Like Cooking, but with Kids!

There are a ridiculous number of people in the world who believe that children should help in with the cooking.

Seriously, I remember being a kid and making Christmas cookies with my mom. I remember it well because there was this really odd shape of cookie cutter and I had no idea what it was, kind of a lumpy thing, and I liked using it to cut shapes out of the dough, and then I would eat the dough. My mother flipped out a bit, then chased us all from the kitchen so she could actually put some cookies in the oven, and so we would die from eating raw eggs. (by the way, the cookie cutter was a camel. I never understood what a camel had to do with Christmas, but that's because I was a heathen and camels didn't pull the sleigh.)

I've tried to get my kids interested in cooking. The books say you can... the many many cookbooks for children, most with large sections that say "GET MOMMY TO HELP YOU CUT THE CARROTS!" Made for children who are dumb enough to eat radishes just because they are peeled and placed on a plate in the shape of someone's hair. My kids are too smart for that, people. Put fruit on a pancake and guess what? It's still fruit. Only now it's ruined the pancake.

Anyway, I have my moments where I try to let the kids help. "You can get a four year old to tear the lettuce!" it says, larger-than-life smile implied in the tone of the font.

So a couple of years ago, in some strange moment of weakness, I purchased a monster cook book. It has things like mummy meatloaf and potato skins disguised as yeti claws. But it also has a few gross desserts. I let the boys each pick an item to make. Andy chose something called "Trifle With Death."

Before pouring in the lime jello, the vanilla pudding, or the marshmallows, the first step is to tear up a sponge cake. I figured if I four year old could tear lettuce, my three kids could tear up a sponge cake.

"Is this piece big enough?" Nick asked, holding up a crumb the size of a raisin.
"It says one inch pieces," I said.
blank looks.
"A little bigger, like this," I said, holding up a piece about the size of a large grape.
"Is this big enough?" Nick asked, holding up a crumb the size of a raisin.
"No," I said.
"Like this? Like this? IS this good?" as all three boys needed me to approve every single pinched morsel of squashed sponge cake that went into the dish.

It was slightly insane.

The boys ate half the marshmallows. They were really impressed with the jello. And the pudding, which was stirred for about three seconds before the boys gave up.

The concoction is now in the fridge until tomorrow, when we get to sprinkle the top with crushed oreos and gummy worms. And gummy eyeballs, if we can find them before then. I'm afraid, and already feeling slightly ill.

Know Thyself

I found this recipe for Baked Butternut Squash & Gouda Tortellini.

It looked so yummy. I immediately thought to myself, "I want to make that."

I don't cook as much as I used to. For one, food is expensive. At least good food is expensive. Also, it takes time to cook. Time is something I don't have. Boys are in bed at 8pm. I get home from work a little after 5pm. Squeeze in to those three hours some karate, homework, baths, and any quality time I spend with the boys that day, and what's left is about five minutes. Not long enough to make a five course meal.

I promise myself one recipe a week. One night a week I can try something new, or make something "fancy" that takes more than fifteen minutes.

This past week it was the butternut squash tortellini.

I started cooking and I had all the optimism in the world.

This brings me to my point... there is a huge difference between wanting to COOK something, and just wanting to EAT it.

I overcooked the squash. I almost missed the vegetable stock entirely. I didn't measure the cheese. I almost forgot the onion. Halfway through the process Nick walked in and crumpled his face up. "You know nobody's going to EAT that, right?"

I made it anyway.

I made huge mess that I needed to clean up. The end result was a completely different color than the picture. I still ate it, mind you. The boys refused, but I didn't really think they would, anyway.

Like I said, a huge different between wanting to COOK it, to actually slice, roast, sautee, puree, etc. and just wanting to order it off of the menu. "That looks good!" I say to myself. "I want to make that!"

But I don't want to make it. I don't want to actually make it at all. I want to eat it. I want to order it. I want to enjoy it, and I want to not slave over it and struggle with it and have it come out with half the ingredients and the wrong color.

I felt like I learned something about myself. It's not that I don't like to cook. Under the right circumstances, I do. When it's not so stressful. When I have adventurous tasters. When I have time and don't feel rushed. THEN I like to cook. Not when I have 40 minutes for a recipe that says it takes 40 minutes (it lies) and the kitchen just got clean.

