snacking into the new year

For as much as I was missing gathering at the table a few weeks ago I’ve been savoring every holiday moment these past days. With the gifts given, the dining room is no longer a command center awash in boxes and bows. It is a gathering place. We’ve eaten there the past three nights with the grandparents as they’ve come and gone. It’s so nice to use that room for what it’s for … eating and visiting … laughing and lingering. And with toys still splayed across the family room my parents, husband and I spent most of their visit at the kitchen table. They would keep me company while I cooked and then we would “throw dominoes” after the kids were in bed. In between the kids wandered in and out needing help with new toys.

Every year we pile in the van with a Tupperware of cookies and some thermoses of Oberwiess eggnog and just wander our town looking at Christmas lights. We all enjoy the electronic displays, but I am also touched by the glimpses into the lives all around us. One house in particular stands out for me. We have passed it once a year for several years now and each time it is host to a large holiday gathering. Classic scenes of guests gathered around a piano upstairs are balanced by the view of many men around a big-screen TV downstairs.

With New Year’s Eve upon us, the last of these special gatherings is taking shape. Guests will be welcomed into warm homes filled with that invigorating buzz. They will partake. They will celebrate. They will step out into the silent chill of a winter night, a slight ringing in their ears, a bit of rosy tinge to their cheeks. Perhaps their sides will be sore from laughter.

“It’s so central, so simple,” I think as we pass a neighbor’s house. Over the tops of the cars parked in the street I see they’ve gathered with family in their dining room, too. “But it can be so hard to accomplish. How can we make it easier? How can I help people see it doesn’t all have to be big celebrations? How can I help them see a quick dish on a weeknight can leave you with that same ear-ringing, sore-sided buzz … just as my botched mac and cheese did last week?”

A New Year dawns bringing with it new resolve. The gifts are put away. The leftovers are consumed. As the lights go out may the glow of these gatherings remain in the food we share on the plain old regular days to come. Happy New Year.

Fiesta Salsa Dip
(thanks to Aunt Lesa)
2 fresh tomatoes chopped
4 green onions sliced thin
8 oz. shredded Monterey Jack cheese
8 oz. shredded Sharp Cheddar cheese
1 4.5-oz. can chopped black olives
1 4.5-oz. can diced green chiles, drained
1 package dry Italian dressing mix prepared according to directions

Combine all ingredients with prepared Italian dressing and chill at least four hours. Serve with tortilla chips.

Tastefully Simple Honey Teriyaki Dip
8-oz. cream cheese, softened
1 cup cooked chicken, chopped
½ cup chopped green onions
½ cup chopped peanuts
Honey Teriyaki Sauce
Tortilla chips or assorted crackers

Layer cheese, chicken, onions and peanuts. Drizzle with sauce and serve with chips or crackers.

Four Cheese Puffs
(thanks to Hubby’s mom)
1 pound loaf unsliced white bread
½ cup butter (1 stick)
¼ cup grated Mozzarella cheese
¼ cup grated Sharp Cheddar cheese
3 oz. cream cheese
½ tsp. dry mustard
1/8 tsp. ground cayenne pepper
Pinch of salt
2 egg whites

Trim and discard the crusts from the top, bottom and sides of loaf. Cut the bread into 1-inch cubes. Set aside.
In a saucepan, combine the butter and cheeses. Stir over moderate heat until melted. Add the mustard, cayenne and salt. Remove from heat. Beat the eggs until stiff. Fold into the cheese mixture. Using a fondue fork or skewer, spear bread cubes individually and dip into the mixture until well coated.
Arrange the cubes on a baking sheet. Freeze immediately until firm, preferably overnight. Remove the puffs from the baking sheets and store in plastic bags in the freezer until ready to use.
At serving time, place the frozen cubes on a baking sheet and bake at 400 degrees for 10 minutes, until nicely browned.

Mushroom Tarts
(From Teatime Celebrations, by Patricia Gentry)
Use either miniature muffin tins or tart pans to prepare these savory, herb-seasoned tarts. Both types of pans are available at better cookware stores. The little tart pans can be unstable; to more easily transport them from counter to oven and then from oven to cooling rack, set the pans on the baking sheet.

