Sit mens sana in corpore sano

The Spartans believed in a healthy mind in a healthy body. Shouldn't we embrace that basic tenet as Americans?

Mushy brain in a mushy body is more like it.

What's for Dinner

While I make a hearty home cooked meal (almost) every night, I'm often flying by the seat of my too tight pants. I find myself subbing walnuts for pine nuts or simply doing without ingredients because I didn't have my shopping shit together. My paltry pantry pinches my panties in a pickle. And there goes my culinary mojo. Down the drain with the grease (Kidding! Don't ever ever put grease down the drain, people!!!).

I've decided to try a new MO this week. I'm not committing to a WHOLE. YEAR. like a resolution or anything. I'm talking a lousy week here, folks. Not even all seven days; I'm just thinking about the six days that I'm usually flying solo and wondering who the hell granted me my motherhood license in the first place.

This week I'm planning my menu. For the whole week. I perused cookbooks, websites, my recipe box (yes, I have a splattered old recipe box), and the clipped magazine cutouts stuck to the only magnetic side of my smudged stainless steel fridge that is practically tucked behind the cabinetry and hard to access. Note to self: Must add those recipes to aforementioned box.

So here's how our menu is stacking up at Chez Dirt & Noise:

Sunday:
Proscuitto wrapped salmon with herbed lentils and spinach, roasted endive, balsamic marinated strawberries, bananas foster (Thank you, Jamie Oliver!)

Monday:
Baked chicken drumsticks with carrots, black olives, lemon, roasted parsnips, baked maple apples, cheesy garlic bread, ice cream (The boys chose Neopolitan.)

Tuesday:
Proscuitto and goat cheese risotto, spinach salad with craisins, walnuts, homemade dijon/orange vinaigrette (We don't do bottled dressing here. Why bother when the homemade stuff is oh so easy and exponentially more tasty?)

Wednesday:
Fish tacos with avocado and cabbage/cilantro slaw, chili/cumin corn, black beans

Thursday:
Tofu stir fry with broccoli and snow peas, brown rice, sliced pears

Friday:
Homemade pizza with whole wheat crust, raw sugar snap peas and apple slices (Finger food fun!)


I actually went to the grocery store on Sunday to stock up for the week. I normally go to the store or farmer's market 3-5 times a week, depending on what kitchen fantasy strikes me. My goal is not to cut down my shopping trips, but it would be a nice byproduct (particularly for Deal, who gets dragged from Trader Joe's to Costco to Kroger to Harris Teeter umpteen times a week). I simply want less frenzy in the witching hours when Bird is cranking out homework and Deal goes from Mr. Congeniality to Commander Crankypants. And, it seems, the dog rings the dang bell to pee 600 times whilst I make dinner. Lark's small bladder makes the risotto a risky proposition considering the constant attention and stirring that dish needs. Alas, I shall persevere.

I Get Around.

Lest you think me a slacker, I figured I'd share some other tidbits I've been writing. While Dirt & Noise is my home in this web of a well, The Web, I do settle my boots to dry in other equally inviting spots. None, however, so out of OSHA filth and decibel level standards as this honky tonk.

From my Foodie Mama Outpost:
Check out one of my new favorite dishes that hails from my very own kitchen. Now beware, I don't really use precise measurements so don't curse me if you can't cook and muck this up with your own messed up teaspoons and metric conversions. If you just cook with your gut and trust your hunches, you'll serve up some splendid suppers.

Gnocchi. Butternut Squash. Mmmmmm.....


And those uber cool women at Silicon Valley Moms actually let lil ol' moi contribute to their regional blog, Deep South Moms. You'll see that I do an inordinate amount of bitching over there. It's all easier to swallow if I end each post with "Bless her heart."


Here's what I had to say about what I think is the worst part of parenting.

Baba Ghanouj from Scratch

Here's a recipe I posted a while back on Foodie Mama. It's a real crowd pleaser, and since we're still in for a few more days of entertaining, I figured I'd pass this along. Have some red wine or Sambuca on hand.


