IPA-flavored peanut brittle

IPA peanut brittle with Full Pint Chinookie. (Scott Beveridge photo)

By Scott Beveridge

As someone who loves peanut brittle, I prefer it to be chock-full of peanuts.

And, as an India Pale Ale beer snob, I was immediately attracted to brief in a magazine about a beer brittle sold by Sugar Knife, a small batch artisan candy company that blends whiskey and beer into its concoctions.

Then I bought some of its Stout Daddy peanut brittle and liked it, a lot, but concluded it was too expensive for my taste.

So I turned to Google, found a similar recipe at The Homebrew Chef website, tweaked it a bit in my kitchen and came away with some awesome candy.

Homebrew calls for a hoppy IPA.

The Chinookie label brewed by Full Pint Brewery in North Versailles, Pa., is my favorite local hoppy IPA, and that is my choice for this brittle. It's sold across Pennsylvania and in Ohio and Florida. Today, every craft brewer seems to have an IPA so you shouldn't have any difficulty finding something hoppy to your liking to use as a substitute.

Ingredients

1 1/2 Cups Planters Cocktail peanuts, shaken around in a colander to remove excess salt and peels. 
2 Cups Sugar
1/2 Cup IPA
1/2 tsp Kosher sea salt
1/2 Cup unsalted butter

Directions,

Lightly grease a nonstick baking sheet and set aside.

Roast peanuts on a different baking sheet in a 350 degree oven for about 10 minutes and set aside.

In a large saucepan, combine sugar, salt, butter and IPA and heat on a low flame until the sugar is completely dissolved, stirring often with a whisk.

Raise heat to medium low, insert a candy thermometer into the liquid and boil to hard crack stage (300-310 degrees) Remove from heat, stir in peanuts and pour onto greased baking sheet. Cool to room temperature, crack into pieces and store in an air tight container to prevent brittle from becoming sticky.

Yields 2 pounds of brittle

Creating a holiday tradition with Scottish shortbread

Scottish shortbread from my kitchen

By Scott Beveridge

There wasn’t much time for creating holiday food traditions in our working-class family while I was growing up in the 1960s in the Monongahela River Valley in Pennsylvania.

The daily routine for my parents centered more on how to pay the bills and put dinner on the table rather than ensuring Christmas dining traditions were created or those of our ancestor were honored.

My mother worked full time when most women she knew at the time were 1950s versions of stay-at-home moms. Truth be told, she didn’t like to cook, either, and strived to be a modern woman of her era.

It was time about a decade ago that I decided to create some holiday traditions in my house, and that led me to bake shortbreads. My mom loved this cookie. So I turned to a friend Mary to teach me how to bake cookies. This one only contains five ingredients and it's not that difficult to pull off.

Shortbread is a holiday tradition associated with Christmas in Scotland, and I love its simple, buttery flavor. This shortbread recipe isn't much different than any others that can be found online or in your grandmother's kitchen.

Ingredients:

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon salt

Whisk salt into flour and set aside. In another bowl, mix the butter until creamy, add the sugar and beat until smooth; add vanilla. Slowly fold in the flour, shape the dough into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap and chill in the refrigerator for at least an hour.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Roll out dough on a lightly floured surface until it’s about 1/4-inch thick. Use cookie cutters to create shapes and place on cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake 8 to 10 minutes, until the cookies turn golden brown around the edges. Cool on wire rack.

This story first appeared in Living Washington County magazine published by the Observer-Reporter.

Have a raw mushroom with that earthy glass of beer

Munchies served at beer tastings at Beaver Brewing Co. (Scott Beveridge photo)

By Scott Beveridge

BEAVER FALLS, Pa. – The food on sample platters spread across the bar at this craft beer brewery include pepperoni, fine cheese, almonds, raw mushrooms, raspberries and one piece of a KitKat chocolate bar.

