A Shout-Out to Cousin S

. . . and many thanks for the story and the recipe! I'll definitely post about my first attempts at making your French bread, which is now top on my list.

Rise Up: Embracing the Bread

Unitarian Universalists (UUs) across the continent are expanding Earth Day’s 40^th anniversaryon April 22, 2010 to last 40days, from Sunday April 18 to Thursday May 27. How? By committing to small and large daily actions over the 40 days, for the sake of the Earth and all who live here. Some UUs are even taking small lifestyle changes for 40-day “test drives,” knowing that our personal choices affect many aspects of global environmental justice.

And I'll be making bread. Not just for fun occasionally with the kids. But all of our family's bread--sandwich bread, cinnamon raisin bread for toast, rolls, any buns we need, also any pie crusts and all baked goods like baked doughnuts and quick breads and cookies and cakes for celebrations (pretty much the only thing with wheat that I will not be responsible for is pasta! And maybe tortillas . . . ). No knead, hand-kneaded, bread machine, whatever it takes. For 40 days.

And I'm really excited. First, because I've considered being our sole bread provider (that's literal, not figurative!). I mean, it's so easy to make bread in my machine and it's so much better for us--who needs all that HFCS and preservatives in bread that never seems to rot? And the baking of homemade bread smells so good! Second, of course because I love to bake, especially with the kids, even if it is just putting ingredients in my bread machine and watching it do the work (I am not, obviously, a snot about bread machines, though I'll be trying it the traditional way too). Third, I'd like to expand my skills. I've had some successes with bread, like last Easter's braided cardamom loaf (oops, confession: that dough was started in the machine). But also some major failures, like Rev. M's bread gone bad (I talked with her about it; she's flummoxed but thinks it must have been a yeast-proof problem. So, Rev. M, I mean, I know you're busy and all with your wedding, but would you like to come bake bread sometime?! Even after the 40 days . . . ). And fourth, there are some recipes I want to master. Like pie crust. How come I'm scared of pie crust? And I want to try Bloodroot's oatmeal and seed bread, which I love. And I have a Dutch oven to do the no-knead recipes in. And I want to find a wheat bread that is good tasting and good for us so we're not just eating (divine) cakey white bread (because, another Pollan food rule states "the whiter the bread, the quicker you're dead!"). And I'm going to figure out how Bertucci's makes those rolls, which long ago replaced Olive Garden breadsticks as my restaurant bread of choice.

Now, luckily, we don't eat a ton of bread as it is. So one loaf a week (freezing half after it cools to thaw later in the week--homemade bread just doesn't last--in more ways than one! I like mine with butter and marmalade; Sis prefers honey or apple butter; Bud likes honey or strawberry jam; Mama will eat all of the above!), plus usually another baked good, is all we're really talking about. Though, I'm guessing that those of you who live near me will benefit from this project as I will unload family extras--our freezer just isn't big enough to house it all. And I'd hate to waste it.

It was a proverbial sign from heaven as I was sitting in my minister's office talking about church school and Passover that I spotted two pamphlets on UU breadmaking rituals (more on that in a later post)! I mean, really, bread and spirituality have gone hand in hand for millennia. What better way to celebrate the earth and ethical eating and church (especially for a very Lent-like 40 days)? And then today, Whole Foods had featured on the end of an aisle the new King Arthur Flour's organic bread flour. So I bought a bag, no doubt my first of many.

Keep an eye out for future posts, under the "Rise Up" title. And send any bread recipes you think I should try.

Whole Food

We have a new favorite apple: Cameos, available at our Whole Foods and grown organically in Washington. We ate three yesterday and went back to WF this morning for more, 14 more. That's just one apple a day per child for a week, none for the adults, which looks like a lot but is only 1/5 of the produce they need for a week, if you think about it that way. Which is why we also bought strawberries and grapefruit, another new favorite of Bud's.

