In lieu of speaking

Today I blog because it will be my longest form of communication all day. My voice is gone. I finally succumbed to the nasty cold/respiratory THING that’s been plaguing the boys. It starts with a fever and then morphs into nasty, “my head must be 500 ft underwater because there’s so much pressure," throat on fire, sooo much phlegm, fun.

Moms aren’t supposed to get sick. Or, at least, when they do it’s absolutely no party. If this was fifteen years ago I’d be curled up in bed with some great books and a hot drink. It’s an introvert’s dream! But when you’re a mom…you don’t get that. There are still dishes to wash and meals to cook and runny noses to wipe and diapers to change.

If I could meet one Brit it would be Kate. She’s the most beautiful woman in the world, she’s a princess, and her kids are the same age as mine. I bet we’d have great playdates. But I also bet when Kate gets sick she’s allowed to go lay down. There’s a big plus for princess-hood.

Anyway, enough whining. Lots of good things going on too! The boys are doing a lot better and Owen’s over the scary croupy cough.

I’m giving my blog readers fair warning—it’s 2016. The year of Rio. If this blog is truly reflective of its author, you’ll be reading about gymnastics. It’s the year of Rio, and the year of Simone. She’s going to break the curse and become the first reigning world champion to win the Olympic all-around since Lilia Podkopayeva in 1996. When she does she will be the most dominant female gymnast of all time. She’s won every single all-around she’s entered going back to P&G Championships 2013. And she’s not just winning. She’s killing everybody. She literally could fall off two pieces of equipment (maybe three or four) and still win. It’s just unreal. The world has openly admitted that it’s a competition for silver. Girls who win silver cry and jump around as if they had won. Because, really, they have.

This, of course, means that Simone Biles is set up for some kind of massive breakdown. Sports is all about the unbelievable becoming reality. (Steelers over the Bengals? Broncos over Panthers? Miracle on Ice?) But…I don’t see it happening. She’s the most fun-loving, incredibly gifted female athlete I have ever seen. She genuinely cheers on her competitors (even the snooty Russians!!!!!!!). I think her attitude prevents emotional and physical breakdowns that plague so many in individual sports. Barring major injury, she is the favorite for, get this, FIVE of the SIX gold medals that will be awarded this summer. !!!!!!

Four other spots will be awarded to US gymnasts to complete the Olympic team. My current team prediction includes Biles, Gabby Douglas, Aly Raisman, Maggie Nichols, and a bars specialist. (Probably Madison Kocian.) Realistically the USA could field three full competitive teams at the Olympics…that’s how dominant women’s gymnastics is right now in this country. Marta Karolyi will be looking, especially, for three Amanar vaults (Biles, Nichols, Raisman/Douglas) and three strong bar workers (Kocian, Douglas, Nichols/Biles). The only downside of this lineup would mean USA would only qualify one gymnast to the vault final (Biles). If Marta wants the option of the maximum two on every event she needs another vaulter, which means McKayla Skinner—but this is a bad option. While a powerful gymnast, Skinner has some of the sloppiest form I’ve ever seen and is no fun to watch. And she is weak on bars. I could see her awarded an alternate status.

In case you haven’t noticed, my true dream profession is that of sports commentator.

Today’s 1%:

15/50: Bringing Up Bebe. Loved this book, especially the first half. I think the French have a lot going on in how they parent their children. Resonated especially with the avoidance of helicopter parenting (which we all stick up our noses at but do more than we want to admit) and respecting the intelligence your children have, right from infancy.

16/50: A Career of Evil. Cormoran Strike #3. It took me a long time to buy into the plot of this one, but once I did it was the best ending of the three. (I had to finish it. I was having nightmares.) Galbraith finally made me care enough about the two protagonists to commit.

I’m wallowing in book 17 right now—a satire called Freddy and Fredericka. It’s slow going and really long. But I don’t want to give up just because it’s not my cup of tea! Not all fifty books are going to be easy reads. Still…it’s messing with my blistering reading pace of a couple books a week.

Today's 1%: Healthier Baking--Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins

I’ve really taken up baking this past year. There is a lot of bad baking in the world, but when done well there are few things more enjoyable. I mean, a really good scone is unbelievable. But I’ve only had really good scones a couple of times in my life. Digging into the actual chemical processes of baking has taught me a lot, and makes identifying the causes of poor scones a lot simpler. (Chill the butter, bare minimum of mixing, and try not to touch the dough with your warm hands, for starters.)

