Christmas Cooking – Peanut Brittle

brittle

One of my husband’s most favorite treats is peanut brittle so I always try to make several batches for him at Christmas. Of course he doesn’t eat it all because others in the family, myself included, tend to love it too. It has also become a tradition to send a large package of it to my sister and her husband in Florida.

I have tried many different recipes and methods for peanut brittle over the years. Most of them have been fairly good but this recipe is the standout one for me. I have never had it to fail. I will advise that you invest in a good candy thermometer if you plan to cook very much candy because in my opinion there is just too much trial and error in the cup of water method of testing for hard ball, hard crack, etc. When the temperature gets close to the proper point, only seconds can matter between good peanut brittle and burned peanut brittle. Watching the thermometer closely at that stage can prevent a candy disaster.

PEANUT BRITTLE

2 cups sugar
1 cup water
1 cup white  corn syrup
2 cups raw peanuts
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon soda
1 tablespoon margarine

Prepare a cookie sheet with sides by buttering or spraying with butter flavored cooking spray. Using a large, heavy pan, cook sugar, syrup and water to soft ball stage (238 -240°). Stir in peanuts and salt.  Stirring occasionally, cook to hard crack stage (290 – 300°).  Remove from heat and stir in margarine and soda.  Mixture will foam. Pour immediately into buttered pans.  Cool completely.  Break into pieces.

12 Pearls of Christmas: God With Us

LISTENING FOR CHRISTMAS by Deb Kalmbach

I used to be the queen of over-commitment, and December brought out the worst in this malady. It was as if I were poised at an imaginary starting line, and when I flipped the calendar page, I was off and running–the December dash!

You could hardly see any white space on my daily planner it was so jammed with events. Kids’ Christmas programs, church programs, and endless lists of things-to-do obscured my calendar and my vision to see what really mattered. Each day when we hung another ornament on our Advent tree, I felt my chest tighten, and my breathing get shallower. Only single-digit shopping days left…Panic mode was about to set in.

Of course I was singing in the Christmas choir. I love music, and the heavenly Christmas anthems we sang. The neighborhood cookie exchange was an annual tradition. Forget about the old standards, chocolate chip or peanut butter cookies. Let’s talk about jam-filled tea cookies, chocolate-dipped peanut butter balls, or iced sugar cookies with colored sprinkles. My kitchen looked like a Martha Stewart test kitchen gone awry.

My head spins just thinking about it. I usually felt so frustrated and exhausted by Christmas Day, I barely enjoyed the celebration. I repeated this drill for many Christmas seasons, before I finally decided to step back and think about why I was trying to accomplish the impossible. I learned to take a deep breath and accept the fact that I can’t do it all-and I’m much better off if I don’t try.

That’s probably why I’m writing this. The tendency to revert to this frenzied pace by mid-December is still a challenge. I need to be reminded of the quiet simplicity of this season, so I can hear the age-old message once again.

“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son and will call him Immanuel.” Isaiah 7:14

Immanuel! Our God is with us. If we can stop long enough to listen-we will hear the invitation that beckons us to come, to wait, to get ready for our coming King.

No doubt, December will be as busy as ever with gifts to purchase, trees to decorate and carols to sing. But this Advent season, I pray that in the midst of everything contending for our time and attention, our hearts will be moved and our senses sharpened to rejoice in God’s greatest gift.

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Deb Kalmbach is the co-author of Because I Said Forever: Embracing Hope in a Not-So-Perfect Marriage and the author of a book for children, Corey’s Dad Drinks Too Much. Deb and her husband, Randy, make their home in a tiny town in Eastern Washington. Visit Deb at her website or blog.

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A three strand pearl necklace will be given away on New Year’s Day. All you need to do to have a chance of winning is leave a comment here. Come back on New Year’s Day to see if you won!
12 Pearls of Christmas Series and contest sponsored by Pearl Girls®. For more information, please visit www.pearlgirls.info

12 Pearls of Christmas: Life Beautiful

Life Beautiful by Margaret McSweeney

During a quiet moment after Thanksgiving, I started reading my parents’ stack of love letters that I recently found in a storage box. As a Christmas gift to you, I would like to share my father’s words to my mother written to her during Christmas 1949. This incredible “hug from heaven” has been a tangible affirmation that Pearl Girls has true meaning and great worth for women throughout the world. I pray that God will continue to bless this ministry and outreach. May we all realize that the grit in our lives can be transformed into grace through the love of God.

