's and kids' faces as they take their first bite. Yeah, it is well worth the effort.

Here's what goes in...

liberally season with salt & pepper

cut onions in half, top to bottom

add to the hot oil

brown on each side until they look like this...

set aside

now get a little color started on the carrots

sear the meat

THAT is the good stuff

splash of red wine (1 to 2 cups, then beef broth)

my beloved rosemary...

well, it's about thyme...

Tuck those little beauties all around the dish, being sure to submerse some in the liquid. Then it is ready to stick in the oven!

So worth the wait...

Ingredients:

1 whole 4 to 5 lb. chuck roast (Choose a nicely marbled piece of meat for optimum flavor)(I made extra because my boys eat like grown men)

2 Tbs olive oil

2 whole onions (or 3 or 4)

6 whole carrots (up to 8 carrots)
1 to 2 cups red wine (I use Tawny Port wine) (optional; you can use beef broth instead)
2 to 3 cups beef stock
3 sprigs fresh thyme, or more to taste (I use 4)
3 sprigs fresh rosemary, or more to taste (I use 4 or 5)
1 package mushrooms (optional, I usually add these, but didn't this time around because I forgot to get them)

Instructions:
Heat a large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Then add 2 to 3 tablespoons olive oil (or a combination of butter/oil).

Cut two onions in half and cut 6 to 8 carrots into 2-inch slices (peel if you want, or leave unpeeled for a more "rustic" look and taste).

When the oil in the pot is very hot (but not yet smoking), add in the halved onions, browning them on each side for about a minute per side. Remove the onions to a plate.

Throw the carrots into the same very hot pan and toss them around a bit until slightly browned, about a minute or so.

If needed, add a bit more olive oil to the very hot pan. Place the meat in the pan and sear it on each side (PW says a minute per side, I just do 10 to 15 seconds per side), until it is nice and brown all over. Remove the roast to a plate.

While the burner is still on high, use either red wine or beef broth (I use Tawny Port wine), one to two cups, to deglaze the pan, scraping the bottom with a whisk to get all of that wonderful flavor up.

When the bottom of the pan is sufficiently deglazed, place the roast back into the pan and add enough beef stock to cover the meat halfway (I usually do a little more than halfway). Add in the onions and the carrots, as well as 4 or 5 sprigs of fresh rosemary and about 3 or 4 sprigs of fresh thyme.

Put the lid on, then roast in a 275 degree oven for 3 hours (for a 3 lb. roast), or 4 hours (for a 4 to 5-lb. roast.) If in doubt about the cooking time, just check it. If it is not literally falling-apart-tender, then stick it back in for a bit.

Recipe adapted from: Pioneer Woman

While your roast is in the oven....

Lion House Dinner Rolls

Making bread is a lot like playing a new instrument. It seems overwhelming at first. Unfamiliar. Technical. You feel clumsy. But if you stick with it, it will become completely natural. You'll know the song by heart. I am not exaggerating when I say that Mel (melskitchencafe.com) taught me to make bread. It all started a year and a half ago when I tried her Divine Breadsticks recipe, and the rest is history. She has fabulous photo tutorials and clear, precise instructions. The key is to not base your amount of flour off of what the recipe says (just use it as a loose guide to make sure you are on track), but to learn what perfectly floured dough feels like. Not enough flour and it will be super sticky/tacky and the dough may not rise correctly, and can go flat. Too much flour and your bread will be tough and dense.

Here's what goes in...

I subbed fresh milk for the water and omitted the milk powder

smooth and elastic, not too sticky or too tough...

before rising...

after the rise

roll into an 11X13 rectangle

cut a line down the middle

and 5 or 6 going the other way

roll up like little snails

after rising

ready to go in the oven

YUM!

ultimate comfort food

Lion House Dinner rolls

*makes about 2 dozen rolls

*I read in the comments section of her recipe that someone substituted milk that had been warmed to lukewarm in place of the water, and then omitted the dry milk powder. I have always tried it with the milk powder, but this time tried the substitution. Both ways turned out wonderful, so it is really your preference.

*You can substitute instant yeast for the active yeast if you prefer. If you use instant yeast, cut down the amount of yeast to 1 1/2 Tbs and then there is no need to proof it in the water (or milk). Instead, add it to the recipe with the water (or milk), and then proceed with the directions.

Ingredients:

2 Tbs active dry yeast

2 cups warm water

1/3 cup sugar

1/3 cup butter, softened

1 egg

2 1/2 tsp salt

2/3 cup nonfat dry milk powder

5-6 cups flour

Directions:

In a large bowl, combine the yeast and water. Let stand 5 minutes (no need to do this if using instant yeast--just add the yeast and water together with the other ingredients). Add sugar, butter, salt, dry milk, 2 cups flour and egg. Beat together until very smooth. Add remaining flour gradually (about 1/2 cup at a time) until a soft but not sticky dough is formed. Knead the dough for at least 5 minutes if using an electric mixer and for at least 10 minutes if mixing the dough by hand. When the dough is smooth, supple and elastic, place it in a lightly greased bowl covered with greased plastic wrap and let it rise until doubled.

Separate the dough into two portions. Roll each section out to an 11X14-inch rectangle. Brush the top with melted butter. Using a pizza cutter or sharp knife, cut the dough into two pieces, the long way. Then slice the dough into five or six strips across so you end up with 10 to 12 small rectangles. Roll each small rectangle up like a snail and place on a silpat-lined or lightly greased baking sheet with the roll resting on it's open edge. Repeat with the second portion of the dough.

Cover the rolls with lightly greased plastic wrap and let them rise until doubled. Bake at 375 degrees for 12-14 minutes until they are nicely browned.

*Freezable: You can freeze the baked rolls in freezer-safe ziplock bags. Microwave for a couple minutes or just set out for an hour or two to thaw before serving.

Recipe adapted from: Mel's Kitchen Cafe