I've served this to two different book groups, to positive reviews.
Sticky Toffee Pudding (slightly adapted from Bon Appetit)
12 oz. (about 2 c) pitted, chopped dates
1 c boiling water
1 ¾ c flour
2 t baking powder
½ t baking soda
½ t salt
½ c (1 stick) butter
1 ½ c packed brown sugar
2 eggs
1 t vanilla
Toffee sauce or buttermilk syrup (recipes below)
1. Place dates in medium bowl; pour boiling water over, stir, let cool.
2. Preheat oven to 350. Butter and flour 13x9 pan.
3. In another medium bowl, mix flour, baking powder, soda, and salt.
4. Using electric mixer, beat butter in large bowl until light and fluffy. Add brown sugar and beat until blended (mixture will be grainy). Beat in eggs 1 at a time, mixing well. Beat in vanilla. Stir in flour mixture alternately with date mixture, starting and ending with flour.
5. Transfer batter to prepared pan.
6. Bake until tester comes out clean, about 40 minutes. Spoon ½ c warm toffee sauce or buttermilk syrup over cake, spreading evenly. Bake until sauce is thick and bubbling, about 8 minutes. Cool cake in pan until warm. Serve with remaining toffee sauce. (Every time I've made this the center has sunk and the edges were brown.)
Toffee Sauce
2 ½ c cream
1 c sugar
½ c. butter
½ c. light corn syrup
Bring 1 ½ c. cream, sugar, butter, and corn syrup to boil in heavy large saucepan over medium-high heat, stirring until sugar dissolves and butter melts. Reduce heat to medium and boil gently until mixture is thick and deep amber, stirring often, about 35 minutes.
Remove sauce from heat. Whisk in remaining 1 c cream (mixture will bubble vigorously). Strain into medium microwavable bowl. Can be made ahead.
A half batch of toffee sauce is enough.
For book group, I substituted buttermilk syrup for the toffee sauce—it’s faster and less fatty. It’s also delicious with pancakes, etc.
Buttermilk syrup
1 1/2 cups white sugar
3/4 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup butter
2 tablespoons corn syrup
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
In a large saucepan (3-4 qt), stir together the sugar, buttermilk, butter, corn syrup, and baking soda. Bring to a boil, and cook for 7 minutes. Remove from the heat, and stir in the vanilla.
Note: the mixture grows big while it cooks.
Friday, May 27, 2011
all we need is love
Last night I watched Freakonomics (spoiler alert--and yes, I know I should have read the book first), in which Steven Levitt argues that while many factors contributed to a drop in crime in the 1990s, the biggest contributing factor was Roe v. Wade. Fewer unwanted pregnancies in the 1970s led to fewer crimes in the 1990s.
Another chapter of Freakonomics explores using incentives to raise students' grades. A group of professors and students at the University of Chicago bribe (provide incentives for) 9th graders to improve their grades: $50/month if they maintain a C average and good attendance, with a shot at $500 and a limo ride. The incentives help D students become C students, but don't work for failing students. Passing rates increase by about 6%, which is lower than anticipated. The people running the study conclude they need to reach younger students--their next target population is preschoolers. Levitt asks will they be training the students or the parents? The answer is, both.
Which brings me to the first chapter: parenting. Levitt and coauther Dubner say that fancy preschools and expensive extra-curriculars don't matter. By the time a mother gives birth, she's already pretty well determined that child's future. Dubner doesn't say it exactly, but I think what he implies, if you consider the later chapters, is that what matters most in kids' lives is whether their parents want them and love them.
Reminds me of an interview with David Brooks, heard on NPR. Discussing his new book, he said that when he looked into why kids drop out of high school, he found that you could pretty accurately predict whether a preschooler would drop out of high school based on that child's relationship with his or her mother (I may be oversimplifying). Rather than inciting worry among mothers (Is my relationship with my children strong enough? How can I improve it?), and not having read either of the books I cite, I would echo Dubner in saying that if you're thinking about these questions, you're probably doing fine.
Now, most of us are aiming much higher for our children than high school graduation. But I'm not very worried about your children or my children. If we put together the various examples and arguments above, Freakonomics suggests that preventing unwanted pregnancies not only reduces crime, but similarly increases graduation rates and probably improves a long list of social measures. And educating 8th graders about birth control isn't going to solve the problem--we have to start younger, much younger. We have to start before birth (does that make any sense?). Wherever we start will not be the beginning--we're far past the beginning--but we need to try to ensure that all children are loved and all parents are loving.
My second grader, M, asked his friend, J, his greatest wish. J said, that everyone could be friends. M told J that's like asking for world peace only better, because if everyone is friends, we'll have world peace and more. Sounds pretty good.
Another chapter of Freakonomics explores using incentives to raise students' grades. A group of professors and students at the University of Chicago bribe (provide incentives for) 9th graders to improve their grades: $50/month if they maintain a C average and good attendance, with a shot at $500 and a limo ride. The incentives help D students become C students, but don't work for failing students. Passing rates increase by about 6%, which is lower than anticipated. The people running the study conclude they need to reach younger students--their next target population is preschoolers. Levitt asks will they be training the students or the parents? The answer is, both.
Which brings me to the first chapter: parenting. Levitt and coauther Dubner say that fancy preschools and expensive extra-curriculars don't matter. By the time a mother gives birth, she's already pretty well determined that child's future. Dubner doesn't say it exactly, but I think what he implies, if you consider the later chapters, is that what matters most in kids' lives is whether their parents want them and love them.
