Stuft!!

Ah, Thanksgiving!  The time of year when we give thanks for the blessings in our lives, gather with family and friends and argue over which stuffing recipe is the best.

Oh, wait, you're telling me I'm the only one who does that?  I can't believe that.  Stuffing is as subjective as your opinions on politics and religion.  In our family alone, there are four different versions.  My father-in-law puts oysters in his.  My grandmother-in-law adds chicken livers and eggs.  My mother's family - well, their stuffing is mostly sausage with a little bread and black olives put in for good measure.

And then, there is what I consider stuffing perfections.  My Grandma Rita Winslow's bread stuffing.  Six simple ingredients equal the quintessential vehicle for rich gravy.  It is simple and wonderful.

Rita Winslow's Bread Stuffing
(I made this as a side - if you are going to stuff a bird, you'll need to double or triple the recipe)

• 1 bag dried bread (or dry your own and get about 4-6 cups)
• 1 large stalk celery, chopped
• 1 onion, chopped
• 2 tbsp. butter
• 2 c. chicken broth
• 1/2 tspn. poultry seasoning
• Salt & Pepper to taste

1. Melt butter in a pan.  Saute onion and celery on medium heat until translucent, but not browned.
2. Mix vegetables, bread, broth, poultry seasoning, salt & pepper until bread is softened and all ingredients are well mixed.
3. Coat a baking dish with olive oil or butter.  Turn bread mixture into pan and spread evenly. 
4. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes covered with foil.  Remove foil and bake for another 10 minutes. 

 

We'll save the gravy recipe for next time!  I'm too full to write any more!  

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Yankee At The Table

For a bunch of Yankees, my family adjusted to southern food pretty well when we moved to Missouri in 1984.  (Note: I said southern food, not St. Louis food.  The appeal of provel cheese still confounds me!)

One of my favorite dishes that my Dad started making after our move was Red Beans and Rice.  He used legendary Cajun chef Justin Wilson's recipe.  It was beautiful in it's simplicity - beans soaked overnight in red wine then slow cooked with ham hocks.

When Todd first asked me to make this dish for him, I excitedly borrowed Dad's cookbook.  Todd seemed perplexed as I prepared the meal, but enjoyed the finished product.  Later, he explained that it was not what he expected because it was nothing like his mother's.

I hear the collective grown from all the women out there who have had their cooking compared to "Mom's".  Being rather young and naive, I didn't take offense to that.  I'm glad I didn't, because he got his Mom's recipe for me to try and it was as wonderful as the on my Dad used, but completely different!

It is a great dish to make for a pot luck dinner and a must for Mardi Gras.  Also, with a few simple changes, you can prepare this as a vegan dish (just for you Cristin Winslow Murphy!)

Red Beans and Rice

• 1 lb. dry red kidney beans
• 1/2 lb. salt pork
• 3 c. chopped onions
• 1 c. chopped green onions
• 1 c. chopped fresh parsley
• 1 tbsp. garlic salt
• 1/4 tsp.  dried oregano
• 1 tsp. cayenne pepper
• 1 tbsp. Worcestershire sauce
• 1 tsp. black pepper
• 1 1/2 tsp hot sauce
• 1 8 oz. can tomato sauce
• 1 to 2 lbs. smoked sausage

(FOR VEGAN VERSION: Replace the salt pork with 3 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil and omit the smoked sausage.  Follow the rest of the recipe the same.)

1. Rinse beans and check for rocks.  Cover beans with water (about two inches over the beans) cover and soak overnight in the refrigerator.
2. Add pork to the beans and bring up to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer (with cover vented) for 45 minutes, stirring occasionally. 
3. Add remaining ingredients, except for sausage, and cook for 1 hour.  
4. Remove salt pork and add sausage.  Add more water if the beans seem to have soaked it up.  Simmer for another 45 minutes.  
5. Serve over rice with a big bottle of hot sauce on the table!
 

 

Remembrance

I started to write about 9/11/2001 from my memories and my point of view, but then, I did something I have been avoiding doing for the last several weeks.   I read some of the articles and watched some of the news stories that have been coming out of the woodwork.