I'm from the kind of family who travels for food. We talk about what we ate 12 years ago at a mom n' pop place in Palm Springs, the extraordinary apple strudel we had in Heidelberg, the ostrich we enjoyed in Walnut Springs, the eisbein we shared at a neighborhood pub in Berlin. We talk about food. A lot. Chances are our dinner conversation revolves around what we ate once upon a time or what we're going to eat next. In my family food is the great equalizer among us.

And now my sons chime right in. They share memories of eating with their fingers while watching the belly dancers at the Moroccan restaurant in Savannah, squishing the injera at the Ethiopian restaurant, gasping in awe at the flaming haloumi in Chicago, squealing at chef's knife tricks at the habachi grill, and tossing the crawfish tails into the hole cut into the table at the Crab Shack on Tybee Island. Bird and Deal clamor to visit places like Hawaii, Italy, India, and France just to try the local flavors that we talk about. Their latest kick is Greece. The boys don't know this yet, but Mac Daddy and I are trying to swing a family trip to Greece next year to celebrate our tenth anniversary.

In the mean time, we have to settle for the Greek delights we can find in our fair city. Since no one's baba ghanouj is up to snuff, I've tried my hand at making it myself. I have no idea if it's authentic but I do know it tastes damn good.

Baba Ghanouj

• 1 large eggplant or 2 small eggplants
• 2 cloves garlic
• 3/4 cup tahini (You can make it, but I just buy it to keep things simple.)
• juice of 1 lemon (Fresh lemon is imperative! I will totally hold it against you if you use the stuff that comes in the plastic lemon shaped bottle.)
• drizzle of olive oil
• teaspoon cumin
• pinch of cayenne
• handful flat leaf parsley
• salt to taste

Score the eggplant several times and roast at 350 degrees for about an hour. Let it cool. Scrape out the meat, seeds and all, from the eggplant into a food processor. No skin or stem! Add the rest of the ingredients. Pulse until it becomes the consistency of creamy dip. A few chunks are okay so don't over process or the baba ghanouj lest it turns out too runny. Serve in a bowl garnished with a few black olives and sprigs of parsley. Cut pita bread into wedges and serve along with some carrot sticks, cucumber slices, or whatever crudite tickles your fancy.

I happened to use a Ninja Kitchenfor my baba ghanouj.

Full disclosure here: I got to go on a blogger junket to New York to see the Food Network's Robin Miller demonstrate the many uses of the Ninja Kitchen. I was lucky enough to get one for free so I have waved buh-bye to my old blender and food processor. The Ninja Kitchen makes perfect dip, smoothies, soups, and all kinds of other stuff. I will tell you that former attempts at making baba ghanouj resulted in the wrong consistency so the Ninja Kitchen worked perfectly for me. A blender definitely won't cut it.

Opa!

Ace of Cakes Cake Bakery Flops

Alternate Title: Let Them Bake Cake!


There's nothing like a little Food Network to bring a family together. Other than Phineas & Ferb, it sure beats the other crap on TV that is fit for kids' consumption (not to be confused with the consumption of kids, which would just be plain creepy and disgusting).

I happen to love food. I could watch the Food Network 24/7, and for those times that I am holed up in bed with a fever, I do just that. But let's be real, no mother with a fever gets to hole up in bed; no rest for the weary as they say. I don't know who "they" are, but they sure do know what they're talking about. If there's one thing I want to impart to my sons, it's a love of food. I want them to see that food is about so much more than sustenance. It's tradition, culture, adventure,

The boys like to watch the Food Network Challenge. We don't much care about the wacky burger recipes or food styling competitions. Bring on the cake challenges! The next best thing to eating cake is watching the pros making cake. It's good fun to see the extreme decorating and smoking, spinning whatchamacallits. We teeter with tension when it's time to move the cake to the judging table. We all hiss at the mere sight of sugarcraft hall of famer Kerry Vincent. She's like the pinch nosed Simon Cowell of Food Network Cake Challenge.