Yep, we're trying to eat our colors, to encourage fruits and vegetables (though, I haven't successfully explained that brown is not exactly what I'm aiming for. Maybe it should be "eat a rainbow."). And to try to eat whole food. But how do you explain that concept to a preschooler? We play a game: guess where it came from. If they can name where a food came from, picture it in their heads, then it's probably a whole, natural food. If they can't, it's not "bad"--there are no bad foods in our house (and we don't talk about diets or losing weight or negative body images; I go to my "food class" but they only know it's about learning more about healthy eating, which essentially it is, even if it's called Weight Watchers)--just something we don't want to eat a lot of. And it really works. They can picture apple trees and strawberry bushes but not a cupcake tree. Though, this backfires sometimes because they know how to bake and can tell me what goes into a cupcake, i.e. flour, from wheat, which is a plant! Same with ice cream . . . from milk from cows!! And Sis completely understands that chocolate starts out as a bean. So, we're working on "treat treats as treats." Which doesn't go over nearly as well. Especially, when, well . . . . see below.

Anyway, we went to WF today and bought those apples and other fruits, some yellow split peas to make soup (after an incredible soup I had at Bloodroot for their anniversary dinner on Wednesday; more on that later), and then they wanted to find the samples lady who gave them juice last week. This time, however, the freebie was pie: lemon almond pie. This was incredible. It was like a traditional lemon bar (but thicker and not translucent like lemon meringue pie) in a pie crust with this almond-topped not exactly crust layer similar to how my buttermilk pie bakes up. And it was amazing. We all thought so. But no way it will keep until next week for Easter. And they aren't sure how many they'll have in stock. And weren't sure if it'd freeze. But, well, I splurged--lemons grow on trees, right? and crust is made from wheat, which is a plant!--and bought a pie anyway. I figure I'll send some to Ma and Gong via Mama tomorrow when she goes to the memorial service of her college friend and joins them for a meal (you'll love this pie) and then keep some for us and for sharing at church on Sunday. That should give me just enough exposure to it to figure out how to make it myself! Which is another Pollan rule (right up there with the colors and "where does it come from" and treats): if you want fast food (as the rule goes, I'm expanding it to treats), make it yourself. Because you won't as often.

Or at least that's what the rule implies . . . .

A Pox on Us

The kids almost didn't go to school this morning. At breakfast, Sis showed us her itchy belly covered in 10+ red spots, like ant bites. Oh, goodness--with the recent fever, could this be chicken pox? I had it, what, 3 1/2 decades ago, and can't recall the progression. So we looked on various trustworthy medical sites: Fever? Check. Red spots? Check. Itchy? Check. No school. But we did page the doctor just to be sure and to see what to do next. Which is when she called back, humoring us. Apparently the spots arise during the fever, are extremely itchy (Sis's weren't), start on the face, and spread like wildfire. This wasn't that. And so the doctor thinks it's some kind of contact dermatitis or other kind of contact rash, especially because her last temp was Monday (5 days ago) and said they were okay to go to school. Which is exactly where they were about 15 minutes later . . . .

Mind Like a Sieve

So we're at the store yesterday shopping for items to go in the Easter basket of a young boy living in a shelter whom we had chosen through church to give to. And the kids were doing really well picking Easter treats and other toys for him, including our new, all-time favorite flying disk (which Bud spent yesterday afternoon almost landing on the roof! Not the boy's, Bud and Sis got one too). But they did keep pointing things out that they would like and wanted to take home and I kept saying, "No, I'm not buying you a _____ (insert chocolate bunny, chocolate gold posts toy, bunny stickers, whatever). The Easter Bunny does your shopping." (which, by the way, struck me as ridiculous as soon as I said it--do we imagine that the Bunny goes to the store?). Then it hit me. I'm the Easter Bunny. And Easter is just about a week away. I'm going to need to do some shopping. (Hi kids! If you're reading this in 5 years time, I hope you already know this already. :|) For their baskets. For Easter dinner. For the whole shebang. Pronto.

So just guess where I was this morning as soon as I dropped them off at school?!

Stitch-N-Smile

I'm renaming our church's craft club, at least for this blog, since I need to get out of calling it by its real name in case one of the kiddos inquires what exactly a bitch is. But there was more smiling than bitching at the get together last night, where several knitters, crocheters, and one cross-stitcher gathered to ply our crafts. I've just started work on a new prayer shawl in bold somewhat autumnal colors (Gommie said they would be great), for a kind woman who has made many things for the kids and needs some love and prayers right now. Hopefully, it doesn't take me until the colors are again in season to finish the thing!

Scale Victory!

Yeah, I hit another magical number! Still aiming for that 5% though. And then 10% . . . . You know what they say about Rome.