The stories of survivors and those who lost loved ones were powerful, but they weren't the ones that brought me to my knees.  It was the stories of the young adults who lost parents when they were so very young and it was the stories of the children too young to know the parents they lost.

Anything I have to say, quite frankly, is trite in comparison.

So I will simply say that I remember and I will carry the scar of that day on my heart forever.

Four

Four - it's a nice even number.  It's the number of sides on a square.  It's the number of doors on most cars.  It's the number of members of our family. 

It's the number of years I've had the honor of being your mother.  And I say honor, even with the screaming fits (like the one that got me plenty of looks in Schnucks on Friday) and the sleepless nights and the worry over when you would talk. You bring out the fierce Mother Protector in me.

You are my Sunshine, my Blondie Boy, my weird little guy.  Your sparkling eyes and mischievous smile melt my heart every time I look at you.  When you sit, cuddled in my lap, quietly watching the movie that is currently your favorite (as they switch almost daily sometimes), I am at peace with the world.   When I see you and your brother cuddled together asleep at night, I am prouder than any one else on the planet.  When I hear new words and sentences, I am amazed at your determination to make yourself heard. 

Banana Phone

Happy Birthday Finn - I love you more every day!

New Routine

My little monkey butt,

Tomorrow morning we will start a new routine.  Instead of heading to Ms. Nanie's with Finn, we will take you to the other side of town for your first day of school!

You are officially a kindergartner!

I can't believe how big you are and how fast the last six years have flown by!

I told Daddy last night that this feels like the first day I went back to work after you were born.  I still don't know how I made it thru that day.  I wanted to run home and hold you and never let you go. 

But you were in good hands.  I knew you were being spoiled by Grandma and Papaw (and I'm pretty sure Grammy spent most of the day there too!).  When I picked you up that first night, you were just a happy little chunk of love and I knew you would be okay.  So, I was okay. 

Daddy reminded me that you will be in good hands at school too.  I saw that at Open House.  Around every corner was someone who knew Daddy or taught Daddy or goes to church with us.  (It's one of the nice things about living in such a small town.)  Your excited little face let me know you were once again going to be okay.  So I guess, I will be too.

I love you so very, very much.  Don't let my tears fool you - I am excited to see the world open up for you as you learn.  Daddy and I will always be right here behind you - ready to take the lead if you need us.  But, I guess that right now, it's time to step back and let you explore.  

Love,
      Mommy

No Secret

Some things are meant to stay in the family.  Wedding dresses, china, photo albums and, in my family, some recipes.  These recipes can only be passed on to those with a genetic link (or a marriage license).

When I first posted that I was going to add recipes to my blog, I posted a picture of lasagna.  That particular recipe has been passed down through generations in my mother's family.  It is complicated, time consuming, expensive, delicious, and if I told you the recipe, I'd have to kill you or marry you.

But there is a lasagna recipe that is no secret.  Hence forth, it shall be known as Cara's "No Secret" Lasagna.   It is not as complicated, time consuming, or expensive, but still delicious.  And, I don't have to worry about blood stains or bigamy charges!

CARA'S "NO SECRET" LASAGNA

Basic Sauce

(This is the sauce I make about once a month and freeze for easy spaghetti nights.  This recipe will give you enough for the lasagna and one dinner's worth for your freezer.)

• 4 large cans crushed tomatoes 
• 2 cloves garlic (minced)
• 1 small yellow onion (finely chopped)
• 1/2 green pepper (finely chopped)
• 1/2 cup flat leaf Italian parsley (chopped)
• 4-5 fresh basil leaves (chopped)
• 1/2 tsp. dried oregano
• Salt and pepper (to taste)
• Olive oil

1. Coat the bottom of a sauce pan/pot with olive oil (about 2-3 tblspns depending on the size of the pot).
2. Heat pan on medium low.
3. Add onions, garlic, and pepper and saute until onion is translucent.
4. Add parsley, basil and oregano and saute for two minutes until fresh herbs turn dark green.
5. Pour in tomatoes, add salt and pepper and stir.
6. Bring sauce up to a bubble then turn it down to low.
7. Simmer on low for 2-3 hours (covered with the lid vented), stirring occasionally. 

