Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Irish Potatoes

Well, I was planning on having today’s post be simply about Irish Potatoes.   I always assumed that people knew what I was talking about when I mentioned them, but I was wrong.  I often found people staring back at me with a blank look on their face.  Apparently, these are a regional thing, and most people outside of the Philadelphia area aren’t familiar with them.

Irish Potatoes are a mixture of cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, and coconut.  Once combined, the mixture is rolled into cinnamon.  The final result looks like a small potato.  These are delicious, and if I let myself, I will eat the entire batch.  This is an easy recipe to make, and it’s perfect for little hands.

Ingredients:
  • 1 block cream cheese, softened
  • 3 cups confectionars sugar
  • 1 tbsp vanilla extract
  • ¼ butter, softened
  • 2 cups shredded coconut
  • Cinnamon          
Instructions:
  • In large bowl, cream the butter and cream cheese together.
  • Add vanilla and the sugar.  Beat until the mixture forms a ball.
  • Stir in the coconut.
  • Using your hands, roll the mixture into small balls (or form them to look like small potatoes).
  • Place the cinnamon in a shallow dish, and roll the balls in it.
  • Place the balls on a cookie sheet, and chill for about an hour.
The final result!
Yesterday I posted about my first friend, and cousin, Kevin.  I specifically stated that I consider all my cousins my friends, and that I didn’t want any texts from them with complaints.  So, what happened?  I got this.


This is my cousin, and my friend, Timothy.  Everyone used to call him Timmy, but he put a stop to that – or at least he tried.  I stopped calling him that when he bought me a beer at a U2 concert, and he was underage.  Like, really underage.  It was during the Elevation tour, so you do the math.
Penn State / Temple Game 2007

He is Kevin’s younger brother, and again, he’s one of the funniest people I know.  He shares my nerdy interests, and is the only person outside of Mary Kaye that shares my obsession with Bruce Springsteen.   We dragged out spouses, and our children, to the Springsteen exhibit this past summer at the National Constitution Center in Philadelphia.  We could have easily spent the afternoon looking at Bruce’s old liner notes, concert posters, and tattered jeans – it was Bruce heaven.  However, we both decided staying married was a bit more important, as his wife and my husband looked bored out of their minds.
Kevin and Michele's Wedding (2007)

Tom and Mandy's Wedding (2008)

Boba Fett?  Boba Fett?  Where?

The Monkey started calling him Uncle Tim, after she would hear her cousins continually say it.  He never blinked an eye when we heard it, and he made sure that everyone knew it.  He treats her as if she is truly her niece.  Family like that is rare.
Megan, Uncle Tim, and a member of the Imperial Army
Happy now bonehead?

Jeez….who is going to text me next?

Until next time….

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