Mr. Doodle's Dog

Too cheesy for comfort? Never!

Sweeney and Dash sample some macaroni and cheese. Photo by a salivating Joe the Cat

You think hand puppet journalism is easy?
Think again.
Not only do we have to meet all the requirements of a "journalist" (writing, accuracy, vowels, penury, professional and corporate ethics(!)) we are first and foremost, hand puppets.
You think typing with these paws is easy?
These are tough times for journalists. Although we are fortunate enough to work in the benevolent and forward-thinking online offices of Mr. Doodle's Dog, not all journalists are so lucky.
If we owned a car, or knew how to drive one, or could reach both the steering wheel and pedals at the same time, we could place political bumper stickers on that car. You would know where we stood, if we could stand, because our bumper stickers would tip you off to our choices. At least, that's true where we work ... many other journalists risk sanction if they use bumper stickers to convey their religious or political leanings, yet they may announce that their children are geniuses. Unaware of that, were you? It's true.

Hand puppets are such a small faction in the worldwide journalism crowd. We're lucky in that we are officially classified as "cute" and "adorable" and yet not lumped in with the talking heads television anchor crowd. Not much is expected of us beyond "Lambchop."
Yes, we can spell and string sentences together with a view to telling a story. It's a job requirement at Mr. Doodle's Dog. We can jump out of backpacks, cameras in hand, and charm newsmakers, hangers-on and pole dancers, and generally conceal our IQs beneath tufts of mohair, but we are still journalists, and that means we work for a troubled industry.

That's what everyone says, so it must be true.

Working on that premise, we wire fox terrier hand puppets decided to make a batch of macaroni and cheese for an untroubled holiday weekend. We're painting and reading about Virginia Woolf, so of course macaroni and cheese came to mind.

The creamy solace of homemade macaroni and cheese ... nothing rivals it but mashed potatoes. We are not talking out-of-the-box, orange or white preserved goo over limp elbow pasta, no. We're talking Macaroni and Cheese for Hand Puppets, with a recipe right out of Martha Hall Foose's "Screen Doors and Sweet Tea."

Please be advised that this recipe calls for garlic, and that can be tricky for some dogs. Hand puppet journalists, on the other hand, can eat all the garlic they want... we'll still be cute and no one will say a thing about our breath.

Also be advised, if you are accustomed to elbow macaroni, that this calls for fusilli pasta. Or should that be "Seinfeld" pasta? Or, more accurately, since we are journalists, maybe it should be called "David" pasta, since Larry David is the genius behind Seinfeld.

Maybe there's a bumper sticker for that.

Time to seek some comfort.

A Generous Helping

Sweeney, Tom Cat-Jones and Dash mix it up with some fresh Georgia peaches. Photo by Joe the Cat

Bubble, Bubble, It's No Trouble

The following is a verbatim account of the conversation earlier this afternoon among Sweeney, Tom Cat-Jones and Dash. The subject? It was free-ranging.
Sweeney: We have fresh Georgia peaches, just brought in from the Georgia/Florida border, and a request: peach pie.
Dash: What's going on? Gimlet and Sam made a batch of Katharine Hepburn's brownies the other day, and then Doggie Dad made another batch. It's August in Florida. There are limits...
Sweeney: Paul Newman.
Tom Cat-Jones: Understood.
Dash: What?
Sweeney: Paul. He's married to Joanne Woodward, and she's from Thomasville, Georgia. That's where the peaches came from.
Tom Cat-Jones: Gotcha. No limits. The man knows no limits.
Sweeney: Tennessee Williams.
Tom Cat-Jones: Cats on hot, tin roofs.

Dash: Libation. Peach brandy. Booze.

Sweeney: Stir the eight skinned peaches, thinly sliced, and the cup of sugar with the five tablespoons of  quick tapioca and the tablespoon freshly grated nutmeg. It has to be a tablespoon, mind you. Then squeeze in a lemon and maybe two tablespoons of blueberry vinegar. I suppose you could use raspberry, which would bring it closer to a peach melbalike taste. Don't forget the tablespoon of cold, unsalted butter, cut into bits.