If there was one recipe that I could count on before starting to actually read about baking, it was my mom’s Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffin recipe. I have people email me regularly each fall asking for the recipe “one more time”. I’ve eaten it at other people’s houses after they’ve asked me for it. It’s a great, foolproof recipe.

But it’s not especially good for you. Which is OK, because we don’t eat muffins a lot. But…what if you could? Just as I continue to tweak my sandwich bread recipe, I dared to start toying with the sacred muffins. Here’s what I have figured out:

Original Recipe:

2 ¼ c flour

2 c sugar

2 t cinnamon

1 t baking soda

½ t each of salt, ground ginger, nutmeg, cloves

2 eggs

1 15 oz can of packed pumpkin

½ c vegetable oil

2 c chocolate chips

Combine dry and wet separately. Fold together, add chocolate chips. Bake, yadda yadda yadda.

Revised Recipe:

*1 ¼ c all purpose flour

*1 c white whole wheat flour

*1 ½ c sugar

2 t cinnamon

1 t baking soda

½ t each of salt, ground ginger, nutmeg, cloves

2 eggs

1 15 oz can of packed pumpkin

*¼ c vegetable oil

*¼ c natural applesauce

*1 ½ c chocolate chips

Combine dry and wet separately. Fold together, add chocolate chips. Bake, yadda yadda yadda.

Guess what? They taste the same. (Roy backs me up on this.) I bake these in the large muffin tins, and the recipe yields one dozen muffins. (If I’m going to eat pumpkin chocolate chip I’d like a substantial portion.) I did a rough nutritional analysis of these swaps/reductions and discovered that the original recipe clocked in at right around 400 calories per muffin. And a lot of sugar and fat. The revised recipe cuts down the calories to 300 per muffin, with greatly reduced sugar and fat levels. (For example, there is a 375 calorie difference between a quarter cup of oil and a quarter cup of applesauce.)

I daren’t get too fancy with things, but I’d be willing to go whole hog and try a full ½ c of applesauce next time. I think the pumpkin keeps things from getting dry, even if there are exchanges for the oil/flour.

My next project: finding a trusty lemon poppy seed muffin recipe. Early attempts from trusted bakers have yielded dense, dry results. 

My Valentine's Day

What did you get for Valentine’s Day this year? Chocolate? Roses? A massively-overpriced greeting card? (I picked up one a week ago and it was 8.79. I put it back down.) That’s all lovely, and I’m super happy for you.

I got this.

On the evening of February 14, Roy pulled this big fat binder out of a beautiful red leather backpack. I’ve had the pack since high school, but the strap began to fray late in my first year of college and I never had it repaired. I couldn’t bear to throw it away because it is so pretty, and the leather makes me think of softball. <cue all of the happy memories> Roy dug it out of the basement and took it to a tailor’s shop.

So, big score on the backpack. But the binder…

I opened it up and, seriously ladies, it’s not even fair. First off, it was stuffed with paper. As you can see, the side of the binder boasts its ability to hold 350 pages.

He has been working for weeks, going through my old, first laptop from college, saving, and printing all of our email correspondence from before we were married. This is about two and a half years’ worth of emails, which is all the more impressive when you consider that we only ever dated in the same geographical location for about five months. There were lots of emails.

800 pages. It’s practically a Bible’s worth of content there.

 

Double sided!

Swoon.

Date Night In: A Little French

“There are times…when I forget just how effective simplicity can be…What if it was as simple as turning off gadgets and TVs and tuning in to each other?” –Ashley Rodriguez, DNI, p. 259

And thus we embarked on our fifth Date Night In. Roy and I both love French food, and I think the appeal of a French-themed evening sold us on our next DNI. French food, to me anyway, sounds complicated and expensive and delicious. This DNI was neither complicated nor expensive. The deliciousness was up for discussion.

The boys were bedded as close to 7:30 as possible (so 8 o’clock…) and we ambled downstairs to complete preparations. Roy handled the cocktail and I tackled the lentils. We were both enthused to undertake a grown-up project. Much of the previous hour had been devoted to removing Owen’s latest “contribution” to the tub and giving it a thorough disinfecting. Little teeth were brushed and we were sprayed with spitty toothpaste. We read the same bedtime stories for the thousandth time, roundly chastised for misreading or mixing up any details. Yes, it was time for a cocktail and grownup conversation.