The one show we all love best (though Mac Daddy would still put anything with Giada in it at the top of his list), is Ace of Cakes. I've been a huge fan since before Duff, Geof, and Mary Alice were household names. I can't bake worth a lick so I live vicariously through the team at Charm City Cakes. What I really want is to share a whole mess of 5:00 Fridays with the crew and laugh until my jaws ache. I also really want to chow down on all those carved off bits of cake (The waste is criminal! All that lost cake...sigh.). Bird, Deal, and I gasp whenever we see those carved off hunks of delectable cake brushed into the garbage. Cake!

Bird and Deal like to pretend to make and decorate cakes. They use Kapla blocks, LEGO, cardboard remnants. Then Deal grabs the toy mayonnaise squirter from the toy kitchen and pretends it's frosting. He conjures up all kinds of wacky odds and ends to manufacture his own brand of gum paste. Bird was doing his homework the other day and asked me how to spell "fondant." The boys love to play Ace of Cakes. Bird is always Duff (the boss, no surprise there), Deal assumes the role of Geof, and I am Mary Alice despite my whining to be Elena since our names are so much alike. Mac Daddy is always Ben, particularly fitting on Sundays when he hasn't shaved all weekend. Whenever we see a dalmatian Deal is relieved that Duff isn't around because he apparently has a fear of dalmatians. And yes, Deal even mentioned this to the fire chief on a recent field trip to the local station.

I have been thinking about getting the boys some sort of Ace of Cakes present for Christmas. Perhaps this. But not this.

Now take a moment to click on those links or the rest of this post won't make a lick of sense to you. Go on. I'll wait.

<Insert Jeopardy music here.>

Jeopardy waiting music sound bite

I find it pretty disappointing that Duff, a tough yet affable guy who bakes cakes for a living, is supporting a product so clearly geared toward girls. Does he really want to limit his brand like that? Does he really want to turn off (and away) all the boys who finally have society's permission to explore the kitchen? For starters, the company is Girl Gourmet. The colors, while not treacly pink, are decidedly girly and definitely not unisex. Bird and Deal would have loved this toy, but the packaging would be a big pee-ewww (best said with your nose plugged for full effect). And sure, being the liberal progressive mom that I am, I should go ahead and buy it. And I just might. But that's not my point.

I'm wondering why such a toy is targeted just to girls in the first place. As if the pink irons and dishes and brooms aren't bad enough. The toy aisles are clearly demarcated by a gender line these days. Girls engage in domesticity while boys flirt with violence. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find a gender neutral play kitchen and accessories for my kids? And pink tools in the aisles of Sears and Home Depot and Lowes?! Don't get me started. Alas, I have already started. Who's sponsoring the time travel back to 1952 trip here? Is Dr. Laura lurking around the exhibit booths of the Toy Fair, saddling manufacturers and buyers with subliminal messages of feminine obedience and servitude? Girls should be encouraged to do more than cook and clean, no? If anything, boys could use some bolstering in that department. I live with three of them. I should know.

Food Safety: Caveat Emptor

"Caveat Emptor: is one of the many phrases I remember from my early days of Latin in the esteemed Dr. Larrick's class. (Sidebar: Every student should have been lucky enough to have had Dr. Larrick. He continues to inspire students in ways few can. Teaching is a gift. One that he keeps on giving. And for that we are thankful.) Anyhoo, "Caveat Emptor" is of course the commerce principle that means the buyer assumes the risk. It translates to "Let the buyer beware." We generally think of this in terms of purchasing cars, property, and pretty much anything from eBay, Craigslist, or the classified section (that is, if anyone still lists and buys stuff that way these days).

I never thought Caveat Emptor would apply to the food I buy.

We take leaps of faith everyday. We trust that the drivers among us will stop when the light is red. We trust our children's schools are secure. We trust that the bank protects our money. We trust that our municipality's water reading is accurate. We trust our cribs are tested and our toys lead-free. We trust the food stocked upon market shelves is safe.

