New Years Resolution Oatmeal Wheat

Making a loaf of bread a day in 2013, okay, almost every day, was the best exposure therapy for my kitchen phobia. What began as desensitization to recipe-reading and basic ingredient identification has blossomed into near-foodie-ism. I now crave new culinary challenge. I now miss the kitchen when I’ve been out of it for several days. As we just arrived home from our 30-hour road trip return to Minnesota, the year’s first issue of Food and Wine was waiting in the mailbox, (thank you Mom for the subscription), and I tore into it the way I used to tear into Chekov.

For 2014, my Resolution is inspired by Aki Shibata, a local artist who made possible my NPR debut. Her exhibit at the Rochester Art Center is experiential art featuring “blind dates.” As a participant in her exhibit, I joined her at a table with a meal she had prepared. We knew nothing of one another, and yet we talked for over two hours. I want to exercise this art in my own home, once a month. New Years Resolution 2014: Each month, I will invite a total stranger to the house, I will cook a meal for the guest, and we will enjoy improvisation and newfound, unlikely friendship. Food and hospitality really are Art– high time they found their way into a proper museum. Too bad you can only do a true blind date once.

New Years Resolution Oatmeal Wheat Bread
2 cups whole milk
1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats (not quick-cooking) plus additional for topping
1/2 cup warm water (105-115°F)
2 cups sourdough starter
1/2 cup mild honey
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) unsalted butter, melted and cooled, plus additional for buttering pans
3 cups stone-ground whole-wheat flour
About 2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon salt
olive oil for oiling bowl
1 large egg, lightly beaten with 1 tablespoon water

Heat milk in a 1 1/2- to 2-quart saucepan over low heat until hot but not boiling, then remove pan from heat and stir in oats. Let stand, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until cooled to warm.
Stir together water, sourdough starter, and 1 teaspoon honey in a small bowl. Mix in melted butter, and remaining honey into cooled oatmeal and sourdough slurry.
Stir together whole-wheat flour, 1 1/2 cups unbleached flour, and salt in a large bowl. Add oat mixture, stirring with a wooden spoon until a soft dough forms. Turn out onto a well-floured surface and knead with floured hands, adding just enough of remaining unbleached flour to keep from sticking, until dough is smooth, soft, and elastic, about 10 minutes (dough will be slightly sticky). Form dough into a ball and transfer to an oiled large bowl, turning to coat. Cover bowl loosely with plastic wrap and a kitchen towel; let rise at warm room temperature until doubled in bulk, 1 to 1 1/2 hours.

Shape dough into whatever you like—boule, batard, put it in a loaf pan. Cover loosely with a kitchen towel and let dough rise in a draft-free place at warm room temperature until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.
Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 375°F. Lightly brush tops of loaves with some of egg wash and sprinkle with oats, then bake until bread is golden and loaves sound hollow when tapped on bottom, 35 to 40 minutes.
Transfer to a rack to cool completely, about 1 1/2 hours.

This loaf was lovely and large—much like the boulder that fell from a butte just outside of Bozeman, Montana, sparing the car, and our lives, by mere yards. Thanks be to God for safe travels—over 60 hours of picturesque and catastrophy-free cross-country freeway miles. Great to be back home, even if our pipes are frozen (forgot to leave the heat on—toilet bowl water was an ice rink, whoa).

Black-Eyed Peas and Kale

I recently read somewhere that eating black-eyed peas and greens on New Years is good luck. The greens represent dollar bills and the black-eyed peas represent coins that swell when cooked—both signs of prosperity. Beyond totems, these ingredients are cheap and good for you—easy on the wallet and on the metabolism after the season of cookies we just squeezed through. KP and I need luck for a different reason today as we are headed back to the Midwest about a half ton heavier (not entirely from cookies). We started in snow and to snow we shall return—but with a pig roaster, which looks like a missile launcher on the back of the truck.

Point A.

Point B. And B in this case is for BBQ.