¼ cup vegetable oil
½ cup butter
1 pound mushrooms, finely chopped
½ cup finely chopped parsley
1/3 cup finely chopped green onions (include some of the green tops)
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1 tablespoon minced fresh marjoram or 1½ teaspoons crushed dried marjoram
½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
¾ cup dry bread crumbs
Cream Cheese Pastry Shells (recipe attached)

In a large skillet heat oil and butter. Saute mushrooms, parsley, and green onion 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and add salt, pepper, marjoram, cheese, and bread crumbs. Mix thoroughly and cool for 1 hour. Fill unbaked tart shells. (Tarts may be frozen at this point. Cover with plastic wrap and then aluminum foil and freeze unbaked.)
If baking right away, bake in a preheated 350-degree oven until filling bubbles and pastry is light brown (15 to 20 minutes). For frozen tarts, defrost 1 hour at room temperature and bake ina preheated 350-degree oven for 20-25 minutes.

Cream Cheese Pastry Shells
3 oz. cream cheese, softened
½ cup butter or margarine, softened
1 cup flour
¼ tsp. salt

Mix cream cheese and butter together. Add flour and salt; mix well. Chill dough 1 hour. Divide dough into 24 1-inch balls. Place balls in mini muffin tins or in tiny tart pans, pressing dough into sides and bottoms. Cover and chill while preparing filling. For unfilled, baked tart shells, bake them in a preheated 400-degree oven until lightly brown on the edges (10 to 15 minutes).

more underwater wisdom

Have you ever done some dumb thing repeatedly? Have you ever done the same dumb thing so many times and gotten away with it that you didn’t think it was dumb anymore? I did this yesterday … the same dumb thing I’ve done countless times … and paid a price. Fortunately, my it didn’t make anyone sick, but the thought that it could have made my tummy twist.

There is an old family recipe for macaroni and cheese that we love. Countless times I’ve made it, put it in a super-heated oven and left it to be eaten later. The super-heated oven itself is ill advised. I fire that baby up to about 500 for 10 minutes then turn it off and leave the house, mac baking inside. Very dumb. WHAT IF I FORGOT TO TURN OFF THE OVEN!

But yesterday I put a few twists on my own stupidity. Firstly, I left the casserole sitting longer than I usually do … closer to two hours than the usual one. Secondly, I didn’t super heat it in the oven. I mixed it up and left it, then microwaved it when we got home. The very first bite I knew something was off … and the 7-year-old had already sucked down an entire bowl!

“Is that Arizona Green Tea I just drank giving this a funk in my mouth or does everyone’s taste funky?” I asked. Everyone but the 7-year-old agreed. (I don’t think he tasted that first helping!) “STOP EATING!” I declared as a flash of the five of us fighting over our three toilets streaked across my brain. “We’ll find something else.”

Table cleared and dinner disposed of, yogurt and Christmas cookies was what we found … but we sat at the table and ate it together. Hubby’s impersonation of my panic flash had everyone in uproarious laughter and, by the end of the night all were tucked in sound asleep. It could have been much worse.

“Big dumb dumby head,” I kept saying to myself as I stuffed goodie bags and readied crafts for the classroom parties today. “Big dumb dumby head!” (Capt. Kindergarten watched Shark Tale twice while home sick … I just love when Angie calls Oscar a big dumb dumby head.) “It just goes to show you that no one is Super Mom," my internal dialogue continued. "Dumby Head. Oh well, we all make mistakes. BIG DUMB DUMBY HEAD!”

Everyone slept through the night without incident. But I’ve been scared straight, I tell ya’. No more cutting corners on food safety. If it weren’t bad enough watching my $5 go down the garbage disposal last night, I could have been watching the people I love most in misery from my culinary arrogance. To think I could trick the microscopic food spoilers was pure arrogance (clouded by a fog of holiday to-do-lists). So the next time I make something ahead it will go in the fridge where it belongs! After all, I’ve never cut such corners when I have guests, I’m meticulous about the rules when I have guests. Why wouldn’t I do the same for those I treasure above all else? Big dumb dumby-head.

jellyfishing

Jellyfishing. It’s my most favoritest part of watching SpongeBob with the kids. That sweet little rectangle romping through the fields “la la la laaa la lala.” There’s nothing but a huge smile and the pure joy of living drawn on his exaggerated face. He’s trying to whisp up a jellyfish in his net, just for the fun of it. Personally, jellyfishing is an internal thing. It’s the best I can express what happens when I find myself unable to sit down and type. Thoughts flitting through my days, a smooth up-and-down flip. They are not solid. They are not liquid. They are not gaseous (Thank goodness!), but they are temporary and simply must be grabbed lest they be lost.