Thanks to the likes of Stewart Parnell, the infamous Salmonella Peanut King, consumers can no longer afford to take a leap of faith when it comes to food purchases. The FDA has long been riddled with powerlessness and plagued with inefficiencies. Food safety, and in effect consumer wellness, has been on the back burner. It seems to me that we as a nation have focused more on making a buck and pulling a fast one on consumers than protecting public health. I'm thinking of the policies and attitudes of a certain eight years in the all-too-recent-past. Ahem. The FDA, through years of neglect and failure to modernize itself, has floundered in protecting us.

Well finally, in a bipartisan leap, the food safety bill looks like it's making headway to overhaul the FDA. Despite the fact that the Senate looks like it will wait until next year to address it, the bill is still getting some much deserved attention. It's at least a starting point. Slow but steady, right? The FDA, the government organization upon which we rely to ensure the food we consume is safe, has had puny resources to actually to its job, making us take leaps of faith in the grocery aisle, off restaurant menus, and in school cafeterias without even knowing it.

Spinach. Peanuts. Cookie dough. Ground beef. Chicken. Pet food.

Pretty basic items on any grocery list, right?

E. coli. Salmonella. Listeria.

I bet those aren't on your shopping list.


So where do we go from here?

Until our government gets rolling on passing and implementing this new food safety bill, it behooves us all to exercise Caveat Emptor in every food purchase we make. Even buying local, organically produced food does not guarantee it's safe for consumption.

Note that I write this a mother, a cook, a consumer. I'm not a pundit, a biologist, a lawyer, a lobbyist, or a politician. And my bet is that if you're not either, you too don't care about the in-fighting. We simply want to trust that the food we serve our children is not tainted. Food is sustenance, and should not be suspect.


Check out these resources for more information.
Safe Tables
@SafeTables on Twitter
Sign up for eAlerts about food recalls.
FDA food safety


PS
Thanks to Senator Dick Durbin of Illinois, Mike Taylor, advisor to the FDA Commissioner, Safe Tables and the fine bloggers (@GloPan, @punditmom, @morningsidemom, @soapboxmom, @jippert) who joined in on an informative call last week about food safety. Cheers to good health instead of just wealth!

Wordless Wednesday: Breakfast Made By My Biggest Fan

Wordless Wednesday: Move Over, Martha, Rachel, & Giada

5 Fruits & Veggies a Day: Snap To It!

In our family we play a little game everyday that my four-year old son has dubbed "Five In." We count our fruit and vegetable intake to ensure we get five servings a day. It's quite easy to do actually. Luckily the boys are great eaters, we live in a city with an excellent farmers market, we have Farmer Tom's CSA, and I love to cook.

I swear we eat more snap peas than any household in America. I would add blueberries, anchovies, black olives, capers, smoked salmon, mangoes, and blintzes to that list. Not all mixed together, of course. But back to the snap peas. We nosh them raw, stir fry them with red onions, add them to salads, toss them into lunchboxes and picnic baskets, and now...

We have discovered a new way to jazz up snap peas, the ubiquitous green veggie to grace our crisper.

Zest a lemon and set aside. After rinsing off a colander full of fresh snap peas, toss them with some olive oil, the juice of one lemon, and sea salt. Roast at 425 degrees for about 20 minutes. While they are roasting, toss a cup of bread crumbs (I combined panko with sour dough bread crumbs.) with the zest of one lemon. Spread across top of snap peas and top with goat cheese crumbles. Continue to roast another ten minutes. Serve hot. You can substitute parmesan or feta cheese too. I assure you, this will be a family hit. We snacked on the cold leftovers while we cooked dinner the next night.

Now snap to it, folks!


Reposted from its original home at Foodie Mama.

Something's Turniping Me On

We are fortunate to participate in a CSA that showers us with an amazing locally grown, organic bounty of produce every week. Farmer Tom of Double T Farm takes good care of our bodies and our palates. The boys wait at the screen door to see what goodies are in my bag when I get home from Tom's local pick up spot. I empty my hemp bag emblazoned with "I love green!" on the front. I always chuckle, thinking to myself that "I love greens!" would be oh so much more appropriate.