Black-Eyed Peas and Kale

Adapted from Cooks Country March 2013

2 cups black-eyed peas, soaked overnight and rinsed

4 oz of pancetta, cut into 1 inch pieces

1 large yellow onion, chopped

6 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes

1 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth

1 pound kale, chopped

1 tsp cumin

1 tsp red pepper flakes

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 tsp sugar

1 tbsp apple cider vinegar

½ tsp black pepper to taste

Heat pancetta (key ingredient) over medium heat in a dutch oven, 5 minutes or until crispy. Remove the pancetta crispy pieces and save on a paper towel aside. Leave the bacon grease in the pot and add onion, cook until carmelized, maybe 10 minutes. Then add garlic, cumin, and red pepper flakes and and cook until fragrant, maybe a minute more.

Add broth and tomatoes with their juices, bring to a boil and then add the kale and cover and simmer for 15 minutes.

Add the black-eyed peas, cover again and simmer for 15 more minutes, until peas are tender. Uncover and boil off broth until ¼ remains (or less). Add the black pepper, sugar, and apple cider vinegar to brighten the taste, top with the pancetta crumbly crisps and enjoy!

Love and luck to you all in the New Year!

Pane Siciliano

I love that I don’t know what day of the week it is. The holidays always do me like this. Blissfully disoriented and marvelously rested–reconnected to the core people in my life, mildly thawed. Sometime before we left on this trip, I made a loaf to gift to the person who made the one thousandth comment on this blog, thanks for reading Mike!—Yes, you too can win prizes which I choose to award at random! (A tactic which happens to have been part of my classroom management plan when I ran a high school science class.) This time the prize was a bread made with mostly semolina flour, great when sliced thin and toasted. I particularly enjoyed the artisanal designs the recipe recommends. The 1000^th commenter got the Eye of Santa Lucia.

Pane Siciliano

Adapted from the Italian Baker

Ingredients (makes two loaves):

1 ½ cups sourdough starter

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 teaspoon malt syrup (note: or sugar)

1 cup water, room temp

2 ½ cups durum flour (I used Bob’s Red Mill Semolina)

1 cup all-purpose flour

2-3 teaspoons (10-15 grams) salt

1/3 cup sesame seeds

Stir the starter into the water in the bowl. Stir in the oil and malt (sugar); then add the flour and salt and mix until smooth. Finish kneading by hand for 8-10 minutes—crashing when necessary to relax the gluten.

Place the dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover tightly with plastic wrap and let rise until doubled, about 1 1/2 hours. The dough should be springy and blistered but still soft and velvety.

Punch the dough down, knead it briefly and let it rest for 5 minutes. Flatten it into a square, then roll it into a long narrow rope, about 20-22 inches long. “The dough should be so elastic that it could almost be swung like a jump rope,” says Carol Fields. Cut the dough into two pieces and shape into either:

1)The Mafalda: Curl the rope up like a fire hose on a rack, leaving a 5 inch tail. Place the tail on top of the accordian-like dough.

2) Occhi di Santa Lucia (the Eye of St. Lucia): Place the rope on the counter and start coiling the two ends up, working from opposite directions, so that you have an S shape with spirals in the loops. [pictured above]

Place the loaves on floured parchment paper, peels sprinkled with cornmeal or oiled baking sheets. Brush the entire surface of each loaf lightly with water and sprinkle with sesame seeds. Pat the seeds gently into the dough. Cover with plastic wrap and then a kitchen towel and let rise until doubled, 1 to 1 1/2 hours.

Heat the oven with stones to 425F. Bake 10 minutes, spraying 3 times with water. Reduce heat to 400F and bake 25-30 minutes longer. Can check for internal temp of 190-200F degrees.

The infinity shape of this bread is how long I intend to carry on with this New Year’s Resolution of 2013–I can’t give bread-baking up. I didn’t quite make a loaf of bread Every Day this year, but 270/365 ain’t bad. Looking for inspiration to nuance the resolution for the coming annum–suggestions?

Quinoa Cakes with Red Curry Sauce

Love being home where I can learn Mom’s latest recipes—this dish a particular new fave. Fermented garlic is her savory additive of the hour—and despite its necrotic appearance, I concur—it is a vegetarian’s dream.

Notably, I tried to tout myself at the family dinner table as a reformed flexitarian, someone who eats mainly vegetarian dishes but will occasionally eat meat and fish (if it’s really good)—which my brother quickly dressed down: “that means Rachel eats whatever she wants but still feels righteous about all her choices.” Bingo.

