Empanadas Kiwi Style

Empanadas are typically known as a Latin American pie, but I grew up knowing them in NZ as pasties. Here they can be deep fried or baked. Tonight, I made a bunch and added my own twist and thought I´d share it with you.

Pre-heat oven to 180 deg C.

Dough

3 cups of flour
1 heaped teaspoon of baking powder
a pinch of salt
2 teaspoons of sugar
1/2 cup (or 1/4 lb of butter)
2/3 cup of chicken stock
1 egg

Filling

250g minced beef
1/2 cup of diced capsicum (bell pepper)
1/2 cup of frozen corn
1 tsp mixed herbs
1/2 tsp garlic salt
1 brown onion gravy sachet
salt and pepper
I also added some backyard oven seasoning I got in the USA.

Sweet alternative filling (I only made one but it was delicious even with the chicken stock, which sounds weird, but it does work)
1/4 grated apple
1 pecan (left over from Christmas)
1 tsp sugar
a sprinkle of cinnamon

To make the dough: mix the dry ingredients and cut in the butter until it resembles breadcrumbs. In a cup, whisk the egg with a fork and add the room temp. chicken stock. Add these wet ingredients to the dry and mix to form a soft dough.

Sprinkle your work surface with flour and divide the dough into about 18 evenly sized balls. Roll each ball out into a circle and place a spoonful or two on one side, dampen the edges with egg white, fold the edges together and pinch. Brush the top with egg white and bake on a tray lined with wax baking paper.

For the sweet alternative,  place grated apple into one of the rolled crusts, chop up the nut, sprinkle sugar and cinnamon, and close up the empanada. After brushing the top with egg white, sprinkle with sugar.

Bake for about 20 minutes. Then flip them over and put them back in the oven for another 5 minutes.

Well, folks it is time for prayer meeting. Blessings to you all.

Shifts and Surprises!

Christmas has come and gone for yet another year. It seems to me that a shift is taking place. Not a dramatic one and probably not a significant one, but it is a change that makes me stop and think about how our lives with God shift as we grow older. (Why is it that when I find a space in time to get all reflective, a massive shouting match breaks out on the street and all the neighbours flock to see? It seems people are still edgy over the stabbings that occurred about a month ago, killing two of my neighbours.) Now, where was I?

Once upon a time Christmas morning was abuzz with little ones teetering on the edge of hysteria at the thought of opening the surprises in their overstuff stockings. As the years rolled on, this level of euforia has dwindled, slowed, and then took a gradual turn.

This particular Christmas morning (actually afternoon since Mexico celebrates Christmas Eve with a large meal that lasts into the wee hours of the morning, and no one wants to get up early on the 25th, ever!), I realized that our kids' greatest moment of delight was watching their parents open these fantastic stocking fillers! They told us they took hours choosing what to get us and and had the most fun doing it.

When did this shift occur? When did my kids 'grow up', and find more excitement in giving instead of getting? Well, they still like the getting too.

Is it not the same with falling in love? It's all firecrackers and jingle bells at first, and then over time we mature and realize it is better to give than to receive.

As I have been following my Saviour now, for close to 40 years, I have grown to love serving Him beyond words. With each New Year, come the challenges and heartbreaks of dealing with the poor and the broken on a daily basis, but there also comes a deep-seated joy, an expectation. What surprises will He let me discover this year? What crazy gift has He secretly planned for me to unwrap? Better yet, what can I surprise Him with? It may take me hours to plan, perhaps even all year, but I can't wait.

Flying Leap and Missing the Mark

Our kids are home for the Christmas break, and to celebrate we went for an overnight getaway to Amecameca. The village is nestled into the skirts of Mexico’s great volcanos Popocatépetl and Ixtaccíhuatl where the air is fresh and the food is fantastic homestyle country cooking. During our stay this week, we set out for a casual stroll under the pine trees. The rainy season ceased several months ago meaning that the grass was now tawny and crunchy underfoot, and the ground was hard and somewhat dusty. I watched my son’s long legs step gracefully over a tiny creek and continue on bounding from old trunks to picnic tables and showing off his goalkeeper agilities. He had made passing the creek look so easy that I didn’t think twice. I took a few steps back, sized up the incline on the far bank, ran and leaped. The world around me seemed to hold its breath, and then erupted with laughter as I missed my footing and fell hard and flopped within inches of that tiny creek! Okay, so I misjudged that one just a tad! I am not the only one in history to do something so publicly stupid, but at least I did not end up in the creek. My family has never laughed so hard, and well, King Solomon did say that laughter is good medicine. That evening as we returned to the city, I nursed my bruises and reflected on what I had read that morning. It seems that King Solomon’s son also missed the mark that was laid out before him. 2 Chronicles 12 tells the story of how Rehoboam, once firmly established as king, turned away from God’s law. He ruled in Jerusalem for seventeen years and in that time learned how to humble himself before the Lord and managed to turn the Lord’s wrath from him. It doesn’t sound too bad, but by the end of his life, verse 14 says the following about Rehoboam,

“He did evil because he had not set his heart on seeking the Lord.”

Rehoboam missed the mark, because he did not set his heart on seeking the Lord. I like the Spanish version of this verse that says (in my personal translation) 'he acted badly because he did not have the firm purpose of seeking the Lord.' With the holiday season in full swing, it is all too easy to get caught up in end-of-year dinners, gift exchanges, decorating and baking. It is easy to get so distracted that we miss the mark regardless of how secure we may feel in our position with God. This Christmas I am challenged to firmly and purposefully set my heart on seeking the Lord.

Here we go...

This week has marked the beginning of my life as a publicly known author. It has only taken me six years to get my first book Shira: The Name History Forgot ready for publishing. I have learned so much about grammar, graphic design, and ebook formatting that I feel like my head could explode. Add that to my life in this mega city, and no wonder my family have been keeping their merry distance this week.

To give you a taste, let me share this little incident with you. One morning this week, I took the skinny backroads option in getting  to the missionary kids' school, where I teach language arts. I sped over the speed humps and wove my way closer to my destination, when suddenly a couple of cyclist decided they would prefer to ride in the middle of the road right in front of me. After following their rather leisurely pace for all of ninety seconds, I found myself honking at the jovial hippies and pointing for them to get out of my way. The girl nearly fell off her bike in fright, but she did move enough for me to zoom on past-only to come smack up behind a garbage truck. Moments later, the bearded hippy threw his body against the passenger door, bending the mirror backward, and yelled something I won't repeat. He then cycled on past ringing his little bike bell.

"Lord, I know you say I shouldn't curse anyone, but you saw that, right?" I said through clenched teeth.

Life in the city can have its stressors to say the least.

Shira's story has been a world away from this one, both a retreat and a stress release. This week I am delighted to share it with you.