Photo Drop, 3/17

First tooth gone! Literally. It fell out sometime between Saturday night and Sunday after church. James had no idea when or where, and didn't seem particularly troubled by it. The Tooth Fairy was still gracious enough to make a visit.

"Take a picture of my teef DOO!"

Checking out the Harley Davidson exhibit at the Strong Museum.

Biggest wind storm in Rochester in 75 years. Gusts up to 80 mph! We were extremely fortunate not to lose power (or shingles) but most of Rochester was without electricity for several days--up to a week. The boys are watching a parade of power trucks that were sent from New Jersey to help get the city warm again.

Sometimes he's so silently handsome I can't help but snap a picture. It never does him complete justice.

This kid is never silently handsome. But handsome nonetheless.

http://cookieandkate.com/2017/roasted-mushrooms-with-herbed-quinoa/ My newest food blog to explore and experiment with. Healthy vegetarian recipes that require minimal "special" ingredients.

OK. Maybe occasionally silently handsome. This is after he threw up all over the couch and was forced to migrate to his "very own island" on the floor lest he spew again. Poor little fella. I suspect a flax allergy.

When you need to wrap a present for a girl and you only have boys.

I'm forever screenshot-ing recipes that pop up so I won't forget to give them a go or try to pick up a missing ingredient.

Waiting for Daddy to finish looking at suit jackets in the mall. The boys were happy to make "wishes" in the fountain and I was happy that they stayed dry.

My 12 year old slippers were held together by rubber bands and had started giving me splinters. Got these bad boys and anticipate they will last into my 40s. (Which is only a testament to the quality of the footwear...) It's like wearing a fluffy warm cloud around the house.

I love my Fitbit so much. But the pink plastic band that I use hasn't retained its color, even after a bath in the dishwasher. Maybe leather will last longer? #wishlist

My 5 year old came crying into the kitchen, accusing his brother of whacking him on the hand with wooden train track pieces. Said younger brother then came tailing behind like this. In case you ever wonder why it's hard to get upset at this kid. 

Date Night In: All Over the Mediterranean

So we have 18 inches of snow…at least. With another 6ish due today, plus 40MPH winds all day. Rochester is shut down for yet another day after a hurricane-like wind storm last week and now the biggest snow storm of the year. Everybody’s been stuck at home, either by governmental decree or by necessity. (Who wants to go out and drive in 18 inches of snow? I can barely get out the garage door just to start shoveling my driveway.) Everybody, in this instance, means everybody but my husband, who is currently driving to a certain neighboring city which refused to cancel their educational concert this morning, despite the fact that all the schools are CLOSED. Don’t even get me started…

Today I *melted* and we’ve got Cars on as the snow blows. The boys are content for a big chunk of time and I can work on the DNI blog. They both assured me they wouldn’t be talking in Mater voices for the rest of the day, so we’ll see how that goes…

Is there anything cozier than Date Night In during a blizzard? I can’t think of many things that would top an evening in with your husband, kids bedded, with wonderful food to enjoy together. Last night only confirmed our suspicions.

This was Greek night. I told Roy we needed to listen to My Big Fat Greek Wedding soundtrack while we ate. We forgot in our hunger and haste, but it most definitely had the feel and flavors of a Greek feast. And it was entirely vegetarian as we had lamb! ;)

Menu:

Gordon’s Cup with Caraway

Fresh Carrot Salad

Mediterranean Lamb Tostadas

Stewed Apricots with Cardamom Yogurt and Marcona Almonds

We skipped the cocktail once again. I by necessity, Roy by choice. We plan on going back through some of the missed drinks after this pregnancy is over. But I’ll be honest and say I’m a little skeptical of gin with caraway syrup. Ashley’s surprised me many times, but herbs in drinks isn’t my preferred combo.

Roy had actually made the carrot salad before, using a few substitutions. Last night we had it exactly as written, with jalapeno and cilantro. I wasn’t overly impressed after I initially mixed it together, but it improved dramatically with a four hour rest between prep and dinner. It still wasn’t my favorite salad ever, but it was tasty and it definitely complemented the star of the show, the tostadas.

 

Can there ever be too much cilantro?