I will never cook again, I say.

24 hours later I'm flipping through Facebook and run across this: White Beans With Kale. I'm not even 100% sure what polenta is.

And I thought - Wow. I want to make this.

Ch-ch--ch-changes...

This summer have been more relaxed than the rest of the year.

The reason? I'm letting go. I'm changing it up.

I let the boys take July off of karate. It sounds minor, but it is costly for 3 boys. Also, that's a lot of time that is usually spent at the dojo now spend here, at the house, making dinner, tidying up, and just talking to the boys about their day.

I stopped making the boys practice piano. Nate won't be taking piano in the fall - he's going to do the violin. Nick will be taking violin AND flute. Andy will still be doing piano - I still haven't worked out the details. But I haven't made him practice for weeks.  There's no fighting about it, no struggling to find time to do it.

Sometimes, when I'm having a particularly difficult day, I put on a TV show for us to watch during dinner. We watch an episode of Dr. Who, or part of a movie... once, an episode of Arrested Development. It seems so horrible, right? I mean, this goes against everything I've been taught, everything I believe. It's the HUGEST no-no. We're supposed to sit and talk and have healthy foods. Not eat grilled cheese while laughing about banana stands.  But somehow we aren't having a bad time. It seems to work.

Also, I don't cook dinners anymore. I used to make a THING every day. Steak or chicken, a vegetable... These days I'll cook a "dinner" a week. And then the rest of the time I'll make eggs, hot dogs, french toast. Or sandwiches, mac 'n cheese, a quick pasta. I cook broccoli in the microwave or put out carrot sticks. It's quicker. It's cheaper. We're good.

Sometimes, even though we're in a rush and have things we need to do, like sleep, we just stretch out on my bed and surf the net for Weird Al videos, or research Portal, or play silly computer games or look at old photos.

All this makes it sound like we just lounge about. But that's not true either. I used to see dinner as a line drawn in the day - after dinner, the day was done. Everything else had to be done beforehand. But twice I've given the boys dinner and then packed them in the car for errands. No place very exciting - once to CVS and once to Target. The reality is, I don't want the sitter to have to stay an extra hour just so I can pick up eggs and deodorant. Also, more time with boys. And who says we can't do these things? What is it that makes them so horrible?

It's OK. It can work. If I just relax about it and don't worry about it, life is going to be fine.

Sweet Beginnings

I hate February.

I really really hate it. It's overcast and it's cold and grey, even though by mow I'm ready for spring. January is enough for me. And yet, year after year, February settles itself in between the holiday recovery month and the month of March (which is when Spring begins to appear) with it's bland, cold, icy, self.

Sure, February is a short month. And it's a short month full of things like Valentine's Day, Birthdays of various Presidents, my mother's birthday, and an entire week of school vacation. Not to mention Groundhog Day, and Imbolc (the spring equinox). And a whole month of February is Black History Month, or African-American History Month, depending on how you feel like expressing it.

All respect for these important events and occasions aside, I still hate February.

But today, February 1st, is a little different.

It's Ice Cream For Breakfast Day.

We Celebrated. Even me. I strongly urge you to begin observing this sacred day of over-indulgence. It's Awesome, unexpected, and fun. We've gotten to the point where Nick starts counting down the days.

This morning, as we were navigating our way through melting ice-cream and sticky syrups, I asked the boys if they would celebrate Ice-Cream for breakfast day for ever, from now on.

"Yes!" said Nick. "Unless I get diabetic. Then I'll just do it for my family."

Slideshow

OK, so for a little while now I've been all talk and nothing to show for it. Blah blah blah... show us some photos, Kathleen, or we're hanging up on you.

Fine.

Here's the catch: I don't have any new photos of the boys. I'm sorry, but when I'm with them we seem to be either doing stuff, or rushing to get somewhere, and when we're not doing those two things we're either eating or hanging out watching Dr. Who.

I do, however, happen grab my camera every once and awhile to capture other things. Such as...

These cookies I made:

This birthday cake I made for Andrew. Taste the rainbow!:

My broken oven:

The snow that snowed:

Some of my favorite Christmas Ornaments hanging on our tree:

The Grocery Thing

So often in life we are faced with everyday decisions that should be simple, but aren't because  we have different ideals pulling us in different directions. For example: I want to wear something that makes me look attractive, but that is comfortable. Or: I want to teach my kids to be responsible and get their own karate gi's packed, but I also want to make sure we actually leave the house to get to the dojo on time.

