I like songs about home, about where people are from and when they’re from. Like Mos Def’s Habitat.
When I think of home, my remembrance of my beginning
Laundromat helping ma dukes fold the bed linen
Chillin in front my building with my brother and them
Spending nights in Bushwick with my cousins and them
Wise town and Beat Street, federal relief
Slowly melting in the morning grits we used to eat
Sticking to your teeth and teeth is hard to keep
With every flavor Now & Later only a dime apiece
Old timers on the bench playing cards and thangs
Telling tales about they used to be involved in things
Start to drinking, talking loud, cussing up and showing out
On the phone, call the cops, pick’em up, move’em out
And it’s all too common to start wildin
I’m a pirate on an island seeking treasure known as silence
And it’s hard to find
Or Dungeon Family’s White Gutz
Sitting on 400 wides that’s what they love
Incense swingin from the mirror that’s what they love
Six course licked with the glaze that’s what they love
drive with the dealership tag that’s what they love
hairbone strayed on my shoulder that’s what they love
the smell of new leather in the cold that’s what they love
strawhat V-neck t’s that what they love
moonroof open blowing smoke that’s what they love
Romeo cologne every week that’s what they love
that’s what they love
Or K’naan’s My Old Home
My old home smelled of good birth
Boiled red beans, kernel oil and hand me down poetry
It’s brick white-washed walls widowed by first paint
The tin roof top humming songs of promise while time is
Locked into demonic rhythm with the leaves
The trees had to win
Hugging them, loving them a torturous love
It was over and done
The round cemented pot kept the rain drops cool
Neighbors and dwellers spatter in the pool
Kids playin football with his hand and sock
We had what we got, and it wasn’t a lot
So the subject of today’s Sunday Interactive Playlist is Where I’m From. It’s a song about the place and time that made you. The song doesn’t have to be about where you’re from, or even where the singer is from, just a song about somebody’s home.Two recipes in a row with pecan praline in them? Yes, indeed. I had some leftover, and I thought it would be good with chocolate chips. So I actually made even more, because it’s so completely easy to make. And then I combined it with oats and put it in cookies. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are our natural anti-depressant, here at The Ordinary, and it’s been a long, cold winter!
Here’s a link to your interactive playlist. Add what you like! Or make a suggestion in the comments and I’ll add it through the week.
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
1 cup brown sugar
1 t vanilla
3/4 cups rolled oats
1 cup flour (optional)
1/2 t salt
1 cup (++) pecan praline (see below)
1 cup bittersweet chocolate chips
Preheat the oven to 350.
In a large bowl, cream the butter until smooth. Beat in the sugar until light and fluffy, and then beat in the egg until lighter and fluffier. Stir in the vanilla extract.
Stir in the oats, flour and salt. Stir in the crumbled praline and the chocolate chips.
Lightly butter two large baking sheets. Drop the cookies by teaspoonfuls, leaving a bit of room. Bake until golden and firm to the touch, about ten minutes.
Let the cookies sit for a minute or two before you take them off the sheet, so that the pralines aren’t too melty and sticky, and then transfer them to a cooling rack.
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 t lemon juice
1/4 cup water
1/2 cup toasted, coarsely ground in a food processor (you still want them to be quite piece-y)
Butter a small baking tray. Mix together the sugar, water and lemon juice in a medium-sized saucepan. Put it on medium-low heat, and warm until the sugar dissolves. Turn up the heat and cook for about ten to fifteen minutes, until the mixture is golden brown. Don’t stir at all, but you can dip a brush in warm water and brush down the sides of the pan. When it’s golden brown, take it off the heat and stir in the nuts. Spread in a thin layer on the buttered baking sheet. Leave in a cool place to set. Break into pieces with your fingers, or smash with the bottom of a glass or mug.