Last week I brought home a veritable feast of green goodness. Every week elicits a culinary orgasm. I've been plowing through new recipes and cooking adventures, none of which involves meat. I'm not opposed to meat mind you. I crave an Inferno burger from MoJoe's time to time and even spice up the cholesterol intake by indulging in onion rings once in a while. Once. In. A. While. Neither my waistline nor my aging heart can handle that lack of nutritional integrity on a regular basis. But dang, my tastebuds need to be coddled every now and then. But I digress... For the last week or so I've been preparing vegetarian meals, not by choice but by happenstance. Our plates are so loaded with goodness that there's no room (and no need) to add anything else.

Believe it or not, turnips are a crowd favorite.

Turnips.

You heard me. I said TURNIPS.

T-U-R-N-I-P-S!

And most nights I don't even cook 'em.


Here's what I like to call my CSA Salad:

Quarter and thinly slice one large turnip into bite size pieces (by all means, save the greens to stir fry!). Peel and seed a cucumber. Slice into little bite size half moons. Now here comes my one cheater ingredient. Add one sliced avocado, cut into pieces that are uniform with the turnip and cuke. Add the zest of one lemon (stop grating at the yellow lest you get that bitter white pith!). Now add the juice of that lemon. Grate some fresh black pepper on top, give it all a gentle stir, and refrigerate for 30 minutes or so. Serve cold.

No salt. No oil. No Hidden Valley ranch.

I'm telling you, this crunchy goodness is a fine palate cleanser and compliments any meal. In fact, we just served it alongside an Indian feast of dal, palak paneer, and whole wheat naan. I added some chopped fresh cilantro to make it better suit the Indian flavors.

And no one missed the meat.



Cross posted at Foodie Mama.

Labeled

My husband and I love food. We love growing it, cooking it, shopping for it, watching it on TV (well, watching the chefs). We travel based on what delicacies we can sample. We once drove to Quechee, Vermont just to dine at The Simon Pearce Mill. The calamari salad there has made its way into our family's culinary lore. Our children have become miniature foodies by cultural osmosis.

Our five and three year old sons accompany us to various farmer's markets, delis, gourmet grocers, and pick-your-own farms we happen upon. They join me in my multiple trips to the grocery store each week. They hear me chat about food and often gripe about the safety of our food sources. Most importantly, they see me read labels.

I talk about what our family eats. We choose our veggies based on color. In fact, last night's dinner was brought to us by the color green (green curry chicken, snap peas, kiwi slices, stir fried rice w/ peas). I explain to them why I read labels. They know it takes me forever and a day to choose ketchup because I'm looking for a brand without high fructose corn syrup (by the way, no national brand fits the bill...shame on you Heinz and Hunt's!). The boys see me reading labels and naturally ask what I'm doing. I tell them that I'm looking for foods that aren't chock full of chemicals. They already know that we eat mostly organic foods, though in this economy we've limited it to dairy, eggs, and produce. They love visiting Farmer Tom to pick up our CSA veggies. They know I'm protecting them while nourishing them.

And so my sons, ages five and three, have words like high fructose corn syrup, nitrite, MSG, trans fat, and sodium in their vernacular. We talk about how our choices affect how our food tastes, how healthy our meals are, and most importantly, the planet. Sure, we eat our share of processed packaged junk on occasion, but the kids know it's a treat. We stick to fresh foods and eat three home cooked squares a day. It's a fine plan...until my kid comments in the school cafeteria that his classmate's high School Musical Trix yogurt is "junk." Clearly I gotta work on tact, decorum, and context.

Cross posted at Foodie Mama.

Taste This!

I have been a cooking fiend the last few days. I serendipitously received a new cookbook on my doorstep last Friday. I generally read cookbooks like they're novels. I pore over them in the bookstore, thumb through dogeared pages among the racks at used bookstores, and spend hours gazing at recipes online. On rainy days I curl up with a cup of Tension Tamer tea and browse through a stack of cookbooks. I clip recipes from the likes of Cooking Light , Food & Wine , Cookie , Bon Appetit , and Southern Living, all of which arrive in my mailbox monthly. You know what? I never make a single recipe.

