Archives for 2012

Jack’s Favorite Chocolate Malted Chip Cookies!

February 12, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

North Texas is currently under all sorts of winter weather advisories including snow and sleet. In dramatic times like these, when our drafty house is c-o-l-d, I bake. Most people are at the Fiesta stocking up on Doritos and Miller Lite, but I prefer to take my chances with my sparsely stocked cupboard.

I should be at Fiesta. As of this morning we are down to our last 2 rolls of toilet paper and therefore, in official rationing mode. Risky in life-threatening weather, I realize.

Ingredients:

(this recipe makes about 3 dozen – I usually half it)

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature

3/4 cups golden brown sugar

3/4 cup granulated Sugar

2 eggs, room temperature

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

2 cups all-purpose flour

1&1/4 teaspoons baking soda

1&1/4 teaspoons salt

1/2 (heaping) cup malted milk powder

1 bag (12 ounces) milk chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 375.
Cream butter. Then add both sugars and cream until fluffy. Add eggs and beat slightly, then add vanilla and beat until combined. Add malted milk powder and beat until combined.
Mix together flour, baking soda and salt. (Supposedly we should be sifting these ingredients together, but I don’t sift. They turn out just fine. If they were any better, I might accidentally eat my hand along with the cookies.) Add this dry mixture to the butter mixture, beating gently until just combined.
Add chocolate chips and stir in gently.
Drop by teaspoonfuls and bake for 10 to 12 minutes. These cookies tend to spread so leave plenty of room in between them on the cookie sheet.

After they cool you can use two cookies to make an ice cream sandwich with a scoop of your favorite ice cream in between. Add sprinkles to the sides of the ice cream.

Or, just scarf them down with milk. That’s what I prefer.

Neighbor Jack Lowery declared these “the most delicious cookies I’ve ever eaten.” And Jack tells it like it is.

talya

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

You can take the girl out of Mississippi County, BUT…….

February 12, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

Look Who We Found
After the Game!

Yesterday was devoted to all things Baylor! The Tate girls crossed the Brazos at Waco for some smoking hot Lady Bear basketball. Brittney Griner is truly amazing – she should be the first woman Dallas Maverick – Dirk’s mini-me. She has already perfected his signature fade-away. And she does Barbara Tate’s famous hook shot from back in the day. The Aggies completely forgot to show up capping off a perfect day. It’s always a treat to beat an Aggie in any sport – basketball, football, golf or even a drinking game with the Aggie neighbors! Of course a trip to Baylor would be incomplete without a visit to traditional Waco hot spots.

First lunch at Poppa Rollo’s Pizza – “the best pizza on Earth”. The hamburger, onion and jalapeño pizza would be my death row meal – not that Texas allows a choice anymore. One prisoner recently ruined it for everyone. We chowed down on the perfect pizza while watching The Little Rascals – a Poppa Rollo’s tradition. We cleansed our palates with pre-game Big O’s from George’s – the best beer on Earth. Cold ginormous frosted glasses – 3 Big O’s for only $9!!! It was a virtual time warp. My mother looked positively petite beside her huge beer, but she managed to chug it down without a booster seat. Over at the smoky bar, I could envision my first ex-husband’s fraternity brother drinking down an entire bottle of ketchup (topped off with tabasco). He did it because he could. And we played many electronic bowling games at George’s. It was addictive. It’s a miracle on the Brazos that any of us graduated. It took ketchup boy a long time… Staci and I were rudely jolted back from our memory lane trip by the young cute boy-waiter who called us “Ma’am”. Hmmmmm. What? We aren’t Ma’ams! It was that hideous warty thing on my hand that was giving me away!!! I knew it! Staci was just guilty by association.

And of course – a quick trip inside the Baylor Bookstore was warranted to restock bear wear and face tattoos. My inventory was low. From there, a windy stroll across Waco Creek to the Bear Pit. Waco Creek runs through campus from Eighth Street to Fifth Street. It’s really a neat, semi-natural, Baylor feature although oftentimes it is algae-ridden. It was extra clean today, on this coldest day of winter so far. Naturally, the bears were hibernating – we saw them inside all toasty and piled up together. Baylor has the most adorable mascot of all. Really. You know it’s true. Followed by the lovable hog of course. I don’t even know what an Aggie is.