"No Secret" Lasagna

• 1 batch Basic Sauce
• 2 boxes "No Boil" lasagna noodles
• 2 lbs Italian sausage (bulk)
• 1 lb part skim ricotta cheese
• 1 lb shredded mozzarella
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 c shredded Parmesan cheese

1. Brown sausage and drain on a paper towel.
2. Heat oven to 375.
3. Coat bottom of lasagna pan/roasting pan (9X13X3) with about 2 cups of sauce.
4. Place double layer of noodles on the bottom of the pan, overlapping.
5. Drizzle one beaten egg over noodles.
6. Spread half of sausage over noodles.
7. Drop (by teaspoonful) 1/2 of ricotta over sausage.
8. Sprinkle 1/3 of mozzarella over ricotta.
9. Cover with sauce (about another 2-3 cups)
10. Place a single layer of noodles over sauce.
11. Repeat steps 5 - 10 (in order).
12. Place sauce over final layer of noodles.
13. Sprinkle remaining mozzarella and Parmesan over top.
14. Cover with foil and bake for 50 minutes.
15. After 50 minutes, remove foil and broil for 10 minutes until cheese is bubbly.
16. Let sit for 15 minutes before cutting.  

This is not a light meal, but if you want to make a big family dinner on Sunday night, there is nothing like it!

Feelin' Hot! Hot! Hot!

It has been excruciatingly hot here for what seems like eons.  It's only been a few weeks, but even the heartiest of souls at this point are crying "Uncle!"

One of joys of summer are the fresh fruits and vegetables that seem to be everywhere.  One of my clients is an avid gardener and has shared his bounty with my office the last year or so.  Last year, every time we turned around, he was bringing in another bag of tomatoes.  I decided to oven dry many of those last year and freeze them.  While the results were delicious, it warmed the house in the evenings for about a week.

When he brought me more tomatoes yesterday, I considered doing the same.  However, when I got in the car today and noticed the temperature was 104 degrees, I thought that running the oven for a long period of time at a low heat probably wasn't the best idea.

So what else to do with fresh tomatoes?  Why salsa of course!   So I pulled out my salsa recipe and made up a batch.  Unfortunately, I didn't buy any chips, so we'll have to wait to enjoy it til tomorrow, but it certainly smelled good!

FRESH SALSA

6 peeled fresh tomatoes (quartered)
2-3 seeded and cored jalapenos
1/2 seeded and cored green pepper
1/2 medium red onion (quartered)
1/2 c. fresh cilantro leaves
1/2 tbsp salt
1/2 tbsp ground cumin
1 tsp black pepper
1/4 c. red wine vinegar
2 tbsp hot sauce

Place all ingredients into a food processor and blend until just smooth.  Makes about 3 1/2 cups.  (This can be frozen for up to 3 months.)

Food is Love

I love food.  Food is memory and comfort and surprise and invention and expression.  I find pleasure in the simplest of foods - like toast with real butter dipped in coffee milk with lots of sugar, just like my Grandma E-A would give us.  And I am amazed by intricate, complicated dishes, like those prepared on Iron Chef.

I have always enjoyed consuming food.  My parents learned when I was young that I would not be fooled by the "Oh, you wouldn't like this..."when it came to foods like lobster and shrimp that I could eat until they came out of my ears.  I always enjoyed the stuffed artichokes my Great Grandmother made - what kid likes artichokes?

But preparing the food - I left that to the grown ups.  I was a notoriously bad cook.  My brothers like to tease me about the ruined Hamburger Helper I made one night while babysitting them.  And my brother Dominic lovingly recalls my first attempt at icing.  I didn't realize that confectioners sugar was powdered sugar and made it with regular sugar.  While Dominic says that the sweet, soupy mess tasted delicious, it was still pretty embarrassing.

But in my 20s I began to develop some kitchen skills and began to really enjoy the art of preparing meals.  As my cooking got better, I came to enjoy deviating from the cookbooks and coming up with either my own takes on existing recipes or completely new recipes. 

