Archive for the ‘food’ Category

There are small joys in childhood that you carry, you bring them for the remainder of your journey, you revel in them when the chance presents itself, in fact, some may have children just to re-live these tremendously fulfilling, itsy-bitsy, and  inexpensive joys.

Tonight it was the banana split. Now, personally, I am not a fan of bananas mixed into anything, but at a loss for what to have for dinner tonight, I opted for the banana split. Because lets face it, sometimes you need to have dessert first, or just dessert, and tonight was one of those nights.

When I was a younger girl, my eldest cousin and myself would typically stay a weekend with my grandfather, and I remember eating more Dairy Queen banana splits and sundaes than at any other time in my life. Thanks Grandfather George. And to my Grandma Mary, and those FANTASTIC – still my favorite, no bake chocolate drop cookies that she freely let us eat for breakfast. And to my mother who reassured me, while I was briefly home for a holiday, that on occasion, it is okay to eat pumpkin pie for breakfast lunch and dinner.

So this one my love, dear Edan, is for you. My son and I enjoyed the Banana split tonight for dinner. As he can be picky I did not push many toppings, we went with bananas, Neapolitan ice cream, peanut butter and sprinkles. Simple by banana split standards, but thats part of the beauty of the split, it grows and changes with you, much like family.

If your not willing to pillow fight, pick up bugs, race to see who can drink an icee drink faster, eat dessert for dinner, play in a mud puddle in your clothes, run in the snow barefoot, and occasionally shoot a water gun in the house, then well, I am sorry for you. I was to a certain degree a bit like that, a bit to rigid about the maintenance of order and the systems of how things work. Having so much time with my son, and developing an increased interest in how children see and process the world, I have learned a great deal about what it means to be a mother, a friend, a spouse, and an individual.

You love your children all the more for being the key to ice cream floats and bubbles, and mud. No one needs an excuse, sometimes we just need to be reminded. And so, if you are still unwilling, still afraid something may get broken, or take time to clean up well, the time it takes to clean up is miniscule compared to the time you will have to cherish that memory – the smile, the giggle, the hug, the moments.

Memories are made when you have banana splits for dinner.

So sometimes it is essential to have anther person around for the sheer purpose of wanting to cook food. Being alone with just Edan gives me no real reason to cook much. He wont eat it. And well, frankly it is depressing in some respects, so lately I just don’t eat, or its soups or a tuna sandwich – simple, comfort food.

But, once in a while a friend calls, or I decide it is just time to make something. Tonight it was CURRY. Not to long ago I went on what some would call an epic adventure. I went with some special people who appreciate the humor of dried luxury squid, and fried gluten balls; and while there purchased several small cans of paste – mostly curry oriented. The one for this evening was a red curry, with very simply instructions, to the effect of: sautee curry paste with coconut milk, add chicken, add more coconut milk, add eggplant. Well, I am personally not the biggest eggplant fan, just not in love with it.So I opened the fridge and played the “lets see what is not rotten” game. I lucked out. I had peppers, onion, potatoes (and coconut milk in the cabinet already, I consider it a staple). So a quick trip up the road lead to a small piece of chicken and some pre-cut squash and zucchini  ( a rather large container for $2, couldn’t beat that).

Thus the birth of my curry. And the restart of my bladder. Spicy, Spicier than I expected. Very good, but spicy.

Taylor was the lucky one tonight, she joined Edan and I for a first course of bed frame assembly paired with a lovely syrah, second course was the spicy red curry, then a match of wits in Origami (accompanied by that same delicious wine) and we finished off, all three of us, with Neapolitan ice cream and fudge covered mint oreos.

People make a meal so much more significant than it would otherwise be. I miss cooking with some one else in the kitchen and sitting down to dinner. These are things that I took so for granted and dearly miss. I have missed them. But to be fare, I recently have not been one to share my space and so have cooked and delivered my fair share of meals. Now lonely, I turn to my friends for the companionship and the community. I have some fantastic friends. Taylor is a gem, she is a great confidant, fun and most importantly great with Edan. This is critical because meals in  house with children can be difficult. Generally Edan will eat first, then we will; and he is expected while we do to respect that time (whether its one or ten of us) and then following we walk or play games and eat dessert together. So it is important that my friends are willing and somewhat accommodating.

Tonight was a reassurance, that no matter how you feel, there are always people there to remind you of the good things you have, the good things you have had and the good things you have to look forward to. They help to keep you hopeful and strong when times are tough, and when those that you would otherwise turn to are indisposed.

Here is to family, community, origami and board games!

The origami by the way- well, we found out half way through that the animals get tougher as you get into the book. So with no skill, and some wine and fierce we plunged into level three origami animals.

We performed much better in memory!

And Edan is in his new bed.

In conclusion, The memories you make are better than no memories at all.

So someone who knows me quite well knows that I love to cook things at home, and like anyone who is interested in food, I enjoy new, interesting and exotic ingredients. Well, Saffron may not be the new kid on the block, but the good stuff is not in the realm of my general trip to the grocery budget, if ya know what  I mean; and a long story short, I got some as a gift for valentines day. Lacking a paella pan, and knowing that is exactly what I wanted to use it for, it has thus been nestled snugly into my spice cabinet awaiting its debut.

Alas, the day of the saffron has arrived. My dear friend Jen got a a paella pan. I brought an interesting, dry french rose’ (strong finish of banana, its good, but different), chorizo and saffron. She got the seafood, the pan and other necessary ingredients.

If your not familiar with paella, then in a nut shell, is a Spanish style rice dish with a saffron broth and then meat, seafood or mixed with fresh peas, red peppers and arborio rice. Most commonly you see chicken legs/thighs used along with mussels, clams, shrimp and chorizo.

Our paella was mixed using the three listed seafoods and chorizo, we, out of laziness, opted to avoid the preparation of chicken. And thus, it was quite tasty, but trial two shall be using the rendered fat of chick thighs.

so this all began as a blog devoted to my grandmother and her efforts to cook and provide for a traditionally large Catholic family. There is, amongst the women, a cookbook of recipes – some are hers, some are from friends some are cut out and included because they were tried and tested and made someone, or everyone in the family happy. But there are many elements to cooking, and family that are not explicit in the recipes.

For one, most of them make large quantities, very large. Indicative of a large family and later of entertaining (be it family or friends). My mother has done nothing to aid in the transformation of these recipes to being family (fourish) sized. If anything, the portions are the same and the amount has actually doubled.

Entertaining is huge in my family, and I used to think that it was huge in my life; that I needed more than myself and my son and a husband to entertain. It is just no the case. Though I love my friends dearly and love having them over to eat and to cook, the acts within the confines of ones family are even more intimate and meaningful. To be fair, the act of creating memories always is.

I presently have no need to cook for more than one routinely and thus, in this situation, one turns to ones friends and shares these moments with them. Here in the comfort of our homes, neighborhoods and porches we begin the creation of our own cookbooks.