As I studied the creek, I was reminded of the NoZe Brothers – a Baylor secret society founded in the 1920s as a joke surrounding a certain freshman with a very large nose. His nose was so big a club was formed around it – impressive. They are an irreverent and disrespectful group – extremely popular at Baylor. They poke fun at the Baylor yearbook, newspaper, faculty, student organizations, city of Waco and especially the Southern Baptist Convention. Let’s face it, through the years the NoZe Bros have had no shortage of Baptist Baylor/Waco topics with which to take aim, such as David Koresh and his Davidians, that murdered basketball player, etc. And the Baptists practically ask for it.

The brotherhood’s pranks are legendary. Based on the seriousness of their underground activities combined with the lack of humor of the current administration, they have occasionally been completely banned from campus. Through the years, they have crashed events such as chapel, homecoming and “Sing”. Their pranks have included turning the fountain pink (pink is the signature NoZe color), decorating the Quadrangle with huge NoZe glasses, and disrupting chapel with a donkey and a 4,000 ping pong ball drop. And when the statute of honorable Judge Baylor is wrapped in toilet paper, everyone knowz the NoZe Bros are to blame. But no one knowz who they are.

It is forbidden for a NoZe Brother to reveal his identity to a non-member. The members are always disguised with large fake noses, beards, crazy hats, etc. Each semester, the brotherhood hosts UnRush for non-members to present themselves for possible membership. Acceptance is limited and membership requirements are crazy ridiculous. There are, however, a handful of honorary NoZe Brothers – which are called Ornery Brothers. Dan Rather was Brother CBS Evening NoZe, Billy Graham is Brother Cracker NoZe Graham, and Robert Griffin III is HeismaNoZe Trophy.

When I attended Baylor in the early ’80s, the NoZe Brotherhood was fairly active, semi- banned from campus, but not to be controlled. During my spring sophomore semester, everyone was buzzing about an upcoming NoZe Bros gathering, announced in their underground newspaper – The Rope – which poked fun at the official Baylor newspaper – The Lariat. It was great fun to get your hands on the NoZe prose. A meeting was planned at midnight at the creek- all students were welcome. My roommates and I were pumped – we secured a ‘front row seat’ on the concrete retaining wall. The creek was not very clean, with a few inches of water and leaves in the bottom. Quite a crowd had begun to gather, curious to see what the NoZe Brothers were up to now.

Just past midnight a glow appeared in the tunnel at the end of the creek which snaked underneath campus to the Brazos River. The NoZe Brothers were marching, carrying torches, and chanting something nonsensical. They looked eerily like the KKK walking through that tunnel deep below Baylor, in the dark night. As they approached us, they began their “program”, speaking primarily in NoZe code – blasting the administration for the ridiculous new ugly fountain. I had no idea what they were talking about for most of the “show” but they were absolutely hilarious. Who were these guys? I wonder if I knew any of them? Did I sit beside any of them in my classes?

Suddenly head NoZe Bro walked right up to me, grabbed my hand, and jerked me to my feet and into the creek. OMG were they kidnapping me? If I had to go inside that tunnel I would freak – I just knew there were Brazos River rats in there. They quickly wrapped a cape around my shoulders – like a velvet cape a queen would wear – and placed this big obnoxious crown on my head. I was embarrassed! Then king of the NoZe – I had no idea of his official title – paraded me through the wet creek and announced that I was Miss Middle Class White Trash America. Oh my! How did he know I was from Mississippi County? Really, it was hilarious. I made the most of it, glad no one could see my red face in the glow of the torches. I never came into direct contact with the NoZe Bros again, to my knowledge. Or maybe I married one? Who noZe? They are totally sworn to secrecy.

Later, while working at State Bank – an entirely different kind of brotherhood – we all had nicknames. Maybe it was a natural progression that came from working together so long. My nickname was The Snoot. BecauseIhaveSuchaBigNose. A very NoZe Brother-ish name. And I also wrote an underground bank newspaper – The Snoot Report – available to only a very few and primarily for my own entertainment. The NoZe Bros have always inspired me – since that night in the creek.

