Menu 10/25 - 10/31

Thursday

Lunch - Fridge Clean Out
                 
Supper - Seared Tuna with this Black Beans/Rice/Cilantro/Lime mixture I saw online.  We have some tuna that some friends brought us from a fishing trip, and it needs to give up its rent-controlled apartment in my freezer. 
[My dad had this law student work for him one summer who wouldn't quit saying "Ahi Tuna - I have to have Ahi.  No other kind will do.  It needs to be AAAAAAAhi"  -  So, rather than the lovely words you would be tempted to call that guy, we just called him Ahi.   So now, Ahi is synonymous in my head with one of those words that you'd call that guy who talks incessantly about acceptable grades of Tuna.]


Friday

Lunch - Out and About, I imagine

Supper - Red Beans and Rice.  I have a hankering.   I actually had some recently, but I haven't cooked any in a while.  There is just something about a pot of beans.  Something good. 

Saturday

Lunch - Soup Contest at our Reformation Day celebration.  I'm making a Shrimp and Potato Porridge.  It is our family favorite. 

Supper -  Our children are abandoning us to go see John Prine.  This means that Paul and I are going to curl up, watch a movie, and eat take out Chinese.  Or Taco Bell.  Depending on his mood. 

Sunday

Lunch - Tuna Melts - My favorite.

Supper - Honey Lime Chicken Enchiladas, Mexican Rice

Monday

Lunch - Leftovers / Sandwiches

Supper - Chili, Cornbread

Tuesday

Lunch - Chili Dogs

Supper - Noodles with Sauteed Vegetables

the public vow

This morning, like most Sunday mornings, we found some matching shoes, and even a few collar-shirts (as Collins calls them) for the menfolk, and we traipsed to church.

But, rather than heading ten miles west, we headed ten miles east to a different church of a different denomination. 

We explained to the little people that the church service was going to look different, and we found our roped-off pew next to the font.
We tried to quickly instruct Ada Bee how to follow a service that relies on a prayer book, rather than an extensive bulletin.  We did not attempt this with Eas.
We reminded children how to receive communion through a common cup.
We had an organ rather than a piano. 

We sang unfamiliar service music. 

Genius Parenting Tip # 367

 
So, when your kids are little (or big), they fight.  They also share.  We split a lot of things around here.  One graham cracker left?  Split it.  A bowl full of popcorn?  Divide it among you.  One third of mom's lukewarm coke remains?  Sure - everyone take one sip, and make sure Collins gets some! 

Well, at lunch today, I was reminded of a genius parenting tip that someone, somewhere passed down to me. 
I don't know who.  It may have been my Mama. It may have been a dear friend who may see this and rightfully demand credit.  It may have been a random woman in the grocery store. 

I honestly cannot remember.   All I remember is being dumbstruck at the simple brilliance.  Why didn't I think of that?  Who knows. 

Regardless, here we go. 

We all had leftover poached pears with our lunch. 
Collins didn't like his.  His brother and sister were both coveting it. 

So, how to split fairly? 
Someone will get a bigger piece.  Unless you get a ruler, bigger pieces just happen.  And one response to their complaining about being slighted is to say, "Get a life."  And we do a lot of that.  But why make the kid feel like his life has been less than fair today if it's easily and joyfully avoided?  Right.  No reason.
We have plenty of life isn't fair moments.  We don't need to add poached pears to the pile.  

So, brilliance cometh like manna in the wilderness.  

One child breaks it in half.....
 and the other picks which half he wants. 

Isn't that brilliant?  Simple and brilliant. 
It entirely eliminates the "I want the bigger piece" obnoxiousness.

The person breaking has every incentive to actually break it as close to half as possible - because he knows, in all likelihood, he'll be on the receiving end of the less desirable half.  

If he does a bad job, he's only done himself a bad turn. 

It's pretty great.  Pretty great, I tell you. 

If you're not eating soup, well....

If you're not eating soup these days, we may have to reevaluate our friendship. 

I'm struggling to keep us to two soup meals every ten days.  That's right - my average is above one soup meal a week.  I love the stuff all year round, but well, have you been outside this week?  And this morning, it's down right chilly. 

So, this week, I pulled out an old soup recipe that is inexpensive, quick, and filling.  For what more could one ask in October?


I was going to email to a friend, but thought I'd just as well type it here first. 

I think this is some form of minestrone.  I have it scrawled in my cookbook as "quick soup" - such imagery! 


I just looked up minestrone. Fascinating etymology.  It currently literally translates 'Big Soup' in Italian.  However, it comes from the same Latin word that minister comes from -  Minestrone - that which is served; Minister - he who serves.  

 So, to the recipe.

Read all of it as optional/guidelines.  I toss in and don't measure a thing.  But, we all know I'm a weirdo.