At the grocery store, there can be even more directions we're pulled in. I want to buy items that are 1 - healthy 2 - inexpensive 3 - ecologically responsible in growth, production, and packaging 4 - something my kids will actually eat. This can make shopping difficult.

Right now we're pinching pennies. Steve is gone, we're without immediate income, and I am without job. I am taking the time to plan, very carefully, exactly what it is I am making for meals and serving to my kids. So far, on average, my grocery bill has dropped more than 25%. A huge difference. Sure, some of that is because the boys are spending a few nights a week with Steve and I don't plan meals for those nights. On those nights, as usual, my diet consists mostly of tuna melts, leftovers, and herbal tea (it's so soothing!) 

Anyway, I recently had a conversation with a friend about how I kept the cost down, and since she asked for tips, I thought I might as well post them here. Not that I'm an expert. I realize that there are many ways to shop, and that no one way is necessarily better than another. Each person should shop in the way that works for him or her. But this works for me.

1 - limit shopping trips. I go food shopping once a week. If I forget something, I make do. Yes, If I'm making something special and forgot a key ingredient, I make a special trip. But those are rare. Why? impulse shopping. Fewer trips means I'm less likely to give in to the bag of chips or m&m's.

2 - make a list. I make a list of everything I'm making for dinner that week, and then a shopping list of everything I plan on buying. I have been known to make substitutions, to buy a different brand of crackers or try a special tomato sauce. But getting just what I think we'll need keeps the impulse shopping down. No extra cookies.

3 - When planning dinners, I don't do a huge meal every night of the week. With just me and the boys, I cook something "big" maybe once a week, something new and complicated. I make something portable (to eat in the car) once a week for that night we need it, and something kid-friendly and simple, like grilled cheese or tacos, at least once. If the kids will eat veggies raw, there's no need to cook them.

4 - I don't buy snack foods. Sure, I get crackers for school snacks, goldfish crackers. But unless I'm getting a sweet for a purpose (friday night movie night) I don't buy extra ice cream, chips, cookies, chocolate, or any of that stuff. Why? If I can stay strong at the grocery store I don't have to be as strong at home. Less junk food is better for everyone, and I know I have zero willpower. It's not like we'll never eat cake again. It's just that I won't have it sitting on my counter and I won't break down and eat some four times a day. 

That is basically it. I know this is kind of a bossy post, sorry, but I thought I'd share anyway, just in case. Maybe you'll find it helpful. Maybe not. But there you have it. Just in case you need it.

This one time...

So, I found this cartoon on Facebook.

I know Facebook is terrible and horrible and takes advantage of it's users and sells all of your private information to companies for billions of dollars, but it's all worth it to find this cartoon (artwork by The Awkward Yeti, it said) and remember this.

This story involves a wonderful friend of mine, Betsy. Betsy was my roommate, and she put up with me and my antics for a whole year. Not including college.

This one time, I decided we should go to the grocery store and each get our own pie. That way, I reasoned, we wouldn't have to share, or even be bothered having to slice it up first. We could just... dive in.

So I dragged Betsy to Star Market and all but forced her to choose a pie. I chose one for myself. We had two pies. And then we went home, settled ourselves in front of the TV, and began to eat.

After awhile, Betsy spoke up. She said she'd had enough, and was feeling sick, and wouldn't eat any more. I looked over at her pie. There was a small circular hole in the center, but it was small. It was maybe the amount of pie one would eat in a single slice. It was so tiny.

I looked at my pie. The crater I had made in the center was much, much larger. But I wasn't done. I could still keep going. And I did. I ate and I ate, and then I got this feeling. It wasn't because I was eating too much. I don't think I felt sick. I think it was more like a voice in my head saying, "Kathleen. You should not eat a whole pie. That is gross and wrong."

So in the end I ended up putting away my pie before I was done, even though I could so totally have eaten the whole thing, just because I felt it was the right thing to do. I didn't go the distance. I gave up.

I may need to try again.

Taking a Vote

OK, so for Mothers' Day I got a 5lb. bag of caramels.