Tom Cat-Jones: You're pouring that in a pie crust? This is a double-crust, deep-dish pie, I hope.

Sweeney: It is. It's a no-holds-barred peach pie. It's a pie that Hud would appreciate.

Dash: It's a cool pie.

Sweeney: It's cool because we're buying the pie crust (thank you, Dough Boy) and saving ourselves a lot of trouble ...

Tom Cat-Jones: ... which is Hud's middle name.

Sweeney: Yes. Put all that in a bowl, as we've done, mix, and pour into that pie crust. Cover said pie with remaining crust.

Dash: How about some egg wash for that? And think of something special for any raw pie crust you've trimmed. Paul would like that.

Sweeney: Something special for Paul, then.

Tom Cat-Jones: Place on a parchment-covered baking sheet ... Pop into that pre-heated, as hot as Paul Newman oven.

Dash: That would be 425 degrees, for 10 minutes. After that, lower to 375 and bake for 40 to 50 minutes.
Sweeney: He's hot and cool at the same time. And full of morals. An anomaly.

Tom Cat-Jones: Far, far, cooler than Jack Nicholson.

Dash: Oh, out of his orbit. Far cooler.

Sweeney: This brings us to ... Paul and dogs.

Dash: He's owned wire fox terriers. Perfect breed for him. Not that anyone "owns" a wire fox terrier, but if they could be owned, he'd be the one to own them.

Tom Cat-Jones: I love pie, as long as it's not cat pie.

Sweeney: This is a peach pie, made by two dogs and a cat, and inspired by Paul Newman. It doesn't get better than that.

Chorus: Here's to you, Paul!

Bringing Up Brownies

Illustration by Gimlet Rose

Chewy. Chocolate. Icons.

My first conumdrum: where does the top billing go? To the legendary actress, or the dessert?

You see who I favored. Not only do we share a wire fox terrier connection (George, aka Skippy, in "Bringing Up Baby") but I am friends with a certain Miss Hepburn-Davis. The brownies get second billing. That's not bad, because so did Cary Grant.

Saveur arrives in the mail, and what nabs my attention but a treatise on my favorite dessert: "Brownie Points" by Dana Bowen. It's a short (and sweet) article on history, methods and chocolate. It all always comes down to chocolate.

She bakes and bakes one batch of brownies after another, each wonderful in their own right. Eventually, she settles on three recipes that are oo-la-la.

I pounce on "Katharine Hepburn's Brownies" for the above-cited reasons, but also because of the ease of the recipe. I am a wee white dog, after all.

But, I also know that Katharine Hepburn had a brother who lived with her, and he was a bit of an eccentric. He devoted much of his time developing the perfect chocolate sauce. I'm envisioning lots of quality chocolate around their house...

I splurged and used Scharffen Berger unsweetened chocolate for this recipe. Maybe it's not a splurge, but a good investment. A cheap luxury makes no sense.

What happened in the kitchen?

I pull up a chair and set my ingredients out within easy reach. You just see one small bowl for the beaten eggs, but no large mixing bowl. That's because Katharine Hepburn didn't use one for this recipe.

I'm enjoying this... I'm substituting fresh Georgia pecans for the walnuts.

 

Let's throw it all in the pot and see what happens.

We wait. They bake at 325F for 40 to 45 minutes.

 

Sam came in to keep me company.

 

A pot of brownies? Must be a neat rainbow. We'll clean that later...

Hmmm. Interesting. They've come out of the oven and have cooled a while... they're flat. Dense. Concentrated.

Paging Miss Hepburn!

 

No, I didn't eat the brownies. My doggie dad came into the kitchen to help me clean up.

I'm told the brownies were delicious, by the way.