I use cookbooks, recipes in general really, as inspiration. I don't measure a thing and am fond of substitutions when the recipe calls for something I don't have on hand and can't manage a trip to Harris Teeter. I joke that I am the queen of "kitchen sink cooking;" I can muster up a great meal with a dash of this and a dollop of that, whatever lurks in the back of the pantry or in the bowels of the freezer are fair game. I consult a recipe just to get ideas for spice blends, cooking times, food pairings, or menu options. It is rare that I cook with a book propped open.

Until I discovered Taste This! by Gina Von Esmarch.

I was immediately drawn to the photographs. I hate when cookbooks don't have pictures. It must be a Pavlovian thing. I made three things out of Gina's cookbook over the weekend, improvising just a tish, as any creative cook is wont to do. Let me tell you, this is the first time in my life that what I cooked turned out exactly like it looked in the picture. I'm telling you, her photos could have very well been from my own little kitchen.

Here's what I cooked up:
Chicken Jerusalem, delectable shredded chicken and artichoke hearts in a wine and cream sauce served over rice. I added garlic and used gewurtraminner since I was plum out of sherry. In a rare twist, we didn't have leftovers. Deal even asked for some the next day for lunch. It's been only three days, and Mac Daddy is asking for this dish again. Sure signs of a family keeper, no?

Parmesan Crisps, sourdough bread coated in finely grated, you guessed it Sherlock, Parmesan. Butter, bread, cheese. How could one go wrong?! We could barely stop nibbling on these while I was dishing up dinner. D.I.V.I.N.E. Gina has these babies in the appetizer section, but they are so good that you'll want to serve them with the main course too. I put them in a cool glass bowl on the table so we could help ourselves as we enjoyed our meal. I stopped counting at five. Like I said, butter, bread, cheese. Can you blame a girl?

Needle in a Haystack, chocolate candy, 'nuff said. Pretty much the only dessert I can make without screwing up is instant pudding. But I mastered these on the first try. Who knew chow mein noodles and chocolate are long lost soul mates? We devoured these. The best part? So easy and fun to make with the kids! I used half chocolate, half butterscotch chips. I added unsalted peanuts, mini marshmallows, and shredded coconut. The recipe recommends raisins too, but you know how I feel about those wrinkled has-been grapes. This treat is going to be my go-to recipe for school room mom duties, holiday gifts, block parties, you name it. Delish.

Think I'm gushing? Here are some family testimonials:

"This is the BEST haystack I've ever had!" exclaimed Deal, age 3.

Commenting on said treats, "I know a way to get rich, Mommy. Let's make and sell these!" remarked my entrepreneurial, if not somewhat cheeky, Bird, age 5.

What's so great about Taste This! is that there is nothing chi-chi about it, no trips to the fancy food show to track down obscure ingredients. Easy, family friendly, fast cooking. No chicken nuggets or other such crap posing as healthy kid fare. These recipes are family fare. You know me, no cooking two separate meals for parents and children. The whole family eats the same meal; I am not a short order cook (no short jokes, please). This cookbook is great for a seasoned cook and a kitchen greenie alike. The Finger Lickin' Chicken is next on my list.

Oh, want to get your hands on this too? Check it out .

I can't wait to try more from this cookbook. I have a feeling it's going to be dogeared and sauce splattered very soon.

Fondue is Fun to Do!

Who doesn't like to play with their food and dip their morsels into sauces of all kinds? Fondue is the perfect fun family meal. We map it all out so it's safe, mind you. And while I have germ issues of all kinds, I can roll up sleeves and get into some fondue. I'm eating family after all, not a bunch of strangers in a Swiss cafe.

We, with our Wisconsin roots, use cheese, not oil or broth. It's admittedly not as heart healthy, but what kid (or ahem, grown up) doesn't like cheese?! I melt the cheese on the stove top first (some crushed garlic, grated gruyere or swiss, a bit of flour, milk, white wine) and transfer it to the fondue pot with a lit tea light instead of the sterno stuff. Then I give each person a plate of bite size goodies to dip and devour.