The munchies have been selected by Dan Woodske, owner of Beaver Brewing Co., who is about to teach four students in his Beaver Falls, Pa., taproom on a chilly October evening how to host his version of a perfect beer and food pairing party at home.

"If you are having a beer tasting at home you (will) know what styles go with each," said Woodske, who offers these classes for $26 per student through the Community College of Beaver County.

"It's a cheap and easy way to entertain a bunch of people at home," he said as he drops a slice of orange on everyone's platter.

And, then everyone fails the first question when he asks what food we would pick to sample with our short glasses of Dogfish Head Punkin Ale, a pumpkin-flavored beer people go wild for as every autumn turns its corner.

I suggest an almond, while others poke around their platters also making the wrong picks.

Most pumpkin beers contain lactose, Woodske said.

"What do you put on top of a pumpkin pie?" he said, before everyone correctly answers, "Whipped cream."

"I think what actually goes good with it is a donut. It actually works."

He's right. A bite of a super sweet, chocolate-covered cream-filled donut actually makes this beer taste better.

Meanwhile, Woodske brews a fine India Porter Ale, which is made from earthy hops, and he pours everyone a sample of it from the tap.

"That's a really earthy beer," he said, suggesting we try it with a mushroom.

It seems to be an odd combination of texture and liquid, yet the flavors surprisingly work together.

There you have a couple samples of his version of this party.

I especially like his Smoky the Beaver lager because it doesn't have an overly smoked flavor. He pairs it with delicious slices of Muenster cheese, while I eagerly anticipate learning which beer we will be eating with chocolate.

The secrets to making these tastings work are knowing the beer, what flavors go into it, and then matching those ingredients to food.

For the beginner, it will take some research on the different beers to select for such a party and some addition thought and experimentation to pair them with the appropriate menu items at home.

Woodske only sells his beer from his brewpub at 1820 Seventh Ave., which is open from 4 to 10 p.m. Thursday through Saturday. He's the only craft brewer within a 45-minute drive in any direction from Beaver Falls. 

Dan Woodske, owner of Beaver Brewing Co. (Scott Beveridge photo)

Smile, these rubber duckies could be yours someday

A family-type reunion photograph of rubber ducks that keep arriving at my house and desk at work. (Scott Beveridge photo)

By Scott Beveridge

People keep asking me why I'm obsessed with the overabundance of rubber duckies that keep piling up around my house and desk at work.

The simple answer is, I'm not any more of a fan of this bathtub toy than anyone else with a fondness for silliness.

I'm just blessed with great friends who like to give me things that make us smile.

And, the duck does that with little or no effort of its own.

This duck thing in my life started after I purchased three of my newsroom colleagues at the Observer-Reporter little rubber ducks dressed as Santa Claus about six years ago just because the gifts were cute and cheap.

Later, I added a few more of the rubber waterbirds to my personal collection and parked them, appropriately, atop the tank to the toilet in my bathroom and posted a photo of the display on Facebook.

The Brett Favre duck

Somewhere along the line a friend, Amanda Gillooly of Pittsburgh, began to purchase me miniature duckies from bubblegum-type machines, including one pretending to be former NFL quarterback Brett Lorenzo Favre and bearing his jersey No. 4 on its breast.

She gave it to me over beers with other friends. Fellow journalist Mike Jones drowned the quacky little Favre in one of several beers on our table and he snapped a photo of it, which ended up on Facebook, too, and probably on Twitter, as well.

The lesson learned here is, be careful of what one shares on social media because those two photos soon unleashed an avalanche of rubber duckies in my direction.

For my birthday this year, I returned home to find my house had been rubber-ducked in my absence by other great friends, Susan Meadway and her sister, Marilyn Bradley. They had been stocking up every rubber duck they could find over the past year at thrift shops to carry out the hilarious prank.

By then, I learned the rubber duck is sold in more shapes and forms than I had ever imagined, ranging from sheep to psychedelic peace-loving hippies.

