We're-Out-of-Food Soup and Pillsbury Got Something Right.

So, in the week preceding the move to a different state (where there are hopefully more jobs, especially given the fact that something like 400 people were rendered jobless in this area because of tropical storm Irene), I've been lamenting my food situation. For the last time, I hope.
Having been without power for a few days, I got a chance to do a lot of stove-top cooking. There were some seriously messed up fajitas (I went crazy with the rooster sauce), some aaaawesome applesauce (best eaten warm), and this:
Carolyn and I had been talking about making a chicken soup for a long time, but couldn't agree whether to have noodles or not, and whether or not potatoes should be included. Ultimately we decided to use penne (which, as it turns out, are the perfect noodles for soup), and no potatoes. The potatoes were lamentably mushy. As experimental as this was, I feel that it turned out wonderfully.

Power Outage Chicken Soup
Serves ~8 (we managed to get three meals each out of this, but they were big bowls)

2 chicken breasts, thawed (in the brief time that you DO have power) and cut into small pieces
2 onions, diced
4 stalks celery, halved and diced
4 carrots, sliced into disks
1 box chicken broth (its SUPPOSED to smell like dragon farts, I've been told)
1 cup water
1 1/2 cups dry penne
oregano
basil
black pepper
butter

Directions:
1. Stomp around angrily wondering what the hell to eat.
2. Decide you're going to make chicken soup. With noodles. And utter kickassness (shut up, it's a word). Dice veggies and chicken!
3. Melt butter in the bottom of a sauce pan, adding chicken bits and stirring occasionally to cook about 3/4 of the way through.
4. Add onions and allow it to sweat for a few minutes before adding broth and water.
5. Add carrots and celery and herbify as desired. (I opted for 2 parts basil, 1 part oregano, and 1/3 part black pepper.)
6. As carrots soften slightly (I don't mean mushy here. I just mean not raw), add noodles.
7. Stir occasionally until noodles are fully cooked and remove from heat immediately.

As odd as this may seem (and I'm sure others have noticed this too), this soup is waaaay more awesome when it's been refrigerated for a few hours. It's sweet, and subtle, and mild. It isn't at all pretentious or overly bold (like beef stew, which I feel should ALWAYS punch you in the face like an angry Irishman), it's just right for a quiet day when the whole world seems like its about to drown. And don't worry about having extra broth, the noodles will drink it up and then you'll worry about having too little liquid.

Okay, so. Power comes back on after that, doing the infamous on and off thing, just as I become confident that it will stay on. Eventually it does actually stay on, so we opt to bake (because we made mom buy butter... because we wanted to bake).
This recipe is from an old Pillsbury cookbook that belong to my grandmother. As much as I hate Pillsbury's products CURRENTLY, I adore this cookbook, and it gets a lot of action in general baking in this house. I'm pretty sure my mom has made these cookies before, but we hadn't had them since, and I wanted cookies.
They're pretty damn glorious, by the way.
By this point, things seemed fine at home, and I had no idea what the rest of the state looked like aside from rumors from mom, and videos she showed us on her iPhone (via Facebook). So cookies felt like a big victory dance. Yeah. Victory didn't last long.

Pillsbury Drop Butter Cookies (pg. 157)
Makes 45-48 cookies

1 cup sugar or firmly packed brown sugar
3/4 cup butter, softened (Ignore them when they say margarine.)
1/4 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla (I did almost double this, and it was AWESOME)
1 egg
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt

Directions: (verbatim)
Heat oven to 375°F. In large bowl, combine first 5 ingredients; blend well. Stir in remaining ingredients; blend well. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls, 1 inch apart onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake at 375°F for 9 to 12 minutes or until lightly browned. Immediately remove from cookie sheet.

Okay, so there are just a few problems with this. Firstly, these are delicate cookies, and there is a very fine line between perfect and overdone. My recommendation is to cook these cookies for about 10 minutes on a rack placed in the center of the oven. Also, don't worry too much about the size of the drops you put on the cookie sheet (or in my case, parchment paper), they don't spread out much. If you make them too big they won't cook nicely.
Anyway, here is what I got:Light, fluffy, golden brown bundles of buttery joy. My little sister described them as "sugar cookies, just better." I disagree, as they are distinctly buttery (though I'd say not buttery enough to be called a butter cookie. Shortbread is buttery enough to be called a butter cookie.) with lovely hints of vanilla.
This recipe has a lot of potential for modification. For instance, I adore rosemary shortbread cookies, but I'm not fond of hard cookies. I do like my cookies to be fluffy and slightly moist. As this cookie does have a lot in common with shortbread, I am inclined to say that it would welcome the addition of rosemary, lavender, or any other herb you chose to pair with it.
These cookies didn't even survive 12 hours in this house. Carolyn and I went crazy and ate 2/3 of the batch (and that's a conservative estimate), leaving the rest for mom and dad.