I tried to find The Rope yesterday but never saw one.. I bet the Bros are having a heyday with self-ordained Robert Jeffress, pastor of First Baptist Church Dallas. I’m sure Jeffress thinks the NoZe Brotherhood is a cult, along with those pesky Mormans. He provides no shortage of fodder, I’m certain. I wonder if the NoZe Bros need a blogger? I knowz the perfect candidate.

Sic ’em Bears!

The Snoot

Musical Pairings:

Louis Armstrong, “When the Saints Go Marching In”
Marty Robbins, “Cross the Brazos at Waco”
Jake Holmes, “Be a Pepper”

Couture for Big Dummies

February 11, 2012 By Talya Tate Boerner

I live 5 minutes from the Dallas Arts District. The district is a magnificent collection of venues designed by Pritzker Prize winning architects, with world class art collections, opera, musical performances and sculpture. People travel across the globe to this destination in downtown Dallas. I travel through it quite often on my way to watch the Dallas Mavericks play at the American Airlines Center. It’s an impressive cultural district. My favorite is the annual Dallas Symphony’s Christmas Spectacular. John and I also attended South Pacific at the Winspear Opera House. We chose this particular performance because a) it was not an opera, and, b) my dad allegedly named me after some Polynesian chick in the book South Pacific. I was curious to see if Talya would be included in the cast of characters. Not. I feel just a bit hipper knowing our home is so close to all this culture – in case we want to partake – which we rarely do. But, it’s good for re-sale. (I hope.)

Yesterday, my mother and I set off to soak up a bit of Dallas culture. Her friend, Carlos, a tour guide at the Dallas Museum of Art (DMA), invited us to attend the current exhibit – The Fashion World of Jean Paul Gaultier, From the Sidewalk to the Catwalk. The exhibit had received rave reviews and was ending soon, so we quickly jumped at the chance to attend. And, with our own tour guide! Prior to this invitation, I really had no desire to see this. I didn’t know much about Gaultier other than he designed those pointy conical boob corset rigs for Madonna during her 1990 Blonde Ambition World Tour.

I studied up for about five minutes before the tour. According to the DMA website, Gaultier is “unquestionably one of the most important fashion designers in recent decades…. draws inspiration from dance, pop-rock, cinema, television…..eclectic and vibrant sources of inspiration… over 140 haute couture dresses and ready-to-wear pieces made between the early 1970s and 2011.” Well that sounded pretty interesting! Maybe there would be Oscar dresses on display – like the first lady inaugural ball gowns at the Smithsonian? I loved that. So elegant and historical. My favorites were Mamie Eisenhower and Lady Bird Johnson. Hillary – not so much.

What to wear? I felt as if I had to pay particular attention to what I wore as I would be surrounded by high-class fashion. Well that thought was fleeting – I wore jeans, boots and a gray sweater – my typical uniform. It was haute enough for me. The first thing of note when we arrived was the lengthy line of cars waiting to park inside the DMA parking garage. Very strange for a Thursday morning I thought. Was Madonna actually going to be wearing that corset inside?

Making our way inside, the place was jammed packed! Wow. This was impressive! Obviously the economy is improving. Well attended artsy fartsy events are a very dependable good leading indicator. Waaaaay more reliable than the volatile stock market. The Nasdaq fluctuates based on Lloyd Blankfein’s lunch selection. Is someone without grocery money really going to spend twenty bucks to see high fashion, when you can see it for free down the street at Neiman Marcus? I think not. But, of course, Neimans does not have Madonna’s actual bustier, complete with sweat stains. My consumer outlook was becoming more positive.

I’m not much on fancy clothing. If I won an oscar I would probably be Sharon Stone-like in a black Gap sweater with maybe a long black taffeta skirt. Slenderizing. In junior high, Anita Ashley and I went to charm school. Our mothers thought this would be an excellent idea. It was on Saturdays for several weeks and the grand finale was a fashion show at a restaurant in Blytheville. We selected a few outfits from some little boutique in town and walked around throughout this restaurant, during lunch discussing our outfits. OMG! This was so outside my comfort zone… We were charged with simply walking up to tables of lunching ladies to interrupt their meals with, “Excuse me, I’m wearing a Hang Ten Tennis Dress with a silk scarf. My shoes are Tretorn.” Please, God, just let me die in my sleep before I make a fool of myself at the Blytheville fashion show!!! Well, I survived the ordeal, no more or less charming, but recognized I would never walk the catwalk, or be on any stage in any capacity. All those years performing for Daisy Mae were for naught.