Even better, there was an asparagus recipe in the little booklet we now get at every WW meeting (which, being a paper-hoarder and recipe hound thrills me to no end. It's one reason I go every week, which I'm sure is half the point). I've been craving asparagus for about 3 months (at least since planning the Christmas menu) but avoiding all of the ones in the store because they have traveled more food miles to get here than I have in my life! But pretty soon there's going to be local asparagus! (and by that I mean local from this continent! And eventually from my region . . . . ) I can't wait. Send on those asparagus recipes . . . .

Lastly, I'm very excited about the possibility that chain restaurants will be required to provide nutritional information by the new health care bill (a la the law in NYC, which really does make you think twice about buying that scone!)--so many do it selectively or not at all, which makes it hard to plan ahead. And you know the calories/fat are worse than you can possibly imagine, which is why we try not to eat out (operative word is "try" because the whole family loves eating out and chains are often more kid-friendly that local places, though I'm not sure why). I just want to know what goes into those Bertucci's rolls!

Tidbits

(Okay, so I should quit adding to this post, but this is too funny). While preparing chocolate cherry clam shell tarts, the young chefs in my yard uncovered an ancient Chinese terracotta warrior in the sandbox. Sensing their true callings, they have abandoned the restaurant business and have founded the "Museum of History, which has, you know, old stuff from a long time ago." They also found a white rock, most likely of "ritual significance" (my term, not theirs), that has been enshrined on the museum's shelf. They are now archaeologists (a word I'm proud they know without asking; "artifact," too!) digging in the dirt under the swings in hopes of finding more artifacts.

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I'm waiting for the Tavern in the Yard to open, as the two chefs busily prepare their seasonal offerings. Featured on the menu today: "cherries," which have fallen in great numbers from our great silver maple. I can't wait 'til they open.

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They were both standing on the swings in our yard, helmets on (they love to leave on their bike helmets when playing in the yard after tricycling; I am not a crazy safety mom). They swung back and forth. And I said they look like ships' figureheads. But they didn't know what those were so I explained that they were sculpted figures at the head of a ship that sailors believed protected them from danger. And so the kids embraced and explored the idea: "Mom, can figureheads do this? Can they go back and forth? Do they kneel?" We talked about how ships almost literally fly through the water, with figureheads soaring above the surf. And I'll show them pictures (and later the collection at Mystic Seaport), but for now, they're sailing around Cape Horn, I think . . . .

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Bud has a new shirt with the tail of a whale on it. Sis has one too. But she thought she should have the whale's head so they could stand next to each other and make a whole whale.

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Currently, they love tire swings. They like to sit on the top, hang in the middle, stand in the middle, spin around, swing back and forth, you name it, they do it. Except we don't have tire swings at home, only at school. Too bad this tire swing love didn't start before I had to get all new tires for the van!

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For our last snow (I think), Bud said the snow was like a big blanket.

Sis said it was like thick frosting.

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Two for One

I was so excited to see Joan Nathan's article about the Iranian Passover seders in the NYTimes this week. First, I love reading the recipes for Seders (as well as the High Holy Days in the fall) because I am fascinated by such an intact and strong albeit very diverse food culture (recognizing now, since reading Pollan and Kingsolver, that this might be because we don't have much of a traditional "American" food culture remaining). Secondly, and this is much more recent, I have such a better understanding of the history of the region and why there would be Jews in Persia beginning 2500 years ago. Besides, who could pass up Almond Cake with Cardamom and Pistachio? Encapsulating my thoughts on exploring other food cultures in an article on pomegranate molasses, John Willoughby writes "we’re going to exercise a little benign culinary imperialism, appropriating ingredients and adding them to our larder. No one gets hurt, and dinner becomes more interesting."

Off to School

Yes, they're off to school. Both of them. Though Sis was exhausted and grumpy yesterday, a fever never materialized. And she is happy this morning, which means she gets to go to school, about which she is very happy. There for a bit I thought Bud might be coming down with it too but I think he was just hitting a slump. He's happy this morning as well. Which of course means I'm happy, because often the opposite of the cliche is true: when everyone is happy, Mommy is happy.

