human nature continued

As we continue to look at Human Nature this week, I thought I would share a few observations from our trails around the neighborhood.
 1.  Headbutting is instinctual.  I didn't realize this.  I thought you learned to headbutt from watching rated R movies, or maybe goats sparring on the mountain-top.  My 2 year old has seen neither of these enactments and has used the move several times on me and little Verity.  No broken noses as it seems to be more of an experimental gesture.  Unnerving regardless. 
2.  It really does take a village.  We were out for a walk, minding our own business- all three of us probably brooding on the tantrum that had recently occured, when a car drives up behind us beeping repeatedly and flagging me down.  Oh, I guess he REALLY needs directions!  I start to walk over, he rolls down the window and yells to me that Verity, who is peacefully slumbering in the baby-carrier backpack, is "leaning back!!!!".  First, confusion.  Then, annoyance.  Finally, smile and nod.  Thank you, kind sir in the black Lexus SUV.  You missed the golden moment of intervention when we were leaving the house with a toddler sprawled across the porch.   
3.  Mushroom Bourguignon on a Tuesday evening is not only worth the sacrificial cup of wine you could have been sipping on, but it also does wonders for soothing spirits and tempers after a long day.  (Perelman,  pg. 151)  Hopefully whipping out the old college footnote will distract you from the fact that I am still cooking with Smitten Kitchen.  :)

writing aloud

I should never start a post at the end of nap time, but that is exactly when it seems to be the perfect time to do so.  I've had a little rest, I've had a cup of tea, I haven't broken the silence, (unless I've been on the phone with my sister) and it seems like I finally might have it within me to write something aloud.  I'm keeping it short these days, as you can see, but it has made this whole thing far less intimidating.  One of my professors said once, "write even just one sentence a day".  Thanks for that Ms. Marshall.  And like cooking, writing is keeping me company these days.

Thoughts on Soda

Recently I told a couple of my friends that I'm blogging again.  They dutifully checked things out and offered generally pleasant remarks and positive feedback.  You can expect this from friends.  "I didn't know you liked to bake!" They say.  And I hee and haw a bit and ask myself, "Do I like to bake?"  And if I'm talking to myself, I say no, not particularly.  This comes as no surprise.  I mean who tries to make half a cake?  Along with discovering my former fascination with Everyday Food, I also saw that for Eric's birthday one year I tried to cut a cake recipe in half.  Isn't that bizarre?  I mean, if I was so worried about having too much cake, why couldn't I have invited someone over or fed it to a hungry dog?  I'm not sure, but I think that will forever exclude me from the category of baker.  I've improved a bit over time as I'm no longer halving recipes so much anymore. 

So what am I doing then?  Nothing really, just writing about things that I'm experiencing and for the most part I've kept it to the kitchen.  But, tonight I didn't make dinner because my sweet nephew who is now seven is here for a sleepover.  We went out for burgers and fries and soda and one refill.  Soda is now "fizzy" instead of "spicy" as he used to call it at four years of age.  This distinction made me sad but, according to some, childhood doesn't really commence until the age of seven.  I take great comfort in that.  Oh, there is so much more on my mind and somehow the soda got me there.  Don't laugh.  I'm being serious and I haven't been this introspective in a long time.  You see, I have a friend who has a long, uphill journey to climb.  Am I mixing metaphors?  In a short amount of time she finds herself without a husband, employment and a place to live.  And yes, there is a person who stands in a position to make an enormously positive impact on this woman's circumstances.   Charity is needed.  Generosity is necessary.  It could be clothed in other more less-direct (indirect) ways.  But that is the truth of it, as I see it.  And this can make a lot of people, including myself, feel really uncomfortable.  So, I'm trying to decide how dirty do I want to get my hands.  Anyway, I'll stop there.  Well, you asked!  Oh wait, no you didn't.  If I had a really beautiful picture I would insert it here to lighten the mood.  :)  Thanks for listening.  

Wednesday falls on today.

It is not Friday night that I have to fight the urge to order-in, buy loads of sushi or anything hot, expensive and ready-made, it is Wednesday night -which falls on today.  It is a night when I'm too tired to make the pizza that would be met with gleeful shouts.  A night when I want to eat something delicious and I want someone else to make it for me.  Any suggestions?  I guess I have a plan, although I would like to complain a bit longer.  At the Cambridge Winter Farmers Market on Saturday, along with getting our knives sharpened(!!!) and buying cheap mussels, we found a local vendor selling ravioli.  There were LOTS of varieties to choose from but we settled on the Pear, Prosciutto & Gorgonzola.  I'm never the one to order ravioli at a restaurant even if they are filled with fresh lobster meat because I like to eat more than four pieces of pasta in one sitting, but these look promising.  Plus they are hand made by someone other than me.  :)

 Naomi happen to match the pasta so I left her in.  My computer wasn't working well and she thinks it might be a flat tire.

me bespoke

What do you think of the new title?  Clearly I needed a new one.  I met a friend out for a drink a couple of weeks ago and at the top of the bar menu was written, Bespoke Cocktails.  I've been entranced by the word ever since.  It means tailored, or tailor-made, among other less romantic definitions.  I'll lift the veil and tell you that the original title was a newlywed tribute to Eric's thesis.  We've been doing some growing since then and I don't think he needs my blog title anymore to spur him on to greater heights.  So, I'm going to sit with this one for a bit. 