Some recipes are sacred to me though.  My Great Grandmother's Lasagna, Big Sauce, and Meatball recipes are never to be fooled with.  I make chicken soup by the recipe my Mom gave me every time.  Eggnog desert can only be made one way and that's according to my Grandma Rita's recipe.

I love nothing more than to put a pot of my tomato sauce on the stove on a weekend and smell it cook through the afternoon.  And there is no smell better on a cold winter's day, than chicken broth simmering on the stove.  And there is such joy for me in presenting the homemade cakes from scratch at my kids birthday parties.

In every meal I cook, be it something as simple as pancakes on a Saturday morning or a pork roast with a bacon blanket for Sunday dinner, I put a part of my heart and soul into it.  I put my love into it.

With that love in mind, I'm going to start sharing my cooking more here in this blog.  It is part of the fabric of my family and by sharing it here, I'm sharing love.

Grandma's Lasagna

Ten

I don't know what  to say.  Being speechless (or wordless) is not something I suffer from frequently.  But today I am.

I thought about reminiscing about my wedding day.  I thought about talking about what it took to get to that moment where we said "I do".  I thought about trying to relive every moment of our truly kick ass reception.  But none of it felt right.

So, I think I'm going to keep this short and sweet.  Ten years ago Todd and I became a family.  And from that tiny family of two, we have grown to four with our beautiful, precocious boys - one who looks like him and one who looks like me. 

While nothing is easy and no one is perfect, I wouldn't trade the last 10 years for anything.

Happy Anniversary Todd - you are my love and life.

First Date

Not only did you call, but you actually wanted to go out with me.  On a date.

How did I manage this?  A really, really good looking guy who was smart, who agreed (mostly) with my politics, who wasn't a dork AND who played in rock 'n' roll band?  Guys like you didn't date girls like the person I thought I was back then. 

Euphoria gave way to complete and total panic!

You did research.  You called a mutual acquaintance to find out where to take me. You chose Me Kong on South Grand.  It was perfect.

I gave you bad directions to my house.  You said it was cute.  I figured this was our first and last date. 

I wore black jeans, my tight white t-shirt, and a bright pink cardigan (the first of many that you would come to loathe).  You wore a vest and purple t-shirt and jeans.  Your hair fell in your eyes. 

We talked about music and politics and music.  We went to The Bull Tadpole for drinks after dinner.  We played "What It Takes" by Aerosmith on the jukebox - a break up song of all things!

You took me home.  My parents refused to leave the living room while we sat in the family room.  When they finally gave up and went to bed, I desperately wanted to make out with you, but you wouldn't do more than kiss me a few times.  

When you left, I was sure I'd never see you again.  

Apparently, I was wrong.  Fifteen years, two weddings and two children later, you're still here. 

When They Ask

When the boys ask about that dark day, as they are bound to do, we will tell them what we remember.  We will tell them about the unfathomable destruction and loss of life.  We will tell them about the acts of bravery and selflessness.  We will tell them that suddenly, there was a "Before" and an "After".  We will try to explain things we don't even understand.  

When they ask about the years in between, we'll point them to the examples set by their uncles and their service to their country.  We will tell them about the ones that didn't come home.  We will tell them about the good that was done and the mistakes that were made.   We will try to explain things we don't even understand. 

When they ask about last night and the news that came as they slept, we will teach them that evil should never be allowed to flourish.  We will teach them that violence should not be celebrated, but to understand that is the only response in extreme circumstances to ensure justice.  We will teach them that loving and respecting each other are the true paths to peace.  We will try to explain things we don't even understand, but we will try.

I Remember

The first time I saw you - standing behind a table full of literature in a ballroom at the Henry VIII hotel. 

The second time I saw you - walking out of the Ramada Inn in Columbia, MO a couple of weeks later. 

The formal introduction - later that night in the crowded hotel hallway.  David Witte introduced us and you offered to get me another beer.  You claim that's what won me over. 