So it was kind of like eating a Greek taco? Nachos? We had toasted pita topped with seasoned lamb, all kinds of fresh veggies and herbs, and topped with feta and homemade Tzatziki. This date night in felt substantially healthier than any other so far. Way less salt, way more fresh veggies. (We calculated that we had 5 servings of fruits and veggies apiece just from dinner.) And zero heavy cream. Gotta be a first.

 

There are a lot of goodies buried under all the Tzatziki and lettuce too.

Which was OK, because we ate our weight in Greek yogurt instead. Between the Tzatziki and dessert we met our dairy quota no problem-o. :p

 

You can pick out mint, lamb, tomatoes, feta, and parsley a little more clearly here.

The dessert was sweet and spicy and justifiably healthy enough that I had the leftovers for breakfast this morning. ½ c of Greek yogurt mixed with ground cardamom and a drizzle of honey, topped with stewed apricots (broken down in white wine, vanilla, cinnamon, and honey). We forgot about the almonds, but they would definitely add a textural complexity and a bit of extra protein.

 

This photo probably doesn't do a whole lot for you, but that tiny bit of creamy yogurt peeking through makes me ready to create it all over again immediately.

It was nice to go to bed not as worried about getting up three times to guzzle water. (Although it feels like I’m up that many times to pee at this point anyway.) And I had no indigestion, even though we ate a LOT in volume. This was a pregnancy DNI win-win! I’ll definitely make the tostadas again and consider adding it into our normal routine of meals. It requires a decent bit of prep with chopping fresh veggies, but it’s tasty and healthy enough that it doesn’t feel so much like an indulgence. I suspect swapping ground turkey or beef for lamb and using similar seasonings would yield a less pricey, but everyday-acceptable protein as well.

Mediterranean food is not my favorite cuisine. It's probably not even in my top 5. (Here's looking at you French, Italian, Mexican, and anything from Asia.) That being said, this date night in menu was, in a word, refreshing. It lacked the carbs and cream and hit us instead with fresh herbs and aromatic spices. I didn't mind eating a cold salad in March during a blizzard. Not sure I can lavish more praise on it than that.

(That being said, we're rapidly approaching night 3 of this storm, which began late on Monday and is still blowing fiercely outside. So I made the chocolat chaud from last month for us to sip on tonight under blankets.)

Adventures in Baking: French Macarons

Today I embarked on a journey long-awaited. Melissa came over and we gave the dreaded French macaron a swing. Known as the toughest cookie to get right, macarons are not to be confused with the coconutty-condensed milk lumps our husbands love. No, this delicate monstrosity combines egg whites, almond meal, and powdered sugar in a very finicky process to create light, meringue-y, beautifully colored discs. You take two of them and pipe some kind of delicious filling and make what kind of looks like a pastel hamburger.

French macarons have a terrible reputation for going awry. I read a bunch of different articles and blog posts and was warned about sifting, weighing, stabilizers, egg-freshness, egg temperature, baking sheet covers, even humidity levels in the atmosphere. Quite honestly, it looked intimidating.

But, quite honestly, it wasn’t nearly as scary in real life! Melissa brought her wealth of baking knowledge, as well as piping bags and tips. I brought…well, two noisy small boys. Melissa also brought Uncle Lucas, who quickly held them in rapt attention with Hide and Seek and paper airplanes. (Let’s hope I make macarons better than I do paper airplanes…)

We had enough batter that we were able to play around a bit with variables, such as drying and baking times. Here is what we learned:

1.       Don’t sift almond meal in this.

Use a proper sifter. Melissa “sifted” for 15 minutes and it was just painful to watch grain by grain of almond meal fall through.

2.       Do weigh your ingredients. I’m not sure that macarons are as precise a science as it would seem, but we both know enough about baking to be aware that weighing ingredients leads to dramatically improved, consistent results.

3.       Do line your baking pans with silicone mats or parchment paper. We used both in different batches, and both were great for peeling off the baked macarons.

4.       It’s probably better to overwhip your egg whites than under. That being said, our batter was a little too thick. You can see from this picture that we don’t have the shiny flat tops we were aiming for. We suspect this is because the egg whites were too stiff. We wonder as well if we could have tempered this by stirring the batter a little bit more to take out a little extra air.

5.       Do use a decent amount of food coloring. I think we were aiming for a bit of a brighter pink, which we had in the batter, but the oven dulled. Add a drop or two beyond what you want and I think you’ll have it just about right.