Carlos gave us a a brief synopsis of the exhibit before we began, telling us that the mannequins would be speaking to us. He told us to be sure and listen to what they had to say. Hmmmm. Ok… The first room was the Odyssey, inspired by the sea and religion. Half of the mannequins looked like the evil Inferius who nearly grabbed Harry and Dumbledore while hunting for horcruxes. The others were wearing an odd assortment of sailor inspired navy and white/beige striped outfits – an evening gown on a dude, lots of topless outfits, cage dresses, feathers, toile. They were all horizontal stripes so immediately I knew Gaultier fashion would not be for the normal person. Normal people avoid horizontal stripes.

The mannequins were as freaky as anything I had ever seen. Very, very realistic – somehow a projection trick. They spoke and blinked and all had terrible teeth. The wax museum folks really needed to get on board with this technology. If I could get my hands on one of these when the exhibit breaks down next week, this would be the perfect addition to my Halloween decoration collection. Must discuss with Carlos…

The Boudoir room was a bit more interesting. Madonna’s corsets were on display along with gowns made of ribbons and satin, most designed to be worn naked underneath, leaving nothing to the imagination. I would have worn one of these, maybe, with a wife beater and tights. There was a lavender velvet pointy conical breasted evening gown that was interesting until I realized a man was wearing it.

The Skin Deep exhibit was designed to represent the red light district in Amsterdam. So there was bondage. And leather. And overall bizarro clothing. There was a mannequin in the corner having a conversation with himself, “Should I wear this or not? Is this appropriate, etc.” Well, I could save him some time – hell NO. It was a dress! Carlos explained to us that Gaultier pushed the limits, challenging societal ways with humor. There were body suits that were actually designed to look like a naked body. So why even bother? Just go naked – be a streaker. Gaultier “clothed nudity with nudity.” My mother just stared at Carlos with her mouth open. When Carlos asked, “Does that make sense?” she blurted out, “NO!” I laughed out loud at my mom, but quickly composed myself. I must hang on. No laughing. It would be like laughing at Graceland. It just was not done. I looked around at all the hundreds of visitors. Did they really get this? I was having a difficult time making the stretch from Gaultier high fashion designs to Gaultier inspired t-shirts at my favorite Target.

Punk Cancan was the best exhibit in my opinion. There was a catwalk in the center with moving mannequins dressed in evening wear and more traditional clothing – traditional for Gaultier. If I squinted, there were a couple of dresses I could see wearing to Kelsey’s inaugural ball. Maybe. On either side of the catwalk were punk mannequins making fun of the fancy cat walkers. With the exception of the mannequin wearing a hefty bag, tin can bracelet and a steel wool soap pad around his neck, these outfits were the best – they included three camouflage ensembles. I had never been so happy to see camo. I felt like cheering.

The final exhibits included items inspired by outer space (weren’t they all?) and cultures and the environment. By this point, I had checked out. I was becoming a bit delirious. It was couture overload. Especially for me. I was really trying to take it all in, understand it, think outside the planet. My head hurt. I was hungry. There was a body suit on one mannequin in this area with a picture of Jason Kidd in the center. It was supposedly Gaultier but I knew it was really Jason Kidd. I wonder if Jason knew? I doubt any of the Mavs had set foot in this exhibit on their way to practice.

In all seriousness, Carlos was an excellent tour guide – very knowledgeable. I cannot imagine seeing the exhibit without someone to explain away the overall strangeness. To recap:

The Dallas economy is on the upswing
No need to waste one more thought on your wardrobe. There are no rules. Anything goes.

Afterward, we lunched at The Screen Door which was fantastic. After all that haute couture, I needed to see a normal, everyday screen door – with peeling paint. It was true art.

Thanks Carlos!

talya

(and the BAT)