The first time I swooned - when you asked if I knew who was playing at Riverport that summer and I responded "Cheap Trick" (expecting some kidding).  Your earnest enthusiasm for my favorite band had me hooked. 

The Boones Farm - Peach, straight from the bottle.  (Makes me a little queasy to think about it now.)

The first kiss - your crooked, tipsy smile as you leaned in. 

The embarrassingly naive attempt at seduction - "I'll show you how big a girl I am."  You still giggle about that and I still blush. 

The goodbye - when neither of us had a pen so I tore one of my checks in half to give you my phone number.  Years later, I found it was still in your wallet. 

Fifteen years ago, I was sure you wouldn't call.  

But you did.  You did. 

Wonder-full

The wonderful thing about Tiggers/

Is that Tiggers are wonderful things/

Their tops are made out of rubber/

Their bottoms are made out of springs

That phrase kept going thru my mind today as I watch my children careen from one big, inflatable play station to another.   And my second thought is "Why is this so fun that they can do it for two hours and still want to stay longer?"

After 3 days stuck in the house with either my husband, his mother and grandmother, or myself, they boys had massive cases of cabin fever.  Usually their days are spent at the babysitter's house with other kids and outside playtime.  But spring decided to spring a leak on us here in Southeast Missouri and our babysitter has been unreachable since Sunday.  While our flood issues were extremely minor compared to many of our neighbors, we still needed to find a solution to the growing boredom in our house.  

So I took the boys, via the shortest available route (which was about 50 minutes each way), to Cape and we descended on LeBounce.  It's a climate controlled bouncy house playground where they kids can run wild.  And it was just what the doctor ordered.  

They boys expended all that pent up energy and played with other kids for nearly two hours.  Finn flipped and slid.  Elwood bounced and climbed.  And as I watched them, I couldn't help but think "Why is this so fun?"   

I mean, I can understand the first time going.  It's something new.  But this is the 3rd time we've been there in the last month and every time we go in, it's like their birthday and Christmas rolled into one.  I actually had Elwood tell me "Thanks for bringing us some place cool" as he ran off to the big slide.  

I guess that's one of the wonders of childhood.  If something is fun - it's fun the first time and the third time and the fifth time.  And if something is fun, you can do it over and over again until you pass out.  

As adults, we think about the ramifications.  How much does it cost?  Do I have enough time before my next appointment?  Do I look ridiculous?   Does my ass look big as I climb that inflated rock wall?  We've forgotten how to just let go and enjoy that moment.  That one moment of pure joy and the one that follows it and the one that follows it...

That's one of the beautiful things about watching my kids.  The remind me of that.  And that, is wonder-full.   

Our Song

According to Elton John, you can tell everybody this is your song.

Apparently, Elton didn't see the list of songs Todd and I had to consider as "our song". Because of one issue or another, we were faced with a bit a dilemma when it came time to choose the song that would be the first one we danced to as man and wife.

Don't believe me? Let's review:

Strike #1 - Nine Inch Nails "Closer"

Todd would quote this song and send it as messages to me thru a third party who had no clue what he was doing. It was sweet really. The avaunt garde feel of NIN was cool, but I really thought that lines like "I wanna f**k you like an animal" didn't fit the classy vibe of our wedding. Plus, you know, my grandmother was there.

Strike #2 - Radiohead "Creep"

This would be the first (and to date last) song Todd ever dedicated to me at a Human Zoo gig. It's heartbreaking and beautiful and completely wrong for a first dance. Or a wedding in general.

Strike #3- Aerosmith "What It Takes"

We played this song on the jukebox at the Bull Tadpole in South St. Louis on our first date. And it's a break-up song. Nuff said.

Foul Ball - Paul Westerberg "Love, Untold"

On one of our first dates, Todd asked me if I liked this song and I said "Like it? I have the album." I didn't. I had never heard of it. But by the next date, I had the album and adored that song. While the most appropriate of all of our choices, it's story of missed opportunities just didn't feel right.

So we settled on Bob Dylan's "To Make You Feel My Love". It was romantic and beautiful and the fact that it was Dylan lent a quirky edge that suited us. We had "our song".