This is what I found written on a tiny folded card inscribed with “Christmas Greetings” on the front:

Christmas 1949

My Dearest Carolyn,

Truly a jewel is a thing of beauty, but a life that is lived to serve others and to glorify our Christ, such as yours, is my dearest, a far surpassing gem in radiance and beauty.

Pearls to me, symbolize this “Life Beautiful” that you have achieved, Carolyn. Each pearl is a result of a great hurt to the oyster’s life. But the little mollusk builds an iridescent coat around this source of hurt, and as a result, the precious pearl comes into being. Life is like that too.

If we, like the pearl, can make of our hurts the basis of a thing of beauty, then we can bear witness to an on-looking world how Christians can overcome through Christ, blows that are seemingly insurmountable.

At this happiest season of the year, I give thanks to God for you, Carolyn – my Pearl of Great Price.

Your Claude

Isn’t this an amazing Christmas Pearl? I hope this message has touched your heart, too. Another Christmas gift I would like to share with you: My father’s lessons on leadership. These can be found on my guest blog post at Michael Hyatt’s website.

During this holiday season, decorate your life with Christmas Pearls — strands of God’s grace-reminders that nothing can separate us from his love, not even the grittiest of circumstances.

And please celebrate the “Pearls of Great Price” in your life through Post a Pearl. It’s a fun and free gift that you can share with special people who have been a blessing to you over the years. Merry Christmas!

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Margaret McSweeney lives with her husband David and two teenage daughters in the Chicago suburbs. She’s the founder of Pearl Girls and a published author. Please visit www.pearlgirls.info for more info. You can also find Margaret at her writing blog, From Finance to Fiction or on Facebook and twitter.
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A three strand pearl necklace will be given away on New Year’s Day. All you need to do to have a chance of winning is leave a comment here. Come back on New Year’s Day to see if you won!

12 Pearls of Christmas Series and contest sponsored by Pearl Girls®. For more information, please visit www.pearlgirls.info

12 Pearls of Christmas: Gifts of Purpose

Too Precious to Wear by Sarah Sundin

One Christmas when my mother was a girl, she received a string of pearls from her father. Since her parents were divorced-an unusual situation in the 1950s-she treasured the pearls as a sign of her father’s love. When he passed away her senior year in high school, the pearls took on even greater significance.

When I was growing up, my mother talked often about the pearls, but my sister and I never saw them. Mom kept them safe in their silk-lined velvet box tucked in her jewelry box. For dressy occasions, she wore other nice jewelry, but never the pearls.

The pearls were too precious to wear.

What if the strand broke and even a single pearl was lost? What if the clasp broke and she lost them forever? She couldn’t risk it. Better to keep them cocooned in silky security.

When my mother offered to let me wear her pearls on my wedding day, I was deeply touched. This was more than “something old” or “something borrowed,” but a sign that she trusted me and loved me.

A few days before the wedding, my mother pulled the box from seclusion. My sister and I watched with curiosity and awe.

The pearls had turned a deep grayish-yellow, they were flaking, and some had fallen apart.

They were fake.

For over thirty years, my mother nurtured a piece of costume jewelry. All that time she could have worn them and enjoyed them without worry. Her father gave them to her for a purpose-to wear them and feel lovely and ladylike and special. He didn’t mean for her to hide them away.

On our wedding day, my husband gave me a strand of real pearls. They symbolize my husband’s sacrificial love for me-they were expensive for a graduate student with half-Scottish blood.

I vowed never to tuck them away but to wear them often. Yes, I’m careful. I inspect the cord and knots and clasp, and I plan to have them restrung when necessary. But I wear them and enjoy them. That’s why my husband gave them to me.

Our heavenly Father gives us gifts too-brilliant and costly. We should cherish them, but we should use them. Whether our individual gifts involve serving, teaching, encouragement, evangelism, or even money-they have a purpose. The Lord wants us to use our gifts to bless others and to spread the message of His love.

While pearls make women look lovely, using our God-given gifts for His kingdom makes us even lovelier. And just as pearls grow more lustrous with frequent wear, our gifts from God grow in beauty and strength the more we use them.

This Christmas I plan to wear my string of pearls, a sign of my husband’s love-and to display my pearls from heaven, a sign of my Father’s love.

Have a lustrous Christmas!