Par steamed broccoli florets, sliced apples and pears, cubes of ham, chunks of sourdough bread, quarters of vidalia onions, snap peas, zucchini rounds. I also give the boys a ramekin of lemon garlic butter and a dijon vinaigrette (ranch dressing would be fine too) for dipping. They scarf down their veggies and have a blast playing with their food. Be warned, it is an ordeal simply choosing a fondue fork that is just the right color.

Melted chocolate in individual ramekins is a delightful end to a fondue dinner. We use strawberries, bananas, angel food or pound cake, madelines (those cakey French cookies that are amazing from Costco!), kiwi, pineapple chunks, and marshmallows.

The best part about fondue is that it's a lingering dinner, which means more family time.

Cross posted at Foodie Mama.

Word to Your Mother

Bird and Deal say so many things that astound me, for better or for worse. I am floored by their train of thought and rationale. Their little personalities are amplified by the things they say. Take for instance the other day:

Me, kissing Deal good night: "You are so sweet. You are going to be an amazing man one day."

Deal: "You mean when I am a daddy?"

Me: "Yes, you will be an awesome daddy."

Deal: "Will I still live with you when I am a daddy?"

Me, chuckling: "No, you will live in your own house."

Deal: "Then I'll be your neighbor, Mommy."


And the next day, when Bird, Deal, and I were making and decorating cookies (also known as trashing my kitchen with flour and sprinkles and frosting):

It goes without saying that baking with a 5 and 3 year old is messy business (gross understatement of the year, emphasis on gross). And if you know me, you know that I abhor a mess. I braced myself for an evening of slinging flour and sprinkling colored sugar. I practically bought out the cookie decorating aisle at Target: green and red sugar, red, green, and white frosting, red and green sprinkles, silver dragees, and coated candy confetti in all the shapes of Christmas. I went to town rolling the dough, and the boys cut various holiday shapes. The counters, walls, and floor, not the mention all of us, were a veritable mess. It looked like Willy Wonka's store room exploded in my kitchen. And you know what? I didn't even freak out. For the first time in my life I went with the flow.

When we were done, Bird was gobbling up all the spilled sugars and sprinkles and such. He'd poke his sticky little finger into a pile of sugared confetti on the counter, pop it in his mouth, and replay. I must have been watching his precision scavenging for a good five minutes.

Bird, looking up at me with pure earnestness in his eyes (not the Eddie Haskell type of earnestness): "Technically Mommy, I am helping you clean up."


Proof once again, that is is indeed possible to render me speechless.

An Omnivore by Any Other Name

I love food. I love to shop for it, grow it, cook it, eat it, serve it. I read cookbooks like they're novels, yet I never follow a recipe. The Food Network is like porn (when Giada's on, Mac Daddy would agree.). I joke that on my deathbed if I am allowed one fantastic last meal or one last orgasmic romp in the hay, I'd take the food. For one thing, the meal would last longer. No disrespect to Mac Dady here, but you're all with me on this, right? Right?

My boys eat everything without even realizing they are being adventurous. We had chicken cordon bleu (with swiss cheese and proscuitto...panko makes all the difference here too), carrot souffle, and an avocado salad for dinner the other night. These kids eat like kings, I tell you. They have already developed an affinity for tasty delights such as manchego, sushi (and we all love the eel, City Mama!), cannolis, roasted eggplant, and dal. They abhor typical kids menu fare such as dinosaur shaped nuggets (the authenticity of the chicken is debatable), canned fruit cocktail, and fried macaroni and cheese (WTF?!).

We are lucky to have a picky eaters in the family. Bird does not like potatoes at all, and Deal has trouble with the stringyness of snap peas. Mac Daddy won't touch apple sauce, and I won't eat liver, lima beans, cherries, raisins, or black licorice. I guess on paper I am the pickiest one of all. Mac Daddy even ate pig brain on a trip to Vietnam. No worse than what's in those nuggets.

Now here's a fun meme from City Mama.

Here’s what I want you to do:

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten. (In my case, everything I've tried is in purple.)
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating. I can't figure out how to cross out so I made the font extra small.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at Very Good Taste linking to your results.