Quinoa Cakes with Red Curry Veggie Sauce

Recipe from my mother

Quinoa Cakes:

one cup of red quinoa in 2 cups of H20, bring to boil, cover and simmer for 15 minutes, cool.

add one cup bread crumbs

add 1/8 cup whole wheat flour

add one clove fermented garlic (black and rotten looking!) squished

add two eggs. Stir until blended.

Sauce:

one shallot

3 cloves fermented garlic

1/4 cup fish sauce

1 14 oz can coconut cream

1 cubed zucchini

1 portobello mushroom, also cubed

1 roasted red pepper, chopped

1/3 cup cilantro chopped

1/2 cup fresh spinach chopped

fresh lime juice

1.5 Tablespoons of red curry paste (I’m sure you could use green curry if you like that better!)

In olive oil, sauté the shallot, add vegetables, excluding spinach and cilantro. Cook until the shallot is translucent. Then add coconut cream and fish sauce, along with fresh spinach.

Leave to simmer and begin grilling the cakes in another sauté pan, in olive oil. Make two-inch patties by scooping them onto a large spoon and flattening them in your hand. Off the grill, drain them onto a paper towel and add the cilantro to your sauce.

These are great when paired with roasted asparagus and mandarin slices. Super flavor, and healthy healthy healthy.

Pan Giallo Sandwich Rolls

Maybe y’all have as much leftover roast as we do after myriad family gatherings. Might I suggest a post-Yule season of sandwiches? Pan giallo is a type of corn bread from Lombardy that doesn’t taste like cornbread—more savory than sweet. Not super yellow—great for au jus and beef.

Pan Giallo Sandwich Rolls

Adapted from The Italian Baker

2 cups sourdough starter

2 cups warm water

½ cup olive oil

3 ¾ cups cornmeal

3 cups all-purpose flour (I used 2 cups of whole-wheat because I’m here with my granola mother and it makes me conscious)

1 tablespoon salt

Mix all ingredients. Knead bread by hand for 10-15 minutes until smooth and a bit tacky. Allow bread to rise in an oiled bowl for 2 hours, or until doubled. Split into 8-10 equal balls and roll into small baguette shapes. Bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes. Allow to cool before using for sandwiches.

Christmas Eve Smorgasbord Limpa Bread

Christmas is the only day I don’t feel guilty taking a 5-hour nap after playing charades in my pajamas until noon. What a lovely holiday. Great to see our West Coast family, so many highlights, and thrilled to have a vacation for a few days.

Charades by the tree–my brother trying to get us to guess “bowflex” — Izzy sleeping through all kinds of provocation, especially by two-year-old nephews.

Dice games after dinner with a precocious schnauzer heading up the table. (Very small, this shot something like a Where’s Waldo?) Bacon-topped maple bars courtesy of my father-in-law.

This year at KP’s family’s Swedish smorgasbord, I was charged with the responsibility to bake up the traditional limpa bread, a dark rye.

Christmas Eve Smorgasbord Limpa Bread

recipe by Lynn Binsacca (I think?!)

1 ½ cup sourdough starter

1 cup milk (scalded, or at least warm warm)

1/3 cup sugar

¼ cup molasses

2 tablespoons orange peel

2 tsp anise

2 eggs

2 tablespoons melted butter

2 ½ cups rye flour

2 ½ to 3 cups all purpose flour

Mix all ingredients, knead, and let rise in an oiled bowl for 2 to 3 hours in a warm place. For proofing, set dough to rise on a baking sheet or peel and parchment. Preheat oven to 375. Slash. Bake for 30-35 minutes. Serve at a smorgasbord.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Sourdough and Spice Popovers

Popovers are the hollowest of muffins. The perfect bread-form soup spoons, or whipped cream receptacles. They look like a herd of mollusks perched on the cooling rack. I’ve made these before, to the smooth tones of Teddy Pendergrass crooning on about hot oils (key ingredient, here)—but never with sourdough starter, which is this month’s Sourdough Surprises mission. I experimented with larger amounts of sourdough starter at first, but there seems to be an inverse relationship between sourdough volume and popover rise, so I recommend only trace amounts of starter. I also played with some new flavors—originally parmesan and rosemary, which tasted great with an Italian meal—but because Christmas is coming, I thought a popover-wannabe-cinnamon roll might be something that would go well with the late morning breakfast around a bedazzled tree. Looking forward to “popping over” to the Pacific Northwest soon to see our families for the holidays—and by “popover” I mean in terms of mollusk-time—as we’ll be driving the 22 hours west. Really hope the mid-wintered Rockies are easy to popover… Just in case, I’m packing three batches of these—and possibly one human-sized popover we can climb inside for shelter and warmth if need be.