So there you have it.

It's not about the duck, but everything about the great fortune of havin friendships with those who don't mind behaving once in awhile like kids with big fat smiles on their faces.

And, just so you know, my hefty bag of these things is one day going to be regifted when it's least expected.    

Seeking baking chaperone to make an apple pie

“But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.” 

― Stephen King

By Amanda Gillooly

It's officially the second full day of fall, and I already have one item crossed off my seasonal bucket list.

Yes, I have a seasonal bucket list.

It's like, a smaller bucket.

Like so many others, I have the Big Bucket List (visit Ireland, win a Pulitzer, earn a law degree). But sometimes that list can get a little lofty.

Yes, it's prudent to work toward accomplishing big goals. “Go big or go home”-- I get it.

But I also have found that when I'm chasing something big, I hurry through a lot of the details.

And that's where the really good stuff is.

They say 'tis the season for a reason, friends.

Fall is a season of apple cider, zombie movies (or AMC television shows, whatev) and all things pumpkin. It's a season brightened by a tapestry of wildly colored leaves and copious amounts of football (and this year, baseball. Go Bucs!).

There's so much to dig, I made my own Little Bucket List: Fall Edition.

Among the items on the list? Bake an apple pie from scratch, visit this interactive zombie hayride thing my friend told me about the other day, and do stuff with pumpkin.

Gillooly's jack-o'-lantern

On the first full day of autumn, I created stuff with a pumpkin.

After purchasing a nifty carving set from Target, I went to work on the pumpkin, saving the pulp and the seeds (the large gourd I bought—between 14 and 16 pounds-- yielded about a cup).

Since, to me, fall is also the season of cinnamon, I looked for a sweet recipe for roasting pumpkin seeds instead of a savory one.

I found what I wanted at allrecipes.com—and part of its charm was its simplicity (hey, I don't even PRETEND to be handy in the kitchen).

Here's what I did:

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. Rinse off the pumpkin seeds, dry, and set them aside in a little bowl.
3. Get ¼ cup sugar (I used Splenda, though, and it turned out perfect) and ½ tablespoon of cinnamon and mix in a small bow.
4. Melt one tablespoon of butter
5. Pour the butter into the bowl with your seeds
6. Pour the seeds onto a baking sheet (you can use parchment paper to line it, if you have it. I didn't and they turned out fine). Make sure they are single-file style: Just one thin layer.
7. Sprinkle the sugar mix over the seeds and mix them around on the pan so they get an even-ish coating. Bake for 5 minutes.
8. When the time chimes, take those bad boys out and sprinkle again (and give them a little stir) and return to the over for five more minutes.
9. And then you repeat step 8.
10. And then you repeat step 9.
11. And then you repeat step 10.
12. Then you take them out, put the remaining amount of sugar mix and returning to the over for 10 more minutes.
13. Take out. Let cool.

The roasted pumpkin seeds

While I know that there are myriad recipes for delectable pumpkin cookies and cakes, it is well known among those who are my friends that it's not really advisable to allow me to do much serious baking unsupervised (looking for an Apple Pie Baking Chaperone).

So after a little research, I discovered that raw pumpkin is an awesome beauty aid.

Pumpkin facial mask

Instead of doing a mud mask (with the tube of stuff I bought for like, $15), I did one with pumpkin as the base.

This recipe for a DYI facial went like this:

1. Take your pumpkin and puree it. Put ¼ cup of it in a little bowl. Refrigerate the rest.
2. Add an egg to your bowl of pumpkin, and whisk.
3. Add a splash of milk (supposedly the lactic acid in the milk helps with exfoliation), and whisk again.
4. If your skin tends to be dry, add a little honey to the mix. If your skin tends to be oily, add a splash of cranberry juice. Whisk.
5. Slather the mixture on your face, avoiding the eyes (obvi). Let is stand for 20 minutes. Rinse.
6. Feel gorgeous.