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Sarah Sundin lives in northern California with her husband and three children. She works on-call as a hospital pharmacist. Her first novel, A Distant Melody, historical fiction set during World War II, will be published by Revell in March 2010. Please visit her at http://www.sarahsundin.com or her blog or find her on Facebook.

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A three strand pearl necklace will be given away on New Year’s Day. All you need to do to have a chance of winning is leave a comment here. Come back on New Year’s Day to see if you won!

12 Pearls of Christmas Series and contest sponsored by Pearl Girls®. For more information, please visit www.pearlgirls.info

Rocky Mountain Oasis by Lynnette Bonner

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!


Today’s Wild Card author is:



and the book:


Rocky Mountain Oasis

OakTara (July 17, 2009)

***Special thanks to Lynnette Bonner for E-mailing me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

LYNNETTE BONNER, the daughter of missionaries, was born and raised in Malawi, Africa, graduated high school from Rift Valley Academy, a boarding school in Kenya, and attended Northwest University in Washington, where she met her husband, Marty. A few years after their marriage, they moved to Pierce, Idaho. While studying the history of their little town, Lynnette was inspired to begin The Shepherd’s Heart Series with Rocky Mountain Oasis.

Visit the author’s website.




Product Details:

List Price: $18.95
Paperback: 300 pages
Publisher: OakTara (July 17, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602902143
ISBN-13: 978-1602902145

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Pierce City, Idaho Territory, August 1885


Evening shadows stretched long as Sky placed the last of the supplies onto his pack mule. The leather of the packs creaked as he settled them into place, cinching them down and making sure everything was in proper order. He stood in front of Fraser’s Mercantile for a moment scratching the mule behind its long gray ears, surveying Main Street.

A lone pine tree stood in the middle of the dusty street at the south end of town, its shadow falling due east. Summer crickets chirped lustily from the bushes nearby, and he could hear the occasional tink of bottle on shot glass emanating from Roo’s Saloon across the street.

From an upper story window in the Joss house, a Chinese woman emptied a pail of water onto the street, splattering mud on Gaffney’s Pioneer Hotel next door and leaving a small muddy patch in the alley between the buildings.

“Sky! You comin’ in here? Food’s gonna be cold ‘fore you ever set down to table!” A rough gravely voice interrupted his perusal of the town. He glanced up at the friendly, round face of Jed Swanson who leaned over the rail in front of his boarding house. “Food ain’t gonna be fit for hogs if’n you don’t get in here,” Jed complained, rubbing a plump hand down the front of his greasy, apron-clad belly.

A smile lit Sky’s face. Jed’s food always fell somewhere between cardboard and leather, but Jed invariably claimed that was because it had been left sitting too long.

“Your food? Fit for Hogs?” Sky asked sarcastically, unable to pass up the opportunity to tease his old friend.

“Hmmph!” Jed shook his wooden spoon at Sky and continued, “Mind your manners or you won’t be gettin’ any o’ my fine fixin’s.” He turned away, slamming the door as he went inside.

Giving the mule a friendly slap on the neck, and leaving him tied to the rail, Sky made his way up the steps to Jed’s Boarding House, the building next door to Fraser’s Mercantile. The rough wooden door opened on squeaking hinges as Sky entered, hanging his black Stetson on a peg in the wall. He ran his hands through blond curly hair as he scanned the room.

The light in the gloomy confines of the rugged log building emanated from a small oil lamp set in the middle of the dining table and a brightly burning fire in the fire place on the back wall. The stone and mortar hearth, stacked high with logs on one side, held the wrought-iron hook by which the coffee pot could be swung into the heat of the fire. Off to the left, on the back wall, he could see the dark shadow of the doorway that led to the rooms Jed rented out. As Sky turned to the right he could see several men already seated around the coarse plank table, shoveling food into their mouths as though it might disappear before their eyes, their forks clanking loudly against tin plates. Sky’s dark brown eyes glinted as he noticed his cousin, Jason, sitting in the dim light at the end of the table, his back to the wall. Jason looked as surly as ever.

Sauntering casually to an empty chair Sky sat down, his back to the room, and began to serve his plate listening to the conversation around him.

Fraser was speaking. “This boy is a lunatic, I tell you and he wants to court my Alice. She’s only fifteen and I sent her down to Lewiston to get an education not to court boys. So I just told him straight out, when I was down to Lewiston last, that he had better stay away from her. Now, with her being over seventy-five miles from here, that in itself wouldn’t give me a whole lot of comfort, since I wouldn’t trust that boy as far as I could throw him. But I also told Judge Rand that the boy was not to come around anymore and if anyone will make sure he don’t, it’ll be the judge.”