The cocktail, Grapefruit 75, was simply assembled and the perfect thing to sip on as the lentil dish took shape. It was reminiscent of the first cocktail we made back in September, minus all the crushed ice. It was largely familiar and comfortable, which was a great way to kick off the evening.

Nothing too fancy visually here, but it was tasty.

The White Salad with Pomegranate Cranberry had been completed earlier and we pulled it out and assembled our table. I was nervous about the salad. The fennel bulb had smelled strongly of licorice as I meticulously cut matchstick-sized pieces. Yuk. I’d never had celeriac but celery isn’t my fav, and the dressing was just lemon juice, olive oil, and salt. I had my doubts. It was GREAT. First off, everything was so uniformly white and pretty to look at. But the flavors melded and nothing stood out too strongly. It was dressed just enough and the cranberries, while no pomegranate seeds, added a light sweetness here and there. This was probably my second favorite salad, after the mango miso, that we’ve made for a Date Night In.

I don't recommend making this unless you have some kind of mandoline. I have a super-cheap one that helped get things down to a flat, relatively uniform thickness, and then I knifed everything into matchsticks. This would have been even easier with a decent mandoline that doesn't terrify me of slicing off a uniform thickness of my finger.

We dove into the Braised French Green Lentils with Mushrooms and Kale. Holy smokes. Favorite DNI dish so far, hands down. You wouldn’t think that a meatless dish comprised entirely of common, humble ingredients could be so incredible. The egg on top broke open and the yolk mixed in to create a little extra richness. (I felt very MasterChef when we did that.) Our enjoyment was briefly impinged on by wailing upstairs. Roy discovered James half-fake crying because we had forgotten to put his watch back on after his bath. Considering it was around 9PM, he must have been really bored up there.

It may not look like much, but, but, but!

Dessert, as alluded to yesterday, was going to be a mixed bag. At the boys’ dinnertime around 6PM I had been feeding them chicken, pasta, and peas, and James piped up, “What’s gonna be for dessert? Hmmmm. What could we have… <slow, steady smile of clever plan spreads across his face> …hmmmm…hey…what about if we had some of, you know, The Disaster???”

So I guess my Florentines have a new name now. But they must have tasted OK to be requested so specifically!

Dessert was wonderful. The dark chocolate from The Disaster mixed with the Café au Lait Pudding, which was basically espresso, heavy cream, and sugar. Not much to worry about there. It was light and rich and the delicate texture of The Disaster provided an excellent contrast. A pleasing conclusion.

Look at those pleasing geometrical shapes! ;) Who needs perfect, lacy circles anyway?

My biggest regret from this DNI? No leftovers! Usually at least one of the recipes in a meal makes enough for leftovers. None this time! I absolutely intend to go out and purchase more mushrooms and cream to make the lentils again this week though. It was so good.

My second biggest regret, and this is becoming a monthly occurrence, is the frantic dry mouth in the middle of the night after a DNI. Ashley Rodriguez’s food blog, which propelled her to author this cookbook, is called “Not Without Salt.” So none of the recipes in her cookbook are Without Salt. And many of them are Not Without A Lot Of Salt. Last night I had a repeating dream of beelining to a vending machine, desperately inserting dollar bills, and chugging bottle after bottle of cold water.

DNI at your own risk I guess. But do DNI. Now that we’ve completed a few of these we can look forward to them in more specific ways, and are getting better at automatically divvying up the prep work. It’s a wonderful exercise in teamwork—and the edible rewards are stunning.

“Sometimes our dinners are multiple courses that require forethought in order for dinner to be on the table before midnight, and other times they are made up of a few simple ingredients put together in a way that creates a beautifully complex, yet comforting dish. Either way, it always ends up with us being together and connecting. Relationships can be complicated, but making a bit of time for each other is really quite simple.” –Ashley Rodriguez, p. 259

Today’s 1%;

14/50: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. Perhaps my favorite non-Harry Potter book of 2016 so far. Written from the perspective of an autistic boy, it was funny and brilliant and bittersweet all in a relatively quick read. Thanks Roy, for the recommendation on that one.

February Date Night In: Preparations

Happy February everyone! February is typically the time of year when I want to sleep and read all day long. I’m afraid I’m not usually at my best mid-winter. So far it’s been a relatively mild February for Rochester, and it’s not as hard to fight for sanity. Running and yoga and busy boys bring purpose and peace.