Apple Coffee Cake

My very obviously undercooked, second attempt at coffeecake.

Okay, admittedly this didn't start off as my recipe. It was snagged from Simply Recipes ages ago, but it needed to be fixed as soon as I tried it.
In my kitchen, there are lots of foods that are bought with enthusiasm and then go unloved and bad. Things like celery. Or lettuce. Or, in this case, apples. I do love apples, but there are only so many I can handle in a given time period. I've had my eye on those apples for a while, trying to figure out how to get rid of them. So, I chose to make something I had all the ingredients for (well, duh Caitlin). Apple coffeecake.
For starters, this was dead simple. Ever make pancakes? It's about that hard. Yeah. Simple.
I've technically made this twice, the first time I sort of followed the recipe. Proportions and everything were correct, but I'm terrible at following directions and missed something somewhere. It ended up okay, but it didn't feel like there was enough batter for the bottom and the top. It came out of the oven as this golden brown thing on the sides, but my cinnamon on top had gotten moist and dark brown. Icky looking.
So the peanut gallery (my brother and company) is there talking about how it looks like someone sh*t on it, cutting himself a slice, starting in on how ugly it is. Then he tastes it. He immediately stops and says "Oh my god." Insults ended there. Furthermore, he goes on to inhale at its gloriousness, and inhales some sugar and cinnamon, causing him to choke. Revenge of the coffeecake!
Anyway, the coffeecake very quickly disappeared into the mouths of two teenage boys, so I felt the need to make another one. I decided that this time, I'd double the amount of batter (using the same 9" pan with a carefully placed cookie sheet). The result was a fluffy, moist, slightly-undercooked (but not in an unpleasant way, and mostly in the middle) square of deliciousness.

Apple Coffee Cake
Modified from Simply Recipes by Caitlin
Should serve about 9, but we're all greedy here.

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt (I didn't change this from the original recipe, I don't like salted baked goods)
1 cup sugar
2 tsp. cinnamon
11 tbsp. butter, room temperature
2 eggs, beaten
1 cup milk
2-3 medium sized baking apples, peeled, cored, and sliced*

*I cheated and used Macintosh apples. They're so much yummier than the Granny Smiths that were sitting in the pantry and turning yellow.

Directions:
1. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Grease a 9" square baking dish or a pie pan of equalish volume.
2. Mix together flour, baking powder, and salt. This is where Simply Recipes should've told me to set this aside and where I screwed up, I think.
3. In a separate small bowl (Oh, there it is.), mix 1/2 cup of sugar with cinnamon and set it aside. (No, I guess that wasn't it then...)
4. Beat butter with the remain sugar (Right, that's it). Beat in the eggs until blended. Add flour in THREE additions, alternating with milk, beating after each addition until combined. That's where I messed up, obviously, but it doesn't seem like it mattered a whole lot.
5. Pour half the batter into the bottom of the greased pan. You'll have to spread it out to make it fit, and you'll undoubtedly worry that you'll have too little or too much. Fear not, it's not so important as it seems.
6. Layer apples (coated in two thirds the cinnamony sugar mix) over your batter, fearlessly layering if necessary. We're aiming for one layer, but really, aren't apples delicious?
7. Pour over the remaining batter, which will also need to be spread. Sprinkle with remaining cinnamony sugar and stare in awe for 45 seconds at its beauty before you realize it's not ready to eat.
8. Bake in oven for 25-35 minutes (I recommend about 30-35 minutes, since this is kind of thick), or until golden brown and apples start to bubble at the edges.

In the future, I would not be opposed to having multiple, thicker layers of apple. The apple can easily go unnoticed in this dish (both ways that I made it), and I feel deserves a larger role. Regardless of the apple content, this dish isn't going to last more than a few hours in any house that has more than two people, so don't ask me how long it'll keep.
It's also worth noting that the cake itself is unspiced, which I found to be mildly upsetting. In the future, perhaps I'll see about spicing the cake. Spiced coffeecake sound good to anyone else?