6.       Do dry your discs before baking. Our rested for between 35-55 minutes, depending on the batch. It didn’t really matter in the outcome of the bakes.

7.       Don’t underbake your macarons. You want them dried out and firm. They won’t come off the sheet otherwise. We baked the first batch for 20 minutes at 300 degrees. The next two went in for 19 minutes. It didn’t make a noticeable difference. They’ll be super crisp initially, but once you add the filling they soften and get a little chew back again.

8.       Let your filling temper the sweetness of the cookie. The cookie itself has no flour, but lots of powdered sugar. It’s very, very sweet. We opted for a lemon curd/whipped cream filling, hoping the tang of the lemon would balance the sugar. It mostly worked!

We had a great time working on this project and I think I can speak for her that we will try again, either together or individually. And I can speak for myself and state categorically that I’ve consumed enough sugar for the entire weekend.

Date Night In: Renewal

Once upon a time, an increasingly long time ago, two young persons sat down to Valentine’s Day dinner. It was served on the floor of an attic studio on a slab of wood. The two individuals made cautious conversation as they dined on tinned chicken and dumplings, Swiss Miss hot cocoa, and peanut butter cookies made from an envelope. They were obviously smitten with each other, but the newness of their relationship and the outer pressures of The Most Romantic Holiday kept everything at arm’s length. The smell of old books mingled with the food and conversation.

Last night two persons celebrated their thirteenth Valentine’s Day dinner on the floor and ate off of a slab of wood. So many things the same, but so much changed. The couple was now in the living room of their own house, with two little boys asleep upstairs. There was absolutely nothing on the slab of wood that came from a can or envelope. There was hot cocoa, yes, but it was called chocolat chaud and only the finest Ghirardelli chocolate, whole milk, pure vanilla, and carefully whisked and strained cocoa powder and sugar contributed to its rich finish. The two were obviously smitten with each other, and thirteen years had softened the pressures of having to force romance. The conversation flowed easily. (And the smell of old books was relegated to the back room.)

Roy and I reminisced over a baker's dozen February 14ths over the makeshift wooden table. We couldn’t remember a single night where we had actually ventured out to a restaurant. We almost always shelve our celebration for another evening when reservations aren’t mandatory and there is the possibility of a bit of space. After a year plus of Date Nights In, our choice was easy this year. We will stay in and cook a remarkable dinner for ourselves, trusting Ashley to have created a menu that equaled or bettered anything we could find in the wider world. (For our budget anyway.)

This Date Night In was extremely sensory. You could hear the loaf of artisan bread crackling within itself as it cooled on the countertop. The cheese sizzled in the cast iron skillet as we dipped in meat, vegetables, fruit, and the most incredible tiny French pickles I’ve ever tasted over and over. The purple potatoes were as surprisingly royal on the inside as their skins and the red salami met the bright green of a Granny Smith apple. The flavor combinations were seemingly endless and we were granted enough food and time to try them all. We ate with forks and with fingers. Despite the best preventative measures there were little chocolate moustaches to wipe away. It was wonderful.

Here are some pictures.

 

This is Walnut Bread. But in reality it is a no-knead loaf that tastes more like bread from a real bakery than anything I've ever made. The secret is to bake it in a cast iron Dutch oven with the lid on to trap the steam and create a crackly, chewy crust. We borrowed a Dutch oven for the occasion but were so won over that I ordered our own this morning.

Salade Verte with Hazelnut Vinaigrette. Basically butter lettuce with a homemade dressing.

A fine red wine salami.

Grainy mustard and chunks of walnut bread.

Butter and Shallot Poached Potatoes.

Cornichons. Tastes a bit like a cross between a pickle and an olive. A staple on any pickle tray under my purview from now now.

Apple, cornichons, potatoes. It's worth noting that we were so hungry and distracted by the skillet of melted Raclette that we forgot entirely to take a picture of it. Rest assured, it was beautiful at every level. 

Chocolat chaud. Like our cutesy little V Day mugs? Roy threatened to throw these out a couple of weeks ago and I'm glad we held out. Not the best picture, but it was, most definitely, the best hot chocolate.

I will never stop dating you. There may not always be a fried chicken sandwich, beef tenderloin cooked to a pink perfection, creamy panna cotta topped with tangy roasted fruit or even a homemade soda spiked with bourbon, but there will always be me, you, and time without distraction.