They're sinfully easy to make. You should try them.

Katharine Hepburn's Brownies

8 tbsp. unsalted butter, plus more for greasing

2 oz. unsweetened chocolate

1 cup sugar

2 eggs, beaten

1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

1 cup roughly chopped walnuts (I used pecans)

1/4 cup flour

1/4 tsp. fine salt

1. Heat oven to 325F. Grease an 8"X8" baking pan with butter. Line the pan with parchment paper; grease the paper. Set the pan aside.

2. Melt the butter and the chocolate together in a 2-quart saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon. Remove the pan from heat and stir in the sugar. Add the eggs and vanilla and stir to make a smooth batter. Add the walnuts (pecans), flour, and salt; stir until incorporated. Pour the batter into the baking pan and spread evenly. Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 40 to 45 minutes. Let cool on a rack. Cut and serve.

The Fox and the Chowhound

Time to Dish, sez Fox Populi

Meet Fox Populi, resident lyricist and muckraker. He'll be vlogging, too, when our request is approved for his video equipment.

For those who think Fox is the natural enemy of the wire fox terrier, you may be surprised to learn that Fox is our resident baker. He does enjoy dabbling in chocolate, though. Dogs are not supposed to partake of vast amounts of chocolate, and some dogs can't handle any chocolate at all. Moderation in all things, we say, along with wisdom.

We are wise to have a Fox on the payroll who enjoys the art of baking, just as we are wise to be friendly with Chef Jeff at SideSalad. Of the human persuasion, Jeff is generous in sharing the cookbooks that come across his desk. He's a food writer and blogger, among other things.

So when Jeff loaned us "Chocolate Epiphany" we knew Fox Populi would find a chocolate delight to pique his interest.

He did.

Fox Populi makes his debut on Mr. Doodles Dog, not with a muckraking expose or vlog, but with his rendition of a sweetly simple snack, Charlie's Afternoon Chocolate Cake (in three acts)...

The chocolate and the butter melted (confession: I used Ghiradelli chocolate chips and melted both that and the butter in the microwave), I whisk the eggs and sugar.

It's messy, but it's the chocolate batter, all ready to pour into the pan.

Ah, warm chocolate cake, resting and cooling on the counter. The wonderful aroma of chocolate fudge ruffles my fur. What sweet wonders await me.

(from "Chocolate Epiphany" by Francois Payard with Anne E. McBride)

Charlie's Afternoon Chocolate Cake

Vegetable cooking spray, for the 9-inch pan

All-purpose flour for the pan

10 tablespoons (5 ounces; 150 grams) unsalted butter

8 ounces (250 grams) 60% chocolate, chopped

2 large eggs

2/3 cup (125 grams) sugar

3/4 cup (75 grams) all-purpose flour

Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray the sides and bottom of a round 9-inch cake pan with vegetable cooking spray. Dust it with flour, shaking off excess, and set aside.

Bring the butter to a boil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Stir a couple of times to prevent it from burning. Remove from the heat and add the chocolate to the pan. Stir the mixture until the chocolate is melted and smooth.

Whisk together the eggs and sugar in a large bowl until well combined. Add the flour and mix well. Add the chocolate to the batter and stir until the mixture is just combined. Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan.

Bake for 15 minutes, then lower the heat to 300 degrees F and bake for an additional 8 minutes. Remove the cake from the oven and allow it to cool completely in the pan. Unmold, and serve.

Dig in.

This is one gorgeous cookbook, chocolate baking on a high plane ... If you're devoted to chocolate and are willing to spend some time with your chocolate studies, then this may be a book for you. This cake is probably the most leisurely recipe in the book.

Running for the Mayor of Pietown

Oh, yes, we deliver!

Photo of Gimlet in the kitchen by Joe the Cat.

The other night we had an urge for pizza. Not a frozen, or Greek, or even a wonderful Jets pizza .. No, we wanted to make our own pizza.

No small task when you can't reach the counter, except by chair.