Sourdough and Spice Popovers

1/8 cup sourdough starter

2 eggs

1 cup half and half with a splash of nonfat milk

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon cinnamon

1 tablespoon sugar

1 tsp nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted

1 tablespoon olive oil (1 tablespoon, plus 2 teaspoons for making in a muffin pan)

In a medium bowl, whisk the eggs and milk and the trace touch of sourdough all together. Whisk the flour, spices, sugar and salt together in a separate small bowl then sprinkle the mixture over the egg/milk mixture. Stir with a spatula until the flour is just incorporated, then add the melted butter and olive oil. Whisk the mixture together thoroughly until it is smooth with a few bubbles on top. Cover with a clean, dry dish towel and let rest for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, pour ½ tbsp olive oil into each of your popover receptacles (be it popover pan or muffin pan). Put the tray into the oven, and turn the heat to 450. Allow the oil to heat along with the oven. When the oven has heated and the “dough” is sufficiently rested, quickly remove the tray from the oven with the hot oil, and carefully pour the dough right on top of the oil. In the muffin tray, I fill each cup 2/3s full, but I’ve heard you should go to the top in popover pans.

Slide that puppy back in the 450 oven, and bake for 20 minutes (without peaking! This is key! I believe that popovers are fundamentally shy and won’t bloom if you keep checking), then turn the oven temperature down to 350 and bake for another 15-20 minutes, until nice and toasty brown. Remove from pan and cool on rack at once—if they cool in the pan, there is likely still some olive oil that they will continue to cook in, and will get burned and gross.

As seen on www.sourdoughsurprises.blogspot.com

Chocolate Angel Pie

“Oh, you’re the caramel Americano with whip girl,” the barista said to me with a wink as he wrote my request onto the red cup. “One of my co-workers has a crush on you.” My face turned the color of the cup, and then I must have floated out of Starbucks, clapping my feet in twitterpation. What!? Crush-material? Bedraggled, haggard bookworm me!? Of course, I’m happily married. But as years pass without relent, a woman begins to wonder when exactly her transformation into a pumpkin will come to pass. The moment when you go from being one category of woman to, well, another. I did have a major pumpkin moment early on—when, at 22, one of my high school students asked if my husband was my son.

But today, a total stranger handed me the emotional equivalent of a glass slipper, and by God it still fits.

Thank you, Starbucks angel, for thwarting my pumpkinhood a little further down the road.

Chocolate Angel Pie

Adapted from Cook’s Country

MERINGUE SHELL

3 egg whites

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

1 tbsp cornstarch

½ cup granulated sugar

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

CHOCOLATE FILLING

5 oz bittersweet chocolate, chopped

9 oz milk chocolate, chopped (I used milk chocolate chips)

3 egg yolks

1 ½ tbsp. sugar

½ cup half and half

½ tsp salt

1 ¼ cup heavy cream, chilled

WHIPPED CREAM TOPPING

1 ½ cups heavy cream

2 tbsp strained confectioners sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Cocoa powder for dusting the top

CHOCOLATE FILLING (make this first because it has to chill for three hours)

Microwave the chocolate on medium heat for 2-4 minutes and stir until completely melted and smooth. Set aside, uncovered, briefly.

Place the egg yolks in a mixing bowl. Add the sugar and salt and stir with a wire whisk to mix well (they should be thoroughly mixed but not beaten until airy). Bring the half and half to a simmer in a small saucepan over medium heat. Pour the half and half into the egg yolk mixture, stirring, then return it all to the saucepan and continue to stir on medium heat for a minute until it has slightly thickened. Then gradually add the egg-half/half mixture to the warm chocolate, stirring constantly with the whisk, until smooth. Set aside and let cool for about 8 minutes.

In a chilled bowl with chilled beaters whip the heavy cream until it makes peaks.