Next on my list to conquer? That apple pie. And I wasn't kidding about needing a chaperone.

Writer passes down her grandmother's love of printed words

John Irving's "The World According to Garp" was a life-changer for this Pittsburgh-area journalist.

“Books are uniquely portable magic.” - Stephen King

By Amanda Gillooly

My grandmother was particularly proud of her vocabulary.

She often said that while her Depression-era childhood didn't afford her an opportunity to even finish grade school, those circumstances never stopped her from getting an education.

Peg Crowe cuddles Amanda Gillooly

No, Peg Crowe was a lifelong learner – and her teacher of choice was literature.

Gram was the type of woman who kept a Woman's Day magazine on the dining room table and a Louis L'Amour book on her bed stand.

She was never, it seemed, without a book.

“There's always something to learn,” she would tell me. “Read. Read anything.”

Although she never forgot a birthday or holiday, the best gift she ever gave me was a love for reading.

I received the gift of sorts when she found out that my second-grade teacher had placed me in a remedial reading course.

After that, it was on.

Trips to the grocery store became scavenger hunts for words on labels.

I will always remember the Kmart in Moon Township as the first book store I came to know – every weekend she would pick up a L'Amour book and allow me to pick out one to read as well.

And for an hour each night before bed on the weekends we would read.

By the second half of the year, I was no longer a sub-par reader and had been placed in a class with other kids with “normal” skills.

By the time I was in third grade, I was in the advanced reading class.

I eventually grew out of the R.L. Stine and Christopher Pike novels and moved my way into more adult books.

“The Long Walk” by Richard Bauchman and “The World According to Garp” by John Irving were life-changing experiences for me – and were a form of solace during pre-teen years living with a troubled parent in rundown, roach-infested apartments.

To this day I pack too many books on vacation, I have too many piled on my coffee table and I admit I push especially good reads on anyone who isn't familiar with them.

There are several books (think “A Prayer for Owen Meany” and “Different Seasons”) that I seek out in used book stores just so I can give them away to friends who have never read them.

Alas: I've become a book pusher, just like my grandmother.

Just ask my nephew, Nicholas.

At almost 10, he likes to describe himself as a “gamer.”

Hopefully, by the time I'm done with him, he'll change that to “reader.”

Nicholas is in third grade—and much smarter than I ever hoped to be at that age.

His reading and comprehension are just fine (there's nothing remedial about Nicholas), but it bugs the hell out of me that he thinks of reading as a chore, as something you do when you CAN'T play video games.

I want him to seek books out. I want him to have the experience of waiting in anticipation for his favorite author's new book release, and know how it feels to finally check out the cover art on the way home from the store.

At 33, I still do that (In fact, tomorrow marks the release date for Stephen King's new novel, “Dr. Sleep” (a sequel of sorts to “The Shining”).

I am happy to say that Nicholas is getting there.

A few weeks ago, I needed to stop at the venerable Kmart to see if the book section had the second installment of a popular new series I am pretty much addicted to.

While I scanned the titles, I noticed Nicholas pick up a book nearby and read the blurb on the back.

Within a few minutes, he walked up to me and said, “Aunt Mandy, look, they have that book you were telling me about, 'The Lightening Thief.'”

I know a chance when I see one, and I know better than to let one pass me by.

So I said:

“Cool! Here, I'll buy it for you. After you're done reading it, you can give it to me and I will read it, too. Then I will buy you the second one.”

When I visited yesterday, he told me he was more than halfway done with the books.

And he likes it.

Peg Crowe would be proud.

Amanda Gillooly is a Pittsburgh-area freelance writer. The former editor of the Canon-McMillan Patch, Gillooly has also worked as a reporter with the Observer-Reporter, the Beaver County Times, the Valley Independent and the Innocence Institute of Point Park University. Her work has also been seen in the Tribune Review and the Pittsburgh Post Gazette.