So attempting a bit more of an ambitious Date Night In this month didn’t seem completely out of the question. Tonight’s the night, and I’ve already spent several hours this morning doing some prep work. Here’s our menu:

-Grapefruit 75

-White Salad with Pomegranate

-Braised French Green Lentils with Mushrooms and Kale

-Café au Lait Pudding and Cocoa Nib Florentines

This morning I prepped the lentils with homemade chicken broth, cooked the pudding (I can’t think of a single thing that can’t be improved upon with the addition of heavy cream and butter…except perhaps my waistline), and baked the Florentines.

Which was a disaster. We couldn’t find cocoa nibs anywhere and it would have been too late to order online. So I substituted a chocolate bar that contained nibs. This added too much liquid to the batter and the “cookies” turned into a big flat bubbly mess that is reminiscent of James’ states puzzle or, if you look really closely, the Bills logo. (I kid you not--James looked at it and asked why Owen threw up on my cookie sheet.)

Instead of little round, lacy cookies, I ran my pizza cutter through the mess to try to create some angled shapes. Pictures to come later…

Also, apparently there are no pomegranate seeds in Rochester this time of year. The produce man at Mt. Wegmans informed Roy that they are seasonal. I’m not sure how that jives with a salad you’re supposed to be able to make in the winter, but so be it. It’s going to be challenging to find an appropriate substitution, and I suspect dried cranberries will have to fill in yet again (as they did for dried currants last month).

So anyway, we’re off to mixed beginnings here. A full review, including photos, to come soon.

Today’s 1%:

13/50: Memoirs of a Geisha. I’m afraid I have little to no knowledge of Asian culture and customs. (Eating takeout sesame chicken and hanging out with my Korean sister-in-law who does everything she can to escape Korean culture is about the height of my Asian dealings.) So even though this book was fictional, I learned a lot. I found little that was personally compelling, but the book was well-written and, based on my research, fairly accurate from a historical perspective.

Checking in

Roy says my blog has been inactive recently, which is true. Mostly that’s because I’ve been reading in my spare time instead of writing. And usually the times I think about blogging I’m up to my ears in little boys. But it’s one of those late nights when he’s gone at a performance and sleep isn’t coming quickly, so here goes nothing.

Imprisonment

I just finished watching a documentary on eating disorder recovery. Talk about sobering. I think most women in our country would be lying if they said they hadn’t brushed up against debilitating body image issues--if not personally, then via friend or family. This documentary was heartbreaking, as young women in a rehabilitation community wrestled with wanting, or worse, not wanting to get better. The deeper-lying issues of insecurity, seeming lack of control, substance abuse, and family dynamics all played in heavily. It was gut-wrenching watching a 15 year old girl, who was working through the complexities of her bulimia, sit next to her mother on a family visit and watch her mom pick over her own meal, choosing highly specific bites of food off the plate. You watched and knew that, even if this teen made great strides in rehab, her hill would be steep upon reentry. The end of the documentary concluded with “where are they now”—of the four females profiled, all had lost significant weight upon leaving the rehabilitation facility. One had attempted suicide and one passed away due to complications from bulimia.

Psychiatrists, psychologists, nutritionists, counselors, nurses, and therapists all did their darndest to get through to these women, but by and large they were talking to brick walls. I put a lot of stock in modern medicine and the intelligence of mankind, but the whole time I had a heightened awareness of the need for a Savior. Those girls needed help and healing beyond anything others could offer them. They needed restoration. Lord, would you be near and give us your eyes and ears?

The Gamer

While his father’s son in almost every way, James likes games. YAY! It seems his deep-seated predilection for rules, order, routine, and repetition lends itself well to board games. He was given Trouble for Christmas from my aunt (comes with 17 Minion game pieces!) and we play at least three times a day. I have won maybe three times since Christmas. This is challenging for me, as winning is something to which I am accustomed. (I think the die is cursed.) Still, it’s a nice change from reading Curious George and Richard Scarry, so I jump at the chance for some variety. I picked up Chutes and Ladders today and attempted to teach James the finer points of ascending 100 spaces. He only wanted to go down the slides I’m afraid, and the technique of moving the game piece through the rows was confusing. We’ll keep working on it. And then I’ll get repeatedly thrashed.