Then in 2 or 3 additions, add the whipped cream to the chocolate mixture and fold that in until all the white streaks are gone. Let chill in the fridge for at least 3 hours.

MERINGUE SHELL

Adjust rack 1/3 up from the bottom of the oven and preheat oven to 275. Lightly butter a 10-inch ovenproof pie plate, dust it with cornstarch and set it aside.

Mix sugar and cornstarch into a small bowl. In the small bowl of an electric mixer at moderate speed beat the egg whites and cream of tartar for a few seconds or just until they are foamy. Beat at moderate speed for a minute or so until the whites hold a soft shape. Continue to beat at moderate speed and start adding the sugar mix, one tablespoonful at a time. Beat for half a minute or so between additions. When all the sugar has been added, add the vanilla and then continue adding the sugar as before. When all of the sugar has been added, increase the speed to high and beat for 3 minutes until the meringue is glossy and peaks. If it feels grainy, beat some more. The meringue should be very stiff.

Use a rubber spatula to spread the meringue around the sides of the plate and then place the remainder on the bottom of the plate and spread it to make a shell almost 1 inch thick and extending about 3/4 of an inch above the rim of the plate. The meringue should be fairly smooth on the bottom and sides, but the top of the rim should be shaped into irregular peaks.

Bake for one and a half hours until the meringue is a pale, sandy color. The meringue should dry out in the oven as much as possible, but the color should not become any darker than a pale gold. Then turn the oven temp down to 200 and bake for another hour until completely dry. Open the oven door slightly, and let the meringue cool in the oven. It will probably crack during cooling. Try not to stress—it is Christmastime and this is a pie—not emergency surgery. When it’s cool, and the filling is chilled, put the filling into the meringue, and marvel.

WHIPPED CREAM TOPPING

In a chilled bowl with chilled beaters whip the cream with the sugar and vanilla only until the cream holds a shape. Spread over the chocolate filling. Refrigerate for another hour, until filling is set. Dust with cocoa. Slice with a knife and serve within three hours of finishing the whole thing.

Usually I am not a fan of performing tightly time-sensitive recipes because it makes me feel like my pants are too tight (even before I’ve eaten it!) But this one is worth it. Meringue, in my opinion, is a veritable culinary miracle. If I lived in a gingerbread house, I would use meringue for drywall. Also for lawn sculptures.

Pane Pugliese and the Stairs Epiphany

For the last few weeks, I’ve been enacting an early New Year’s resolution to climb stairs, as a rule, alternative to using elevators. This started when on my first day of the public health block, the classes for which perch up on the 18^th floor of the Mayo Building, when I arrived, the wait for the elevator exceeded fifteen minutes, and class started in five. I fled up eighteen flights that first day, arrived on time to class, glistening, short of breath, and a tid self-righteous. I realized in that moment that the advantages of taking the stairs far outweigh the disadvantages.

Obvious advantages: additional exercise to compensate for increased seasonal cookie consumption, avoiding flu incubators (i.e. elevators), avoiding having to make and listen to elevator spiels, DIY blush, DIY heat when it’s subzero outside, the euphoria of self-righteousness for being a role model of healthy behaviors. Disadvantages: fighting the inner bad attitude monologue for five minutes, calf cramps when wearing high heels.

The best strategy I have for fighting the inner bad attitude monologue, which seems to rear its ugly head in moments of exertive monotony (aka solitary exercise, bread kneading, or housework) is—find a way to lose count. You don’t watch the clock when you go to a party (if it’s a good party), so don’t watch the clock or count the stairs/miles when you exercise. Even if you have to stare at your shoes, cover your odometer with tape, or recite sonnets—losing count is the key to finding joy. And the reason for this is when you lose sight of where you need to be, you can begin to enjoy where you are. Today’s stairs epiphany.

Pane Pugliese

Adapted from The Italian Baker

Biga

1/2 cup water

1 1/4 cups Unbleached All-Purpose Flour

¼ cup sourdough starter

In a small mixing bowl, combine the water, flour and yeast to form a soft dough. Don’t knead it; just make sure all of the ingredients are well-incorporated. Set this mixture aside in a warm place, covered, overnight.