Sky’s mind wandered to the face of Sharyah, his blonde little sister back home. He wondered if the boys were coming to call on her already. She was just about the same age as Alice Fraser. Sky smiled to himself. Knowing Sharyah and her beautiful sunny smile, the boys were lined up for a mile outside of the little white farmhouse back in Shilo. Sharyah had me wound around her little finger for years. What would be different with the boys her own age? I’ll have to write Dad to keep a special eye on her for me.

Coming out of his reverie he tuned into the conversation around him, realizing that Fraser had moved on to a new subject.

“So I went to Chang and confronted him about this bogus gold.” He paused to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, chewing for a moment. He glanced around the table, knife and fork held vertically by his plate in suspended animation. “Do you know he had the gall to admit to the whole thing? No remorse whatsoever!” He shrugged, speaking around the food in his mouth. “I just don’t know what else I can do.” He looked back down at his plate and continued to saw through the black slab that passed as a piece of meat.

Sky listened thoughtfully as he ate. He knew Lee Chang. His character was questionable at best and downright despicable at worst.

“Hmmph,” growled Jed, “that there Chinese is one man this here town could do ‘thout. He shorly is a cussed buzzard, that’n.”

A low snort came from the other side of the table and Sky looked down to the shadows at the end. The sound had come from his cousin Jason, a large man with unwashed blond curls covering his round head. A large belly, the result of his love of beer, protruded over his huge silver belt buckle, bumping the table. He belched loudly, then spoke. “This town would be better off if we got rid of all the Chinks. I tell you, I’ve never met a respectable Celestial. Not one. Always sneakin’ and spyin’. Lazy cusses, too.” He swiped his greasy mouth on his shoulder, the stain there proof that he did so often. Max, the miner sitting next to him, made no sound but nodded his head emphatically as he shoved a huge forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

“This town wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for the Chinese, Jason.” Sky’s voice was nonchalant. He picked up his glass and took a drink of water, his dark eyes looking over the rim fixed on his burly cousin.

Jason snorted again, blowing through his nose. “You always were too partial to them Celestials, Sky. If you had any sense you’d realize the type of scum they really are.”

Sky changed the subject. “How have you been, Jason? Haven’t seen you for awhile.” His tone was friendly but Jason glared at him.

“You been pinin’ away for information on your beloved cousin?” he asked, his expression caustic.

Sky, accustomed to his cousin’s recent foul moods, shrugged his shoulders and turned back to his food, praying silently that one day his relationship with Jason would be restored.

Jed looked back and forth between Sky and Jason. He had known both men for a number of years and still couldn’t see how they could possibly be related. Jason was slovenly and rude, always ill-tempered and crass, but Jed had never known Sky to be any of those things. Sky had moved into the area five years ago and had been coming to Jed’s place faithfully ever since. Jed’s mind wandered back to the first time he met Sky.

While out hunting, he had shot and wounded a large cow elk. The cow had run off and Jed had followed the trail for several miles before he lost it. He was wandering about in the brush trying to recover the trail when he looked up and saw Sky standing before him. Never in all his born days had he been so surprised. Jed prided himself on being a woodsman with ears as keen as a fox, but he hadn’t heard Sky’s approach.

Clean shaven, Sky wore buckskin pants, soft leather moccasins and a beaded rawhide vest over a white, open-collared shirt. In one hand he held a long-barreled rifle. The hilt of a large knife protruded from a leather sheath at his hips, its polished deer-horn handle glimmering in the sunlight.

Sky grinned and tipped his black Stetson back on his head, revealing clean-cut curly blond hair. His dark, twinkling eyes scanned Jed for a moment before he spoke. “Lost it huh?” Switching the rifle to his left hand, he held out his right in Jed’s direction. “Name’s Skyler Jordan.”

Jed took his hand. “Jed Swanson.” Gesturing to the brush, he said, “She bled for quite a ways, but now,” he shook his head glancing around, “cain’t seem to pick up the trail.”

Sky nodded settling his hat back on his head. “Heard your shot. I was coming to lend a hand with the packing. Mind if I have a look around?”

Jed shook his head, his hand sweeping the area around them. “She’s all yours.” He figured Sky wouldn’t find anything, but he had been wrong. Within an hour they had gutted and skinned the cow and were headed back to town. Each of them packed a quarter of the animal with the other half strapped to Jed’s mule.