I love caramels, but eating 5lbs. is NOT a good idea for any one person. Not even if she shares. Not even if she decides to try and eat just one caramel per day until they are gone. Which would bring us into February 2014.

So.

I've decided to make things with them. Things with caramel. I'm taking a vote. What do you think of these?

Salty Caramel Oat Bars

Samoa Bark

Salted Caramel Butter Bars

I've made these before but they were so good Caramel Stuffed Krispie Treats


I really really could us your opinions here. And yes, I also found apple caramel tarts and things like that. And yes, if you have other ides, let me know, just remember that I have actual caramels to use up and can't be bothered making sauces from sugar because even though I can do it that actually isn't the point to this exercise.

I kind of feel like making all four of these and then having a taste test, but I would need to know 20 people who would like to participate. Because I can't eat all that myself.

Then I Made These

I don't want this to become a food blog. I have no business food blogging because I have trouble following a recipe and have to look up how to spell "recipe" each time I write the word. (Recipie? Recepie? I really want that "i" at the end.)

But I love looking up other people's recipes. And trying to make things myself. Sometimes these things are kinds of chicken or avacado enchilladas. And sometimes... sometimes they are these.

Caramel Stuffed Krispie Bars. I found the link on Greens and Chocolate.

I tried making Rice Krispie bars once when I was a teenager and for some reason the treats hardened halfway into the pan, so I got this really hard three dimensional krispie creation that was really too hard to even chew.

But these... the caramel... it just looked so good.

So I gave it a try.

Caramel stuffed Krispie Bars 2013

I did a little research and found out that I had probably overcooked the marshmallows, turning it all into hard candy when it cooled.

This time I had the advantage of a microwave (remember when we used to not have one?) and it made the process a little easier.

I won't lie. These were really really sweet. And I cut them too big. the kids weren't able to finish theirs. Steve didn't even want one. But hey... if you're looking for a real treat... this could be it. All I need is a way to package them individually and I have take-away treat for a party or a special teacher gift.

Caramel Stuffed Krispie Bars 2013

Table Manners

Learning how to use a knife and fork is harder than you would think.

Andy - March 2013

And Then I Made These

I follow this Greens & Chocolate blog.

And not too long ago I followed a link from there to this place right here. 

And then I made them. Rolo Bars.

Because when I think "Sweetened Condensed Milk" I automatically want to add sugar and butter. And then pour it over rolos. Placed on chocolate shortbread. And cover it with more melted chocolate.

Apparently I want to die early. From a sweet induced coma.

If I learned one thing making these, other than the fact that a food can make you sick thinking about what's in it and yet be so good you can't stop eating it, it's that you shouldn't scrape off the hot caramel sauce with your finger.

And when you do, you shouldn't try to cool the burn by placing that caramel coated finger in your mouth.

It's twice the burn.

A photograph of rolos. It seemed like a good idea at the time. 

I might weigh less in the hall.

At dinner tonight Steve and I were discussing who should take the last biscuit.

They're nothing special. Seriously. Pillsbury. Only I place a ton of butter in the pan before the biscuit dough, so they are very tasty. Usually these are rationed out to the family, but for some reason we had a child unwilling to eat his, and so Steve and I were having this discussion.

We both thought the other person should take it.

"No, no," I said. " I'm kind of... I have a doctor's appointment coming up next month, and I'm not exactly happy with where the scale is."

This is where Nick piped up. "You mean in your bathroom?"

Nick - self portrait Feb. 2013

What Day Is It?

Nick has his on waffles with chocolate syrup and lots of strawberries and blueberries. Andy prefers his in a bowl with lots of Cinnamon Life cereal sprinkled on top. I like a scoop of coffee in my coffee.

So many possibilities. It's Ice Cream For Breakfast Day.

I know, it's so odd, but once a year it's a great pick-me-up, and one of my life's missions is to get more people to do this. Spread the word!

I made this

I made this for dinner the other night.

I was so proud of the way it turned out. It looked really good. The hen wasn't as tasty as I'd hoped, but the asparagus was really yummy, which proves the point that everything is better when wrapped in bacon. Also, I improvised an onion stuffing which tasted awesome with the rice pilaf.

The end.

Cupcakes

I don't know if I mentioned the cupcake store that opened up a few years ago. I'm sure I must have, because the place is such a fabulous cupcake dream in an Eloise-At-The-Plaza kind of way...

