Chicken and Egg - Janice Cole [81]
To make the caramel sauce: Bring the cream, brown sugar, and corn syrup to a rapid boil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, stirring. Boil for 2 ½ to 3 minutes, stirring, or until the mixture thickens enough that you can glimpse the bottom of the pan while you’re stirring. Cool to room temperature.
To serve, spoon some of the caramel sauce over each slice of cheesecake. (Refrigerate any leftover cake and sauce.)
NOTE
To make gingersnap cookie crumbs, crush about twenty-six 1 ¾-inch gingersnap cookies by pulsing in a food processor or crushing with a rolling pin in a resealable bag until finely ground.
SERVES 12
CRUST
1 ½ cups gingersnap cookie crumbs (see Note)
2 tablespoons packed dark brown sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
FILLING
Three 8-ounce packages cream cheese, softened
1 ¼ cups packed dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
½ cup sour cream
1⁄3 cup heavy (whipping) cream
1 ½ tablespoons minced fresh ginger
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
3 eggs
CARAMEL SAUCE
½ cup heavy (whipping) cream
1⁄3 cup dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon light corn syrup
CHICKEN BREEDS
Chickens come in all sorts of colors, shapes, and sizes; there are more than 175 varieties. The type you choose depends in part on whether you want chickens for meat, eggs, or both (which are called dual purpose). If appearance interests you, you have a wide choice: the poofy-topped Polish, which appears to be wearing the latest in haute couture headpieces; the lace-trimmed Wyandotte; the tiny Silkie, with its soft-as-silk coat; and the exotic naked-neck Turken, with its turkeylike neck. The chicken world is full of interesting specimens. Decide what you’re looking for, whether it be lots of eggs, striking additions to your lawn ornaments, colorful eggs, or a heavy meat bird. Don’t forget to do some research to find breeds that do well in your climate.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Midwinter
As winter settled in the first year, the chicks were not adapting. I liked the fact that they were no longer up at 5:30 A.M., but it was often still dark at 7:30, or later, when I let them out of their coop on days I had an early-morning meeting or job to go to. I’d lost my zeal for running out and greeting the girls in the morning, I realized as I pulled on the Sorels; grabbed my parka that had been rechristened the chicken coat because of the food, feathers, and unmentionables it had been baptized with; and jammed a fleece hat over my ears. My husband grinned smugly as he took another sip of warm coffee. I thoroughly regretted my agreement to undertake all chicken duties by myself.
I trudged through the high-pitched creaking snow to open the coop and let the chicks out into the frigid morning. You can tell the morning temperature by the sound the snow makes as you step on it: When it’s warm, the snow is quiet; when it’s cold, the snow crunches; and when it’s frigid, the snow squeaks loudly. Every morning my three sweet girls acted surprised, as if overnight they’d forgotten they live in this chilly wasteland. When I reassured them spring would come again, their beady eyes accusingly blinked “It’s all lies!”
Food was their salvation; it not only provided nourishment but also kept them warm, and they ate greedily. As the self-proclaimed Godfather, Roxanne hip-checked the other two out of the way. She righteously marched to the front of the food queue. When I had extra time, I made them hot oatmeal and brought it out with their morning food to ease my conscience. At night they got cracked corn, which they digested more slowly, helping them to keep warm through the extra-cold nights.
The chicks seemed toasty in their heated chicken coop with their special heating pad, so I didn’t worry as we headed into January and February. Our winters had been getting progressively milder, so I assumed the chicks