This is how my brain has worked in the holiday crush, which has been clouded by sickness. The second-grader and I are having a little contest: Who will be the last man standing? This idea that if I should get sick he will win gets him to put up his hood … zip his coat … wear long sleeves. (I am winning … hood, zip, sleeves … YES!) But just as Capt. Kindergarten perked up Hubby went down with some kind of 24-hour (maybe 39-hour?) virus. Then The Little Lady Third Grade landed on antibiotics. Fortunately, she loves to read and so dozed in and out with “Sorcerer’s Stone” in her lap most of the day. With all this up-and-downing, no one felt much like eating.

I realized somewhere in the middle of doing it that I had taken several consecutive meals standing at the kitchen counter crafting and gnashing and not really knowing what I was eating or how much of it. I looked at the kitchen table, a mélange of homework, to-do lists and newspapers and tried to remember the last time we all sat there together. I was very disappointed in myself.

A few days later the table was set. Company was coming and we have a tradition of doing a little something extra together as a Christmas Dinner. There was real silverware and actual plates, not just the snack wrappers as in the times of the illnesses. These settings shone atop a crisply ironed tablecloth. We all sat together and our friend visited with the kids as they drank their milk from wine glasses and used their knives properly. When they were done it was off for a weekend dose of TV while the adults lingered over their own beef stroganoff and caught up.

Another whispy jellyfish crossed my brain: Sometimes it’s nice to make a big deal out of things that you do together often. Kathy comes over about once a month. She’s part of the family, so going casual is no problem … but there’s just something underneath when you’ve taken a few small steps to make it different, special, celebratory. It was just the kick in the butt I needed to remind me to slow down the holiday train and pull into a little station called HOME.

Then a jellyfish: The holidays are meant to be spent with family and friends, yet we get so busy preparing for these extended celebrations we slip, fall out of basic patterns or back-off of new commitments so as to find the time to meet the demands we place on ourselves. Somewhere in preparing for this time of important connecting, I disconnected from what’s important to me … mealtime with my family, encouraging others to share mealtime with their families, the satisfaction found in simplicity.

“As much as possible, we should eat only as much as we need.
This is not to say that our meals cannot be festive,
nor even that we cannot have a true celebration at times;
but we should always strive for simplicity.”
—Charles E. Bouchard, O.P.

My kids have asked me to explain what "simplicity" or "simple" means and I’ve found it quite difficult. I don’t want to use the words plain or easy. Simplicity can be elegant. And “simple but elegant” is almost never easy! But my mom’s old recipe, a favorite for the five of us, a nice fresh loaf of bread, a table set with our regular dinnerware, schnazzed up by a tablecloth that spends most of its days in the closet, and best of all the company of a good friend. It was a most simple way to say: “So, this is Christmas.”

I hope these next days find you with that gleam in your eye, those grins that come as you watch your little ones learn your traditions, the joy in celebrating the simple satisfaction of connecting.

My Mom’s Beef Stroganoff
1 lb. round or sirloin steak cut into strips*
2 Tbsps. flour
¼ cup butter or margarine
Garlic powder to taste
1 tsp. salt
Pepper to taste
½ cup chopped onions
2 tsps. Worcestershire sauce
1 cup beef bouillon
1 4-oz. can sliced mushrooms with liquid
¼ cup sliced stuffed green olives
1 cup sour cream

Over medium heat melt butter or margarine on a large skillet. Dredge meat in flour and brown in butter or margarine. Add onions when meat is turned to brown second side. Add seasonings, beef bouillon liquid and Worcestershire. Let this cook slowly over low heat for about 60 to 90 minutes. Watch so the liquid doesn’t boil over or cook out … water may be added.** (Cooking time is shorter if you use sirloin.) When the meat is tender, add the mushrooms and their liquid as well as the olives, just to heat. Last add the sour cream, a little at a time, and mix well. Just cook long enough to heat the sour cream. Serve over broad noodles.

*I bought “top round breakfast steaks” this time and it made prep faster. They are sliced very thin and I just cut them into narrow strips.

**The original recipe called for cooking sherry, but Mom never used it. Sometimes I do, just for a change, or I’ll throw in a little dry red wine if there is some left behind in a bottle from a previous meal.