Anyway, the cupcake store happens to be located very near Andy's School. And the lady who owns the cupcake store - which is now so successful she has an additional kiosk at the mall and, if rumors prove to be true, is also opening up a third location - has a little girl who was in Nicholas's class at school. Two years in a row.

The cupcakes there are expensive, by NH standards. Over $3 for a cupcake seems extreme, when you aren't sure the kid's going to  eat it. But it should be said that these are not your run of the mill cupcakes. They're fancy. They have fancy flavors. Children don't always appreciate them. And they look....


Well, they look like this:

These are the cupcakes I bought in celebration of the first day back to school. And NO, I did NOT eat a cupcake before taking the picture! I only bought five of them, so it looks that way.

Aren't they beautiful, though? Let's take a closer look.

Fudge Sundae

Chocolate Peanut Butter

Vanilla Raspberry Swirl

Chef Andy

Andy went shuffling through the kid's cookbook we got for Christmas and picked out something he wanted to make. So, after I wrote down the list of ingredients, I went on my weekly scheduled shopping trip, did some simple prep work, and Andy went to town.

There were a couple of variations to this one. Andy could have made a fruit salad, mixing everything together, or he could have added honey and yogurt and made an ambrosia. But he chose the kabobs. Everything tastes better on a stick.

Voila!

Dinner Time

I make dinner every single night.

OK, not every night. There are nights we order pizza, but not too many. And there are nights Steve makes dinner, or sometimes just grills some meat while I throw a side together.

But most nights, I make dinner.

And I stress over what to make. Yes, I want to be healthy and serve my children nutritious meals. But mostly I stress about what to make because I think if I have to make chicken or tacos one more time my head will explode. This is where the blogs to the readers left come in, particularly Greens and Chocolate (by someone I don't know) and What I Haven't Cooked Yet (someone I actually knew in college.)

Anyway, I have been combing through these sites and sometimes I can find something that I not only want to eat, but I can also make. And then I go ahead and make it. Sometimes I remember to buy all the ingredients. Not always. And most of the time the things I make are so yummy! Even Steve has liked almost everything I've made. (The cherry chutney, not so much.) The boys.... the boys usually don't touch it. Unless it's to stick a very small pasta swirl on a lower lip and the splutter uncontrollably and ask for more milk.

The other day I was planning on making an avocado and corn salad. I was prepared. But I realized about twenty minutes before showtime that all of my avocados were rotten. Grey and squishy and way way softer than they should have been.

So I improvised. I threw what I had together, which wasn't much. Sesame bagels. Cheddar cheese. Pasta sauce.

Pizza Bagels.

And even though the bagels were stale and burned in the broiler, the boys wolfed them down and declared this the best dinner ever.

Shoot. It's just so discouraging.

Independence Day

Happy 4th of July to all. Here's to apple pie, or cherry pie, and potato salad. And of course to fireworks on boats.

Name That Vegetable!

Aaaaaand once more, Ladies and gentlemen, Welcome to another exciting episode of Name That Vegetable! 

 What is it? It looks like a stick.You can peel it. It doesn't taste like much at all. Which only I can attest to, as I was the only one that actually ate the stuff. (OK, Steve tried it.)

For the record, it's easy to find out what something looks like when you have the name, but working backwards, it's a lot harder. I have no idea how to find out what something is by looking at it.

This message has been brought to you by my CSA! Which we will soon be dropping due to excessive cost and excessive parsnips.

Food For Thought

One of the best things about being on the boat was not having to cook. Not only did I not have to rustle up three meals and two snacks a day for a bunch of picky eaters, I didn't even have to think about getting food for myself. Because on this vacation, we got three sit-down meals a day. An extravagant breakfast, a lunch with lunch-dessert, and a three course dinner. This was every day.








And in between we also had coffee in the early morning, a cooler on the deck and a snack basket inside, and a Happy Hour with what someone called "Downers" (a fru-fru drink for when the sun goes down) and hors d'oeuvres.  I gained five pounds just looking at the food.

On top of that, I must mention the table settings. Every single time we sat down it seemed the table was set with cute props in the center piece and fancy folded napkins. It made me love sitting down to the table, even before the nice cook with the New Zealand accent would come up to explain what we were eating.