Veggie Love

Okay, I think I might have gone round the bend: I've become obsessed with vegetables. I used to laugh at my friend "Church Miss L" when she said the same thing, but I can now see how it happens. I'm getting ready for spring produce appearing in the grocery stores and even more importantly to CSA season. And I'm literally dreaming of vegetables. Sure, I'm a vegetarian and one would think that implied veggie-love, but, no, you can definitely exist as a vegetarian on pastas and grains and beans and dairy. I did that the first year. But now, entering my third year as a vegetarian, and having been introduced to good produce through the farm and to ethical eating through Pollan and Kingsolver et al, I can't get enough vegetables (and fruits, I should say). Which will probably strike my mom as funny, being that I look back on what I wouldn't eat as a child and the list is legion, most of it the colors of the rainbow (I did like broccoli, as long as it had some cheese, and some greens and green beans but only very cooked, and of course corn and peas--and I liked limas!!--but never lettuce or tomatoes or carrots or peppers or mushrooms or zucchini or eggplant, much less all the vegetables like leeks and kohlrabi, which I've only recently discovered). And now I can't get enough. I'm even planning my vegetable-season strategy, which includes planning my new, bigger garden in back (after we pull out a huge invasive burning bush) as well as sorting interesting recipes by main vegetable ingredient in advance--so soon, you'll see an asparagus post, dandelion greens, garlic scapes, whatever (soon is relative). And because it's me, it goes without saying that I'm obsessively hording vegetable recipes.

Which is why I thought of this tonight. Because I was at a craft club meeting at church--more on that tomorrow because it is really late (and then only if both kids go to school which seems iffy right now)--and the people working on the service auction were there. And there was this gift box of books called The Vegetable Box, which was organized by different vegetables and contained different little recipes books for each vegetable. Heaven help me (and thank goodness I'm a UU), I coveted my neighbor's recipes. So I offered the auction organizers a check there and then and I got it for much less than it sells online right now. It's a cute little set and the recipes seem eclectic, as the writer has Scottish, French, Spanish, and Italian influences. And maybe the quirky box will get the kids more interested in cooking with vegetables too.

Come on, vegetables!

Thanks, Y'all!

Mercy, I must usually be perky on this blog or else that last post was excessively negative because people came out of the woodwork to wish us well.

Thanks to Lambeth, for his cheering international call and dose of perspective.

Thanks to Mama Teacher, for calling first thing to see how Sis was.

Thanks to Gommie, because, even though we didn't pick up, entrenched in blanket castles, we were glad to know you called.

We have transformed the entire living room into some kind of medieval village, with two huge castles made of couches, tables, pillows, blankets, and heavy books. And we had an early lunch of their favorite dumplings, a whole cantaloupe, and ice cream. Both activities have contributed to our improved moods. Even Mama sounded better on the phone just now, when I called to tell her that the upsetting kindergarten rumors were unfounded. And the cats have gone to sleep for the day.

Thank you!

Grumpy

The kids are grumpy, both tired of Sis being sick.

Mama is grumpy from too much to do and too much on her mind.

I'm grumpy from all of the above plus my own stuff, such as worrying about kindergarten.

Even the cats are grumping about various things.

Everyone wants something else and no one is getting it.

You would've thought we all would've learned by now . . . .

(And what is it we're to have learned? In NVC, that I choose grumpiness as a reaction to unmet needs; I don't have to be grumpy. Or in Zen Buddhism, as I understand it, letting go of our attachment of what "should" be and living what we have. I know it, but I have a lot to learn.)

Eating for Easter

Thinking on my Easter menu, which will probably be served Saturday with family is here:

• deviled eggs
• dip with veggies or chips or both (hummus? salsa?) or a baked brie?
• ham
• homemade rolls
• macaroni and cheese (probably from a box, as the kids reject my fancy stuff)
• green salad or green bean casserole or both
• asparagus? brussel sprouts? some other vegetable?
• noodle kugel or quiche or frittatta--something with eggs
• orange monkey bread or other orange-ish dessert (well, that's what I'd want; doubt it will be anything other than strawberry jello and brownies, though not together)

Though, re-reading 2009 (I can't find any recipes or menus from 2008!!??) gives me lots of other good ideas.

Keypers

I couldn't figure out where my keys were.

Bud and I had left Sis and Mama at the ped's and gotten home about 15 minutes earlier. So, my keys--the ones with my car keys--could only be lost at home.

Bud had wanted to play outside, to chase around the purple balloon that was tied to the velcro on his tennis shoes. And he had me chase him around trying to catch the balloon. It was then I transferred my keys from my right, swatting hand, to my left hand around the ring finger.