The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos Rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho 13.PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras (Never again.)
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi (My grown up lassi is here.)
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O (Last week's 5:00 Fridays post)
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut (A major benefit of living in Krisy Kreme's home state!)
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear (Does the jam count?)
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini (My favorite is with Hendrick's gin.)
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S'mores 62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst (One the best things about eating in Berlin!)
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill (That's what I think is in those chicken nuggets.)
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini (Wrote about that too.)
81. Tom Yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
2. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox (What my kids had for dinner last night as a matter of fact!)
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

An overdue girls' weekend, but first let me get the house in order...

So I'm heading to the beach tomorrow for a much anticipated (and after today's whine fest with no nap for Bird or Deal, a much needed!) girls' weekend. That means no husband, no kids, no cat, no relatives, no neighbors, no one I have to be nice to. My girlfriends usually bring out the best in me and won't care if I'm a wee bit bitchy anyway. If I complain too much they'll just pour me another margarita and ignore me until I can get back to important things like what color to paint my toenails.

This is so going to be Shag relived. However, this time daddy's bourbon won't be off limits, there will be no colonial homes to tour, and sweet potatoes like Jimmy Valentine won't be making out with any of us. There will, of course, be plenty of beevo.

Whenever I leave Mac Daddy with the kids I feel an overwhelming need to prepare the household for any possible thing that can go down. And by leaving, I mean for a night, a weekend, or a couple hours for a lousy tennis lesson. Being the guilt ridden mother/woman/wife that I am, I feel like I need to do whatever it takes to make Mac Daddy's life easier in my absence. Laundry (washed and dried but admittedly not folded and put away), fully stocked fridge (with fresh ice for the Elijah Craig that Mac Daddy will surely need at the end of every day), at least one meal prepared, fruit washed, clothes set out, and fresh towels hung. Would it be overboard to program the coffee maker so Mac Daddy can wake up to some French Roast brewing (organic and fair trade, natch)?

OK, so the clothes bit is just so Bird and Deal don't look like total ragamuffins while I'm gone. One time Mac Daddy took the kids to work with him when I was sick, and Deal's outfit was on backwards. Mac Daddy never stopped to wonder why all that extra fabric was hanging in the front while the back pulled tautly over a size 4 diaper.

Other than some poor judgment in the fashion department, Mac Daddy is perfectly capable of managing our household and the boys. In fact, between you and me, he really does more than I do. Mac Daddy is not of those (lame) guys who calls caring for his own children "babysitting." Before we were married Mac Daddy kept a perfectly tidy house, cooked for me, and even invested in furniture that didn't require assembly. So why the need for me to stress out and get everything in order?

I recall the time when my parents were separated and my mom used to travel two hours each way on weekends just so she could cook a week's worth of meals for us. I have no idea how long this arrangement was in place but I do know that those weekends were pretty damn long and chock full of anxiety. I also recall our fair share of Stouffers frozen lasagna and baked apples on the table. I'm sure my folks did what they thought was best for us, and I give them a lot of credit for making it work. At the end of the day, my brother and I turned into pretty good citizens and stewards of our legacy. We have our parents to thank for that. Perhaps it is this act of sacrifice of those weekends so long ago that drive me to get my house in order while I'm away.

But here's my question: Do any husbands out there feel the need to do the same when they leave the roost? Mac Daddy, fabulous and irreplaceable as he is, has never left me with a gallon of milk and dinner prepared before he heads out for a business trip (aka boondoggle). Oh wait, there was that one time he had dinner delivered as a surprise. He would totally call me on that one lapse so it's a good thing it just struck me. Emphasis on one time...keep in mind that he travels an awful lot.

Do daddies out there leave a weekend's worth of clothes laid out, a fully stocked diaper bag, emergency diaper bag in the car in case daddy forgets the one at home, beer and juice boxes in the fridge, and a nutritious dinner that includes no trans fat or high fructose corn syrup ready to heat and serve? Does anyone out there think about ways to make a mom's life easier?

I guess that's Luca Pachina's job.