                The main message remains the same: for as long as I’m alive, I will wake up every morning and say yes to you. Sometimes I will do it with a great joy pounding in my heart, ad other times I will do it because of the promise we made so long ago. Regardless, I will continue to choose you over and over again.

                -Ashley Rodriguez, DNI p. 269

Pictorial update

The “special snack” James chose for his recent sleepover with best friend Alexa. They had both been religiously eating their vegetables without complaining in order to earn this special occasion. The sleepover was not at our house, but from all accounts went swimmingly. They did: sleep in a tent in the basement, play with Legos, run around uproariously, stay up until 10PM talking, eat “peanut butter puffs” for breakfast. They did not: watch the movie we sent along, eat pizza for supper (at least James didn’t), or have any tantrums due to exhaustion. Well, not during the sleepover anyway…

The boys reading the latest stack of library books. Owen looks like a tropical bird with his hair sticking up like this. I was unable to get a blur-free picture due to the excited turning of pages.

The book that made me cry three times in Barnes and Noble just skimming through it. Was promptly purchased via Amazon for $10 cheaper and I’m positively engrossed. So many doubts and frustrations lately regarding the church and how it relates to the world at large. Rachel Held Evans freely admits that she hasn’t figured it all out, but she gives voice to the questions I’m asking and is exploring them boldly and without fear. I’m happily tagging along for the ride.

Now that the first trimester is a thing of the past I want desserts again. These brownies are my strongest argument against boxed brownies, which I freely admit are almost always better than the average baker’s homemade version. Add a perfectly creamy, barely sweetened, salted peanut butter frosting and WELL.

The next wish, because there’s always a next wish. Doesn’t have to be Le Creuset because, well, that would destroy our Parisian adventure budget for the foreseeable future. Doesn’t have to be (probably shouldn’t be) white. But a cast-iron, enameled Dutch oven that I can stew, braise, and bake in. Consider it an investment. Please and thanks. 

The other book that I read in Barnes and Noble and bought on Amazon for half price. A textbook for bakers, which is thrilling for somebody who still doesn’t understand thoroughly why batches of bread vary from bake to bake. Currently testing a cookie recipe…I’ll keep you posted.

Like his mother, Owen is recently showing a propensity for needing WEIGHT on him. Being tucked down by cushions, pillows, and blankets has been his preferred hideaway all morning. It’s certainly been a quiet, peaceful morning at that.

Loves

James, I love when we read books together. Your favorite activity from infancy, you sit, barely moving or blinking, absorbing every word and picture. You always ask to read another book or chapter and shelve any other activity of great importance for the sake of a story. Your focus and concentration is commendable. That being said, I love it best when books make you laugh. Today we read A Birthday for Francis for the first time and you literally screamed with laughter. I fly inside when I see you understand the sarcasm and jealousy of Francis, and her wild attempts to defend the injustices against her. Keep reading little boy. It will give you all the hooks you need to hold onto in this big scary world.

Owen, I love your irresistible insistence…

“Look at the goose Owen!”

“Nooo. Not’a goose. A GUK.”

“Actually, it’s a goose.”

“No! No goose! GUK! KACK!”

“Daddy, I wan’ muhk!”

“There’s a sippy in your bed Owen. You can go get it.”
“Daddy, I wan’ muhk pease. Pease go get muhk.”

“You can go get it yourself Owen.”

“No WAY.”

“Yes way.”

“No WAAY.”

“Yes way.”
“No, I nee’ he’p. Hol’ joo Daddy. Hol’ joo.”

“I’m not going to hold you. You can go up the stairs yourself.”

“Daddy, pease I wan’ muhk…I know! DAIMSH! I wan’ muuuuhhhhhk!”

“James is in his room Owen. He can’t hear you.”

“DAAAAAAAMMMMMSH! I WAN MUUUHK! PEASE BING ME MUHK!”

…

“Sorry O Bear, James can’t hear you.”

“…Mommy bing me muhk?”

5 minutes later.

Daddy, “Well, kiddos it’s time to go upstairs and brush teeth.”

“NOW Daddy go bing me muhk! Yay!!!!”

Roy, I love that being married to you means that special treats from the grocery store include the fanciest of cheeses and also gummy vitamins.