moules frites, three years better

Omg, I was completely obsessed with Martha Stewart's Everyday Food magazine.  And, I apologize.  I forgive you self.  Seriously, that was crazy to read some oldie posts.  I went back looking for the first time we cooked mussels and found it along with way too many references to Everyday Food.  Umm, next time I do that, please tell me.  We made them (mussels) again last night and blew our first attempt out of the water, three years later.  Because for one -we used an actual recipe, and two -we made some frites to go on top.  Don't skip the frites.  I know I'm getting close to overdoing it on the Smitten Kitchen Cookbook references, but I did get the recipe there, coincidentally.  :)

Sunday night, please don't leave me.   

something for you, something for me

Today I put my daughter in line to exchange a Valentine's Day card with Curious George.  This costumed adult was probably four times the size of the "real" Curious George which made me wonder why they didn't just use a puppet.  Understandably, she looked stunned.  I walked away feeling sheepish and a little embarrassed that I had taken part in the commercialization of the holiday.  But then she wouldn't put down her Valentine, kept smiling at it, nibbling on it and asking where Curious George was.  Okay fine, no harm done.  Plus, I got us each something to pass the afternoon.   :)

an everyday cake

It came, it snowed, it went.  After the weekend retreat the pantry is dismally bare.  What to make, what to make.  Olive oil ricotta cake!  It sounds so odd, but it tastes so good.  I hope Smitten Kitchen will forgive me just this once for copying this recipe out for you.  I might be able to call it an adaption since I baked it in a cast-iron skillet and omitted the concord grape coulis to drape over it. 
 
1 cup full-fat or fresh ricotta
1/3 cup olive oil
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp grated lemon zest
2 large eggs
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon table salt
confectioners' sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  In a large mixing bowl whisk together the ricotta, olive oil, sugar and lemon zest.  Add the eggs one at a time, whisking well after each one.  Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt together, right over the wet ingredients.  Mix with a spoon until just combined. 

Pour batter into a lightly greased 10" cast-iron skillet and bake for 30 minutes, until the top is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Let stand for 10 minutes and then invert onto plate. 

something to mark the days: blizzard and beef

It's snowing!!!  I didn't sleep well last night.  I kept waking up with fear that the storm was going to come early and I had yet to stock up at Whole Foods.  It did not come early and we made there and back safely.  So now I'm just tired.  But!  I have lots to be thankful for, including another adorable bag of flageolet beans, a fennel bulb AND some too-good-to-be-true stewing beef!!!  I'm so grateful that there is meat inside our home and snow outside it.  Be gone you Big Mac commercial and let's give a warm welcome to some beef stew.  Beans tonight, beef tomorrow.  And, of course, more raspberry crumb bars.  

side note -a little bet has been waged on what the Boston Globe will headline this storm.  My husband thinks it is only a matter of time before we start reading "Blinding Nemo".  I'm not so sure.  Actually, I am sure.  I'm sure that he will be the only one to have coined this terrible pun.  I'll let you know who wins.    

more on February

I always seem to be minutes or months late on finding out about anything worth going to, she whines.  Seriously though.  My post-bedtime trips to the local bookstore usually get me there just in time for the conclusion of some intriguing Author Event.  Frustrating on its own, and doubly frustrating because all the fixtures are moved around, making my leisurely browse very difficult.  And then just moments ago I read that Deb Perelman, author of the Smitten Kitchen Cookbook, was at Fish's Eddy in NYC on December 11th for her book tour.  No big deal.  That is only my favorite store in the whole city.  (It used to be Anthroplogie in SoHo before it became a huge corporate chain that stole my creative license for two years.  Shop there, don't work there.  Trust me on this one.)  These are the precious moments that you don't get back, she continues to whine.  One of these days I'm going to be on the correct mailing list, check the correct website or show up at some book store moments before some magical event is about to begin.

Oh well.  Back to plotting my survival of February.  Homemade granola bars are helping.  I ate half the pan of the last batch so I'm off to make another, this time without the quarter cup of brown sugar.  They were a little on the sweet side.  It's another Barefoot recipe.  from Back to Basics.  I think they are worth making.  Especially if you made your husband give up the store-bought ones by Nature Valley as soon as you came around. 

February detox

It's a typical Monday over here.  In the morning we go to this perfectly wonderful little play school.  This wears us all out completely.  We come back, I make lunch with one eye open, get Naomi and Verity set up for their naps and hit the couch moments later.  I then pry myself up to savor every last moment of the solitude in the upright position.  There are beans soaking on the stove to make my favorite Monday detox meal.  Black beans and brown rice with avocado, lime and salsa.  It was no January Juice but we did alright to separate ourselves from the holiday feasting in the new year.  As the month wore on we got a little slack.  Now its February and in our cupboards you can find conversation hearts, girl scout cookies and a half eaten bag of super bowl chips.  It is time to get back on the wagon.  Starting tonight.