Dough

all of the biga (above)

3 cups water

7 ½ cups Unbleached All-Purpose Flour

1 tbsp salt

1 ¼ cup sourdough starter

Knead all of the dough ingredients together, until the dough is cohesive and elastic (though not necessarily smooth), about 10 minutes. Cover the dough and let it rise in a warm place for 2 to 3 hours, until it triples. This is a huge amount of dough and I recommend using a thoroughly large bowl. Large large large.

Scoop the very wet dough, in two separate pieces, onto a surface that is heavily floured. Roll the dough lengthwise, using your thumbs. Give a 90 degree turn, pat flat, and then roll down again. Then shape each piece into a rough boule as best you can. Cover the dough with plastic wrap, and allow it to rise for about 90 minutes. It’ll spread quite a bit; don’t worry, it’s supposed to. Here is the difference between shaped and unshaped.

Bake them in a preheated 450°F oven on a baking stone for 50-60 minutes, or until they’re a deep, golden brown. The crust will appear nearly burnt. Turn the oven off, prop the door open, transfer the loaves from the pan to the oven rack, and allow them to cool in the turned-off oven.

Pane Pugliese is a “delicious peasant bread,” a recipe appropriated from Turkish conquerors by the Italians. I’m not sure why, but the cookbook says that traditionally, this bread is held to the chest and sliced with the knife pointing toward the heart. What?! Not only does this seem unsafe, but also melodramatic. I don’t want any chest hairs or blouse threads on my bread plate.

The slack, wet dough creates a crumb that is full of airy holes and lightsome. Any lighter and I might consider using a slice as a hovercraft to carry me up tomorrow’s eighteen flights.

Brie-Stuffed Italian French Toast

It must have been singing at the Department of Surgery Holiday Party last night that got me in the mood at breakfast to make incisions. This morning was an exciting operation on the loaf of whole wheat Italian bread I made after I got home from the gig—into which I sewed Brie cheese implants. Then I proceeded to cook the toast like I normally do when making French toast. Oooh la la. Something else to sing about.

Brie-Stuffed Italian French Toast

Adapted from Hyvee Seasons

4 thick slices French or Italian bread

4 oz Brie cheese, sliced 1/4-inch thick

6 large eggs

2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp nutmeg (key ingredient!)

1 tbsp sugar

1 tsp vanilla

1 c. whole milk

1 c. chopped walnuts

2 tbsp unsalted butter, softened

2 tbsp powdered sugar

Maple syrup (home-made is what I prefer!)

Syrup recipe: Bring 1 ¼ cups water with 1 cup white sugar and ¼ cup brown sugar to a boil and keep it boiling until it is showing signs of syrupiness (can take 10-15 minutes). Then, remove from the heat, and as its cooling, add about a tsp of Mapleine or some other maple flavoring (although mapleine is the best). Store in a syrup pouring container in the fridge.

Surgical technique for Brie implantation:

Make an incision on the crust side of the bread slices about 3/4 of the way through to create a pocket.

Push Brie implant into the pocket (you may choose to suture closed, but I think that is unnecessary—unless you have decided to implant an ungodly amount of cheese, in which case, all that proceeds is at your own risk); set aside.

In a medium shallow bowl, whisk eggs, cinnamon, nutmeg, sugar, vanilla and milk; set aside. Put chopped nuts on a sheet pan; set aside.

Dip bread slices in egg batter making sure to let each side soak for about 20 seconds. Dip the edges into the nuts. In a large skillet, heat butter over medium-high heat. When butter has melted, add stuffed bread slices and brown on each side for 2-3 minutes. Remove from skillet and serve immediately. Top with a sprinkle of powdered sugar and syrup.

See, you can’t even see the scar from the incision! The holiday party gig went well, but it was hard not to feel that I was being visually dissected by the audience of surgeons. Our group does old jazz standards, so it was quite a surprise when a sequin-clad gynecologist approached me on break to ask if we did Abba’s “Dancing Queen.” Oh how I wished, for her sake, that we did. I feel moderate chagrin on having entirely missed the 70s. So I’ve been playing Abba all morning while making pies for my Ugly Sweater party tonight–the seventies being a decade of particularly ugly sweaters. Care to join me? Ten times through this song is probably a good start at burning off the calories from a brie Italian French toast breakfast…but only if you dance with three ounces more heart than the ladies in Abba’s awful music video. I thought disco had a touch more cardio.