Pain Over Solitude

Owen had blood drawn today as a follow-up to his recent food allergy diagnosis. I took him to the lab near where we used to live in Brighton. The actual location is kind of creepy—you have to walk through what feels like a deserted locker room to get to the office, but the lady who works there is kind and gets the vein the first time every time. We set up in the waiting room and it took Owen all of 3 seconds to decide that he wanted to explore. Fine, except that the door to the patient/tech area was wide open with a big sign that said in effect, “EVEN THOUGH THIS DOOR IS OPEN AND YOU ARE THE ONLY ONES HERE YOU ARE NOT WELCOME UNTIL WE SPECIFICALLY ASK FOR YOU. THERE ARE DONUTS AND WE DON’T SHARE.”

I may be slightly exaggerating. Anyway, I had to rescue Owen from exploring the nether region of the locker room lab and he was not happy about it. He’s got a temper, that one, and as I scooped him up and returned to the seat he bucked and kicked and howled. I grabbed my phone and dialed up Elmo (he seems to like Elmo…I don’t think I love Elmo but it’s different than George so I love Elmo). Elmo wasn't helpful. (Never mind. I don’t love Elmo.) He wriggled off my lap and made a beeline for the open door again. Just as I caught him and braced myself for more dolphin kicks the lab tech invited us back. Owen immediately grinned and ran through the door, following the lab tech to the assigned room. I figured if he knew what was coming he wouldn’t have been quite so excited. Wrong-o. I sat with him in the chair while the tech pulled up his sleeve, located a vein, applied an elastic above his elbow, and drew three vials of blood (which took a couple of minutes). He was enraptured. I’m not quite sure he’s ever sat so still. He made eyes at the tech and her assistant and watched the needle and tube the entire time. (I peeked once or twice but mostly looked away…add needles to the raw egg/frying food list.)

So I’m pretty sure he’ll go into medicine and support his stupid musician parents in their old age.

Yesssssssss. <fist pump>

The Scholar

Roy may not mention this on his blog and he definitely won’t put it on Facebook, so I will here. Today my husband completed a lengthy project of reading and translating the entire Iliad from its original Greek. For those of you with little understanding of this accomplishment (ummm…I was in your boat until this afternoon, so don’t feel badly) the Iliad is in 24 volumes. He started in 2011 and he said it took him most of a year to translate the first volume. His speed has, quite literally, increased tenfold over the past four years. I am so proud of him and blown away by his diligence and discipline. I am also selfishly excited because this means he’ll have more time (theoretically) to learn his newest language: French. (In his own words: “The vocab is super easy. It’s just a bunch of Latin spelled wrong.”) Our passports came in the mail this week and we are dreaming of Parie…

Today’s 1%:

11/50: The Blind Side. A great book and the movie stuck to it quite closely. I’m for the Broncos on Sunday but I’ll be watching Cam Newton’s blind side with a little extra interest.

12/50: The Midwife’s Apprentice. Juvenile historical fiction. A quick read that told me, once and for all, that I need to be done reading about midwives for a while. I am thankful for modern medicine.

January Loose Ends

 I neglected to mention a week or so ago that Roy and I did make the conclusion of our January DNI: Nutella Semifreddo with Toasted Hazelnuts. I didn’t take any pictures, but here’s one off the internet. 

Happy to report that even though my photography skills aren’t up to the snuff of food bloggery, it looked just like that. It tasted fine, but I struggled with the raw egg. (Three of them, whipped right in and frozen.) Put consuming raw egg right up there next to deep-frying in my Queue of Squeamishness.

On the upswing, the entire recipe would have been impossible without Mr. Yellow. So that purchase is now 100% justified.

J

I’ve been reading loads. Pleased to say I finished another two books before the conclusion of January…

9/50: Call The Midwife: Farewell to the East End. A bit more palatable and humorous than the second Call the Midwife book. Still gritty and challenging though. Glad I read the trilogy, but mostly in the same way one is glad one’s watched Schindler’s List.

10/50: The Silkworm. Galbraith (Pen name of J.K. Rowling) writes for grownups here. I liked this one better than the first Cormoran Strike novel, but there’s still a lot of language and adult content. Granted, it was mostly pinned on the “bad guys”, but still. The purity of Harry far preferred.

Guys, I read ten books in one month! I’m so pumped to be off to a head start, because I don’t doubt there will be months in 2016 when I read almost nothing. If you have any awesome book recommendations feel free to comment below. Yay!

Today’s 1%: I grocery shopped for February. By myself. It was amazing and glorious and organized and quiet. And cheap. If you don’t shop at Aldi, aren’t a farmer, and there is one nearby I’m afraid you are probably wasting money.