A week or so before the wedding, I got a call from Todd. He had found our song. Now, most changes this close to the wedding were unthinkable and should only have been brought up because someones life was in danger. This one, however, was actually a very sweet surprise.

When Todd heard the song "Babylon" by David Gray, he said it was us. How I was there right before him, even when he wasn't perfect. It meant so much to me that he had felt that about this song that is was a no brainer. We had a new song.

Flash forward ten years and that song is now used to torture prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.

Every time I hear it though, I smile and remember that first dance. Surrounded by family and friends, I danced in the arms of my new husband.

The Diaper Days Are Over

I knew that 2011 would be a big year for my little guys. Well, here we are, just 2/12 months in and we've already hit our first milestone.

FINN IS OFFICIALLY POTTY TRAINED!!!

I was reluctant to declare it because I didn't want to jinx us. Two months of sleeping in underwear with only a couple of accidents and I think it's safe to say that I'm out of the diaper game. The turtle potty chair has left the building!

Sorry Pampers - we've had five good years together, but it's time for you to find someone who needs you. I've grown. I'm with Hanes now. Shhh - don't say anything. It won't make me come back.

I wish I could take credit for this monumental achievement, but in reality, the majority of the credit goes to our amazing babysitter. She took the lead on this and we followed along at home. When we discovered that he would poop in the potty for her, but was asking for, and sometimes putting on his own, diaper, we knew we needed to step it up a notch. So, we borrowed a potty from the babysitter so that he would have identical ones at home and at her house. After a few rough days, he did what he was supposed to do and we were on our way.

While there is always a tinge of sadness anytime one of my boys reaches a milestone, I can't say I'm too sad to be done with diapers. Not that there weren't adorable moments of bonding during diaper changes. Elwood liked to be sung calypso and Finn liked tummy tickles. But the gross factor usually out weighed the cute factor, so good riddance!

Plus now, I can send them to the bathroom with Todd when we're out and you know he loves that! ;-)

The Bedtime Blues

Scene: A wizened old blues man sitting on a bench on a front porch. It's a humid night in the bayou. As the crickets chirp, and the soft wind blows, the man begins to sing. Cue music:

(Ba dum da dum)
Gonna sing you a song
(Ba dum da dum)
'Bout the bedtime blues
(Ba dum da dum)
'Bout two little boys, who don't want to follow the rules.

Oooo, well they not sleeping
And Mama is weeping
And Daddy he don't, well he don't know what to do.

Yeah we all, we all, we all
Got the bedtime blues

Usually, I leave the musical expression to my husband, but I felt that there was no better way to express the hell that our current sleep issues are than to sing the blues.

We've always had sleep issues in our house. We co-slept with Elwood and from that point on, one of the four of us usually sleep poorly - usually, me or Todd.

Over the summer, we got Elwood to sleep in his bed by himself for a WHOLE MONTH. He was rewarded with a trip to the water park and we thought "Ah, one down, one to go."

Not so much .

We have days, even whole weeks at a time, where he wants to go to bed "like a big boy" and he does it just fine. But soon enough, he "needs" somebody to lay down with him or I find it easier to lay down with both boys rather than try and get them down separately. Any progress we make goes right down the tubes.

The last few nights have been particularly bad, however, and Todd and I are at a loss.

One or both of the boys have been up til 11:00 p.m. or so for the last several nights. And when I say up, I don't mean fighting sleep while cuddled up watching a Disney movie. I mean running, jumping, jabbering insanity. Elwood becomes "Chatty Cathy" around 9:30 or so and doesn't stop.

And then there's Finn's temper tantrums. They are partly due to the speech delay and his frustration. They are also partly related to him being the reincarnation of Genghis Khan. He is turning into a little bully and when he doesn't get what he wants, when he wants it, he's sure to let you know his displeasure. Those kick in as soon as you try to make him lie down.

I don't quite know what to do. I'm hoping that whatever has gotten into them passes soon. I'm not sure how much more of this we can take.

Until then, I guess I'll be singing the blues.

Or crying in the fetal position under my desk at work.

(Ba dum da dum)