Quickish Hitters

Book Update

Book 3/50: Just Mercy. Wow. What a book. Read it in chunks, but do read it. I gave it to Roy as soon as I was done and he suffered through as well. A brave, wide window into the judicial system and the racial/gender/age inequalities that pervade our nation’s courts and jails. We both commented, “You know there’s always another side to all of these stories. But the sheer volume of these stories and data sure presents an incredibly compelling argument for major changes.” Also, do we even have a clue as relatively privileged, white Americans, what goes on in our country every day?

Book 4/50: Calming Your Anxious Child. Good news, I don’t think our child is clinically anxious. Bad news, this book wasn’t especially helpful. If anything, I resonated more strongly with some of the scenarios and issues, and I’m supposed to be the calm, wise parent. Score! <chagrined smile>

I’m currently reading Present Over Perfect, one of those NYT Bestsellers that’s popping up on all my friends’ blogs and FB pages as the “it” book. Our Morning Mom’s group has decided to use it in the spring term for a book study and I’m halfway through. I think I like the title better than the book so far, although there are definitely passages that have slapped me across the face. It has caused me to re-reexamine my current slate of commitments and tasks to see which are worth continuing and which aren’t.

The thing that is probably most borderline is my weekly night of teaching at our city’s local community music school. I spend two hours (plus travel) directing a couple of flute choirs, which is fun once I’m there, but hard to conjure up the energy to leave after supper when I know I won’t be back until bedtime. We usually have to pay a babysitter for three hours of time so I can be there, which, coupled with the not-for-profit organization’s pay scale, means I clear about $10 a week for my time and efforts. Is it enjoyable enough/beneficial enough to keep doing this? I don’t know. It’s obviously not about the money, as I am the world’s worst employee when it comes to submitting my biweekly timesheets. I justify this by telling myself that it looks a little better to get a big fat paycheck once every couple months instead of a measly one more often…

MMs

I started attending our church’s mom’s group on Friday mornings this school year. Part of this was because I am woefully uninvolved in the life of my church beyond what they pay me to do. Part of this is because I don’t know anybody outside of the music ministry. Part of this is because a morning of free childcare sounds appealing. Part of this is because I really wanted Kylie to come with me.

My experience has been mixed. I always think to myself, “Wow! This will be great! Other moms in the same season of life as me. Great food and a leisurely cup of coffee. Prayer and study.” And there are aspects that I do find very refreshing (like seeing Kylie every Friday morning). But I also walk away every week with a bit of confusion.

First off, I am not quick to make friendships. And making them in the context of a group setting is almost impossible. If I was hoping to make friends then MMs is a way to stand back and observe the pool of possibilities. Then I have to be brave and attempt to connect outside of the group with possible kindred spirits. This, quite honestly, is a lot of emotional work that usually just seems too hard.

Additionally, I wrestle with the worldview/mindset that seems pervasive in the group. Prayer requests center on marital issues, children in school, finding balance and cleanliness in the home. These are all legitimate, so legitimate, and in some ways I deeply resonate. But I also find myself inevitably drifting away to thoughts of the weekend services at church, of what repertoire would be best for my ensemble’s next performance, of what media sources to trust and why, of what does the Bible really have to say about the political discourse of our day, of whether a chocolate frosting with sour cream would be worth attempting next time I bake a cake.

I’ve witnessed a few brave women who shared prayer requests centered on a controversial topic (such as homosexuality or abortion within their families) and the responses included those who just can’t help themselves and offer their politically-charged, graceless opinions. And it just reeks of the same old same old mess. So I leave partially connected, partially more distant. I don’t know how much more I can stretch both ways before something has to change. Either my mindset or my attendance. Or something.

Worlds Collide

So at MMs last Friday I sat down at a table full of women whose names I knew. All of them. <major high five to me> Except one, but I was pretty sure she was new and nobody knew her. She stared at me curiously as I settled in at the table and reached for my smiling, gurgling nephew.

“Do you still work at *local city community music school*?”

“I do!” I smiled in surprise. “How did you know that…?”

“Oh,” she said, “I’m the payroll specialist there. I know exactly who you are. We joke in payroll that you should donate your money since you never submit your hours.”

I made some kind of jovial, half-hearted attempt to laugh my way out of it, but really I was mentally crawling under the table to die. I texted Roy that of all the women in the world, I sat down at the table with the one who probably hates me most. His grace-filled response? #besureyoursinswillfindyouout