Reminds me of an interview with David Brooks, heard on NPR. Discussing his new book, he said that when he looked into why kids drop out of high school, he found that you could pretty accurately predict whether a preschooler would drop out of high school based on that child's relationship with his or her mother (I may be oversimplifying). Rather than inciting worry among mothers (Is my relationship with my children strong enough? How can I improve it?), and not having read either of the books I cite, I would echo Dubner in saying that if you're thinking about these questions, you're probably doing fine.
Now, most of us are aiming much higher for our children than high school graduation. But I'm not very worried about your children or my children. If we put together the various examples and arguments above, Freakonomics suggests that preventing unwanted pregnancies not only reduces crime, but similarly increases graduation rates and probably improves a long list of social measures. And educating 8th graders about birth control isn't going to solve the problem--we have to start younger, much younger. We have to start before birth (does that make any sense?). Wherever we start will not be the beginning--we're far past the beginning--but we need to try to ensure that all children are loved and all parents are loving.
My second grader, M, asked his friend, J, his greatest wish. J said, that everyone could be friends. M told J that's like asking for world peace only better, because if everyone is friends, we'll have world peace and more. Sounds pretty good.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
entertain me
I wonder how many hours families collectively spend watching children's performances in the months of December and May. I'm afraid the shows bring out the Scrooge in me (I realize I kvetched in my last entry too--am I a really grumpy person?).
Crazy, I suppose, to complain, since I was an eager performer growing up and encourage my kids to do more extra-curricular activities than they choose to do. Taken individually I don't mind an orchestra concert, school play, or dance recital. My plea here is for all you teachers to please limit performances to an hour. Pretty, pretty please. Not 90 minutes, certainly not 2 hours. Especially not on a school night. And dress rehearsals need to be scheduled on a separate day.
Many teachers abide by these rules, and I thank them for it. Really I should be thanking all the dedicated teachers who teach my children and plan events to share students' talents, but sometimes I'm more annoyed than thankful.
For instance, Saturday we attended a matinee ballroom dance performance. Although all the numbers were good, we were there primarily to see our child perform for 3 minutes, and I'm pretty sure that most audience members were there to see their 7th and 8th graders. Anyone wanting to see the JV and varsity dancers would likely attend an evening performance, since they didn't include junior high groups, yet JV and varsity numbers dominated the matinee.
Worse is my daughter's dance performance next week, the last day of school. She's supposed to be at the auditorium 1:00-4:00 for dress rehearsal, then perform at 5:00 and 7:30, arriving 30 minutes early for each performance. We'll be lucky if we're done by 9:00 (plus we had to pay admission on top of recital and costume fees). Seems a bit much for dancers, teachers, and families.
On the plus side, the elementary school is not having their annual musical performance this year. For the past two years they've put on 2-hour musical shows, performed three times (2 evening, 1 matinee) to a full gymnasium. Two years ago it was a patriotic program, last year an earth-day program. The shows started at 7:00 p.m. on school nights, and the teachers had to babysit their students and keep them quiet during the shows (how unjust). Perhaps after the environmental show my conservative neighbors complained about liberal brainwashing, thus suspending the grand tradition--if so, I thank them.
I know my parents, siblings, and friends sat through marathon choir concerts (and piano recitals) each December and May when I was in high school, and I never heard them complain. I'm not so generous. I say, leave us wanting more.
Thank you for your time.
Crazy, I suppose, to complain, since I was an eager performer growing up and encourage my kids to do more extra-curricular activities than they choose to do. Taken individually I don't mind an orchestra concert, school play, or dance recital. My plea here is for all you teachers to please limit performances to an hour. Pretty, pretty please. Not 90 minutes, certainly not 2 hours. Especially not on a school night. And dress rehearsals need to be scheduled on a separate day.
Many teachers abide by these rules, and I thank them for it. Really I should be thanking all the dedicated teachers who teach my children and plan events to share students' talents, but sometimes I'm more annoyed than thankful.
For instance, Saturday we attended a matinee ballroom dance performance. Although all the numbers were good, we were there primarily to see our child perform for 3 minutes, and I'm pretty sure that most audience members were there to see their 7th and 8th graders. Anyone wanting to see the JV and varsity dancers would likely attend an evening performance, since they didn't include junior high groups, yet JV and varsity numbers dominated the matinee.
Worse is my daughter's dance performance next week, the last day of school. She's supposed to be at the auditorium 1:00-4:00 for dress rehearsal, then perform at 5:00 and 7:30, arriving 30 minutes early for each performance. We'll be lucky if we're done by 9:00 (plus we had to pay admission on top of recital and costume fees). Seems a bit much for dancers, teachers, and families.
On the plus side, the elementary school is not having their annual musical performance this year. For the past two years they've put on 2-hour musical shows, performed three times (2 evening, 1 matinee) to a full gymnasium. Two years ago it was a patriotic program, last year an earth-day program. The shows started at 7:00 p.m. on school nights, and the teachers had to babysit their students and keep them quiet during the shows (how unjust). Perhaps after the environmental show my conservative neighbors complained about liberal brainwashing, thus suspending the grand tradition--if so, I thank them.
I know my parents, siblings, and friends sat through marathon choir concerts (and piano recitals) each December and May when I was in high school, and I never heard them complain. I'm not so generous. I say, leave us wanting more.
Thank you for your time.
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