Jed shook his head at the memory. He had never met as skilled a woodsman as Skyler Jordan.

Bringing his mind back to the present, Jed fixed his eyes on Jason. “Ain’t you gonna tell ol’ Sky here about yer plans?” he asked sweetly, knowing full well that Jason didn’t want Sky to know what he was talking about.

The venomous look that Jason sent Jed piqued Sky’s interest. A smile twitched the corner of Jed’s mouth as Sky looked at his cantankerous cousin, one blond eyebrow raised in question.

Jason ignored him and went back to shoveling food into his mouth.

Sky turned his questioning eyes on Jed, continuing to eat calmly.

Jed spoke around a mouthful of meat. “Your cousin is soon gonna be married. Or so he’s been boastin’ all over town.”

Sky’s fork stopped half way to his mouth and he turned his brown eyes back to his cousin. What woman in her right mind would marry Jason?

Jason growled, throwing his fork onto his plate with a clatter. “Jed, some day I’ll teach you to keep yer yap shut.” He turned belligerent eyes on Sky. “That’s right. I got me a mail-order sweetheart comin’ in on tomorrow’s stage to Greer’s Ferry. I’m going to have me a purtty little wife to cook for me…and keep me warm at night.” He jabbed his elbow into Max’s ribs, a dissolute leer on his face.

Sky set his fork down quietly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Pushing away from the table, he stood and walked over to the blackened coffee pot that sat near the fire, pouring himself a cup, movements deliberate and casual. His heart went out to the poor girl. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so surprised.

“You got a picture of this woman?” His voice was nonchalant. He hooked a thumb through his belt loop, and watched Jason through the steam drifting up from his mug as he took a sip of coffee.

Jason gave his habitual snort. “Like I’d show it to the likes o’ you. Purtty little thing though. And young, too. Means she probably ain’t never been had before.” The lewd grin was back for a moment before he stuffed a large piece of meat into his cheek.

Sky’s expression did not change but he said, “Well, let me be the first to offer you my congratulations.” He lifted his coffee mug in a toast. “To the happy groom.” No one in the room responded; he had not expected them to. Turning back he looked into the fire, its reflection dancing in his dark eyes. The silence in the room was palpable, only the crackling of the fire and the clatter of silverware disturbed the stillness.

Quietly Sky prayed. Lord what should I do? I wouldn’t give a dog I liked to Jason. You know I care for him, Lord, but…. His prayer trailed off as he tried to think of a solution. Nothing came to mind. Remembering that he still had to travel home tonight, he set his cup down.

Turning to Jed he placed a hand on his stomach and grinned, “Best hog swill I’ve had in a long time, Jed.”

Jed glared at him, waving his fork in dismissal.

Turning to Fraser he said, “Been a pleasure, Fraser. See you again soon.”

Fraser turned to him with a friendly smile as he wiped the corners of his mouth with long slender fingers. “Sky, always good doing business with you.” Sky nodded his head and Fraser’s eyes held Sky’s for a moment, questioning what he was going to do about the situation before he turned back to his food.

Sky spoke to the rest of the men at the table. “Goodnight, gentlemen.” He pulled his hat from the peg by the door and pushed it back on his head as he exited onto the now-darkened street.

His boots making no sound in the soft dust of the road bed, he walked over to the rail in front of Fraser’s Mercantile and untied his mule, leading it further down the street toward the livery. Retrieving his stallion, he mounted up and cantered the horse out of town, leading the mule behind



MY REVIEW:

Rocky Mountain Oasis is a historical western set in the wild frontier territory of Idaho during the late 1800’s.  Brooke is a young woman who has been abused by all the men in her life before being sold as a mail order bride by her uncle. Because of her past history, Brooke is afraid to trust any man, even her new husband Sky who appears to be different. As the newlyweds try to get adjusted to married life, a vicious murder is committed in Pierce City and the two find themselves in the middle of the investigation and in danger.

Rocky Mountain Oasis contains one of the strongest gospel messages that I have encountered in a novel in some time yet it does not detract from the story line at all. The message is woven seamlessly and naturally into the plot. The story is a perfect blend of humor, suspense, and romance with plenty of history and glimpses of human nature thrown in for good measure. The author addresses such topics as physical abuse and its consequences, alcohol and drug abuse, and racial prejudice. Although I read Rocky Mountain Oasis as a pdf file, I found it to be an easy to read and attention grabbing book.