P.S.—Thanks to Hubby … the SpongeBob to my Squidward, for pushing me back up on the blogging horse. It’s hard to jellyfish without a net … and it’s hard to type when you don’t put your fingers on the keys. As always, much love to you.

felled

Poor little guy. He stayed home yesterday with a fever and the blobs. I think he left the sofa twice in about seven hours. This morning he woke up again with a fever and the doctor just now said strep throat with a double ear infection. Can you imagine? And he hasn’t complained once about anything hurting! Antibiotics are flowing freely. He should be himself by this time tomorrow, but I’m going to just keep him home until Monday. I wonder what the odds are I’ll have someone else home with me that day.

As for me, I’m using his down time to stick close, but get some housework done. He’s on the sofa and I’m six steps away cleaning the freezer, fridge, pantry and then the rest of the kitchen. YUCK! But, it must be done. And it gives me an idea of what we’re not eating. Inevitably I find a wildly out-of-date product in the back of the pantry … a bag of chips that floated into Never-Neverland only to become unimaginably stale … a something-new I wanted to try but never did, now it’s trash. Yoiks! The whole place sounds like a science experiment, I know, but it’s also a disorganized mess. Perhaps before and after pictures are in order. All this shuffling also allows me to take inventory of my baking supplies before I begin putting together my holiday gift baskets. For instance, I had no idea I’m completely out of brown sugar, but I have more than 10 pounds of flour. Yipes! (They like homemade calzone, so I use a lot of flour.) What do you share at the holidays? Until I can get back to my focus, I’ll leave you with this quote from a Time article (June 4, 2006). I found it ticklish, but telling. What do you think?

“If it were just about food,
we would squirt it into their mouths with a tube.
A meal is about civilizing children.
It’s about teaching them to be a member of their culture.”
--Robin Fox, anthropologist, Rutgers University

chipping out of the ice block

Whew! Well, they’re finally back to school! We managed the list I posted last week fairly well, accomplishing Nos. 2, 3 (twice), 4, 5, 9 (twice) and 10 (twice). Better than my usual performance on a to-do list! And, I must confess, Harry Potter was substituted into all of the movie spots … thank you ABC Family channel! We even tried a new recipe, and I’ve added massrecipes.com to the finders section of the sidebar, thanks to a friend.

Now my thoughts have returned to the New Year and what I hope to get done. I made the mistake last night of telling a karate instructor how I was hoping to try his class after the first of the year. He thought this was a bad idea, to wait, so I’ll be trying it tomorrow night. Wish me luck! It’s a cardio class and I am not very co-ordinated! But these new habits I’m trying to create made me wonder … why are bad habits so hard to break and good habits so hard to make?

Quitting smoking was hard … sleeping in instead of working out is easy. Eating more fruit is hard … eating more pie is easy. Which brings me to one of the many benefits experts have found for families who eat together regularly: Adolescent and teenaged girls who frequently share mealtime with their families are less likely to fall into unhealthy habits and possible eating disorders.

"Family meals … provide a place for modeling healthy behaviors and make it easy to make healthy food choices,” said Dr. Dianne Neumark-Sztainer, author of I’m, Like, SO Fat! Helping your teen make healthy choices about eating and exercise in a weight-obsessed world. She adds that family mealtime provides “an opportunity to talk about things other than weight, and a place for talking, listening, and sharing.”

For breakfast the day after Thanksgiving, my 7-year-old son and I shared some pumpkin pie. My kids routinely see me snack on less-than-healthy choices … but my 5-year-old son has asked me for years: “Are you having the usual for lunch, Mommy?” After inspecting the countertop and finding the bagged lettuce, cherry tomatoes, etc. He’ll say, “Yup. Salad. The usual,” and tell me what he wants for lunch. When the three of them found out I’ve got a Mom’s night Friday they did a “Daddy Dinner! No Veggies!” dance of joy.

But the 8-year-old takes salad in her lunchbox. The 7-year-old will grab a banana when he comes in from the bus. And Mr. 5 can be found with a box of raisins if I have them in the house.

So I guess what I’m getting at is this … as I think about what I hope to improve upon next year I might as well start changing now. And as I think about what I hope to improve, I need to start by acknowledging what I just might be doing right ... a hard thing for a lot of moms I know.

So if you already eat together regularly, I’d love to hear how you manage. If you can get your kids to eat a balanced diet, I’d love to know your secret weapons. And if you can get your husband to try new recipes, or step into the kitchen, or do some of the shopping, I’d like to hear how you do that, too. I’ll be happy to share some of my husband’s great grilling tips once the four inches of ice has melted off the top of his Weber kettle!