But now we were in the backyard on the deck and the keys were gone. Had I put them down to tighten the laces on my shoes? No. Had I put them on the porch when I fetched my phone? No. Had I put them down when I relocated the Texas windsock on the laundry line? No.

Gone.

I told Bud he could have all the change in my purse if he found my keys. As he raced around, I called Mama to tell her not to go fill any prescriptions they might get but to call me first. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Not in the grass, not in the car, not on the deck, not on the porch. No keys.

Mama showed up; she and Sis, with her own pink balloon tied to the velcro of her tennis shoes, joined the search. Though, Sis didn't think it was fair that I give all my change to the finder. "You won't have any money, Mom." Soon, Mama handed me a keyring, wisely devoid of keys, and had me retrace my steps. The kids watched, enthralled. I put my purse and our tote on the porch. I chased Bud around the yard. I tightened the laces on my shoes. I pretended to move the windsock on the laundry line.

"No, really do it." And so I hauled in the windsock.

And there, caught in the strings attaching it to the laundry line, were my keys, dangling above the yard.

None of us could believe it, both that I found my keys and that retracing my steps really worked.

"But who gets the money, Mom?" Sis queried.

And so I let them split it.

But I should've given the coins to Mama, who wisely entoned, "Tracing your steps works if you actually retrace all your steps."

Inconclusive

The doctor's visit revealed that Sis's temp was 102 and that she had neither an ear infection or tonsilitis. As strep is going around, she endured the dreaded throat culture (as did the doctor, nurse, and Mama it took to restrain her--our appointment was late, late in the day and Mama came to meet us), which was negative. At least the quick one was, so we'll await the lab one. Sis has perked up with more Tylenol and then dinner. Now, we're headed to bed, though Mama has headed back out, for a preschool meeting about kindergarten. Not sure what we'll do about school on Wednesday, but I'm guessing the fever will be back tomorrow making the decision for me.

Too Soon

I spoke too soon--Sis isn't feverless anymore and I'm on hold with the doctor's office to see if we can check ears and throat. Poor thing, the older she gets, the more miserable she is when these fevers hit. She's even refusing her usual comforts of a bubble bath or television.

One is a Lovely Number

The kids split up today: Sis at home, feverless but still officially sick for another 24 hours since her last fever, and Bud at school, with no signs that he was going to be ill. This was a first for all of us. In the beginning, Bud was heavily resistant, wanting to stay home, while Sis was packing his snack for him and locating his jacket! But apparently, at school, Bud settled right in and never asked about Sis or expressed any discomfort or sadness at her absence. In other words, he was just fine. She wasn't, though. She spent a lot of time wondering what he was doing, if he would make her a picture or bring home extra craft project supplies for her. She wanted to buy him a snack at the coffee shop and even insisted we make him a treat. So we went to the store for Strawberry Bread makings, clearly his favorite and not hers (though, she got a chocolate bar, some bubble bath, and two spring dresses). That said, we still managed to have a fine morning, reading several Curious George books, cuddling on the couch, plus baking bread and talking on the phone. But she thought it was over too soon. It always is.

Then we picked him up--and he did have extra craft project supplies for her (well, he'd forgotten but I asked and they gladly obliged)--and headed for lunch. Eating "crunchy chips," we all shared the details of our day (though the exact identity of the strawberry bread was not revealed, only that we made a treat) and drew "The Great Green Room" from the puppet show yesterday.

Sibling rivalry resumed when we got home--was her fever back? was she tired from the morning? was she just tired of him after a taste of singlehood? There were tears and complaints that he wasn't playing with her the way she wanted. No compromise in sight. So, we're taking a quick tv break, to ease them back into twindom . . . .

Feeling Thankful

Sure, spring just started on Saturday, but now I am really looking forward to Thanksgiving!

Epiphany

I was lying in the bathtub, flat on the bottom, perfectly content. And I suddenly realized something (else) about my body: the new diagnosis of lordosis, or flat upper back/straight spine where it should curve, explains why I sit bolt upright in any car seat (almost at a right angle), am comfortable in church pews (as long as I have a cushion to sit on), and am never comfortable in "supportive" curved chairs like recliners or airplane seats or stadium seating in theaters.

Who knew?

Now, if I could only figure out why I just can't be comfortable in denim, even if the jeans fit.