Joe the Cat put on one of his hats, ran up to the grocery store, walked right through the front doors and proceeded to cram his canvas tote bag (he's an eco-cat, is Joe) with our list. We were making the crust, so we needed yeast. He added pepperoni, provolone and a bag of grated Italian cheeses (we cheated a little), sliced mushrooms (we cheated a little more) and a jar of Mr. Paul Newman's Sockarooni sauce. Using anything made by Paul Newman is not cheating; it's a wise chef and pizza maker who knows to buy the right sauce.

You simply cannot do better than Paul Sauce, not for the price and the cause.

By the time Joe arrived home (he made good time. It's a two-mile round-trip) with his purchases, we were ready. We pushed a chair into the kitchen, got out the wooden rolling pin and the English mixing bowl and prepared to make pizza.

As you can see, the dough proved no problem. It's a recipe we've used for quite a long time, and it makes a sweet pizza dough. Was it fun to roll the dough on the counter? Yes. If you do nothing else, try walking on fresh pizza dough. It feels great on the paws and it stretches the dough just right.

Once we had the dough in the pan, we slathered on the Paul Sauce. Joe likes the sauce.

Then came the mushrooms and all the cheeses. Grated cheese and provolone slices went everywhere and then Joe volunteered to clean the floor. He's very accommodating that way. Bring out the pepperoni slices and we all go into a deep trance, but we resisted every impulse and not a bit of pepperoni was eaten. It all went on the pie.

Next, it was time for more cheese, just to gild the pepperoni. Oh, yes, you must gild, and gild properly. A trifle more gilding came by way of olive oil .. olive oil all around the crust.

We were finished with the building of the pie.

Was it a Colossus? No. It was a magnificent, sweet, pizza pie, and it was preparing to keep its appointment with destiny. Into the oven it went.

And forty minutes later, at 350 degrees (which warmed up the kitchen considerably) out it came:

It was a perfect mixture of sweet crust with peppery sauce and mellow cheeses. Not bad work for two little dogs and a cat. You can see Joe's orange Crocs in the photo. He fashions himself a Mario Batali.

Sam was the first one to line up for the pizza, and the first one to finish his slice. Joe had a small sample and then ran off to mix Mojitos. He's on another cocktail kick.

All in all, it was an excellent evening.

Won't You Take Me To Funghi Town

They do like to carry on ...

Sherpa graphic by Gimlet Rose. Digital, 2008.

You're seeing Sherpas.

As our food critic, Orson Owelles, wrote previously, Tampa has a fresh pair of food writers, The Culinary Sherpas. They're Greg and Michelle Baker, partners in cookery and personal chef service Cooks & Company in Tampa. They began writing a weekly column for a nearbylargemetropolitandaily in March, and naturally they blog. Well, it comes naturally to them, anyway. We enjoy their writing so much that we recently asked them if we could link to their blog.

They said yes! They not only wouldn't mind being linked to a dog blog (not everyone is so diverse in their outlook) but they offered to link to us. Incredible, amazing and altogether unexpected, is what it was.

Or maybe they like our red couch?

We are now linked like fresh Georgia sausages.

You will find  The Culinary Sherpas on the left-hand side, under "Bloggers With Fingers." Doodlespeak for humans. We have some other fingery bloggers listed there, too ... there's Jeff the Chef at SideSalad, Dave of the Daily (or so he claims) and Sarah, who likes to say things.

We predict you'll enjoy the Sherpas. Think of them as TastyKakes, a little bit unpredictable, a lotta tart. Lemon Krimpets are all the rage, you know. Indulge. Enjoy. Take a walk with your dog, learn to love hand puppets.

Sherpas, when you read this, we have a request: can you come up with a tasty recipe to please us dogs? How's your dog cuisine IQ? There are some cookbooks listed under "Alton Brown Alley," lower left-hand side. No need for us to constantly beg at tableside, is there?