Quick Soup

1 lb ground beef or venison or some such (mas o menos, as you see fit)
1 yellow onion, chopped - size based on your onion love. We all know how big o' one I used.
1 clove garlic, minced (Or 1 tsp dried)
2 cups coarsely chopped cabbage 
1 can mixed veggies
1 28 oz can tomatoes
1 8 oz can tomato sauce
2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
2 cups water

1 cup macaroni (shells or elbows)

Freshly grated parmesan




Brown the meat and the onion together.  Get pretty lean meat and you don't ever have to drain it, so you can brown veggies in it, making a superior falvor and less time. 

Add garlic and cabbage and stir for one minute. 

Dump in the cans - undrained - seasonings, and water.

Bring to a rolling boil. (look at the water - does it need more?)
Add macaroni.
Simmer 15 minutes.

Serve, sprinkling each serving with cheese.


It's a weird mix of hearty and light -  hearty because of the meat and noodles, but lighter because of the brothiness.  Brothiness is now a word.

All my kids ate it happily two nights in a row - and so did some extra kids who were over, so that means that it's not just my weirdos.  And Paul and I were happy with it.

I really think you could do whatever you want to change it up -  remove the meat, add cannelinis or garbanzos, add carrots or celery or bell peppers, remove the can of mixed veg and actually chop veggies (it's such a small amount and adds time to prep work, so I haven't done that yet.)


Embrace the Soup.

"Soup for you!"  

Menu 10/4 - 10/10

In fun news, this gourd is currently on my dining table:

It's fall time, and I'm trying to live and cook and eat that way.  Good, wholesome, filling, warm, real food.  We don't aim for perfection, but we're a trying! 


Thursday

Lunch:  Fridge Clean Out
Supper:  Quick Beef & Vegetable Soup - I don't know where this recipe originated.  I went through my Mamas recipes when I was in college sometime.  I copied down everything I loved and everything that sounded good.  I had a vague memory of having this, and so I copied it down.  It has been very successful. 
I have a better, and more authentic, beef and vegetable stew recipe.  But this one is cheap and seriously - not in that fake liar way - seriously takes from the onion being removed from pantry to first bite in mouth about 42 minutes.  And not all active.  Twelve minutes of active time.  Maybe one day I'll put the recipe up here.


Friday

Lunch:  Pic - A - Nic -  I have this problem:  I love picnics.  I do not love cold food.  What I really want for a picnic is Beagle Bagel chicken salad and wheat thins.  But, at like 10 bucks a pint, or more, it's not often viable.  So, I'll figure something out.  But, we're going to the park around the corner, eating our picanic and then heading to the Fire Museum on a School Field Trip. 

Supper:  Chicken in Puff Pastry -  This stuff is bad news.  And the best news.  I'm not venturing into making my own puff pastry, no matter what Robert Capon says, so I'll have to buy that jazz.  Other than that,  (which is a calorie dense caveat)  it's mostly whole foods. 

Saturday

Lunch: Leftovers

Supper:  Heading to a friend's.  My job is a Walker's House Salad.  Which I am glad to do.  In a heartbeat. 

Mixed Baby Greens - Colored Peppers - Blue Cheese - Creamy Peppercorn Dressing - Red Onion


Sunday

Lunch:  Noodles.  Parmesan & Butter.  It's good.  And for it we should be thankful. 

Supper:  Cheesecake, Rosemary Mustard Pork Shoulder w/ Egg Noodles, Veggies -  I want radishes and sweet potatoes - probably separately.  We shall see. 

Monday

Lunch:  Spelt Bread, Pieces of Cheese, Apples, and Love

Supper:  A dear friend is bringing supper.  I hear we're getting Beef Stroganoff.  And Peanut Butter Pie just for Eason.

Tuesday

Lunch:  Cheese Toast, Trimmings

Supper:  Frankly, I haven't gotten that far.  We might go to the fair.  We might pull something out of the freezer.  We might do fridge clean out.  Depends on our plans and current state of events.  I will not have to go to the store, though -  Will not.

Menu 9 / 20 / 2012

In an effort to return to normalcy, I'm actually making menus and lists, executing shopping trips, and then chopping onions to my heart's content. 

We all have those things that make us feel settled, contented, at peace.  Being climbed upon by children, special passages of comforting books, pitifully picking out melodies on the piano, really good or fairly bad television, paul forster kisses, friends around the dinner table, passages from the BCP are all on my list. However, one moment, beyond others, convinces me I'm engaged in the rich goodness of day to day duty: Yellow onions, a Henkel knife, and the deliberate up and down into perfect dice. 

the justice of beautiful conversations

Katrina

This morning, Ada Brooks had a hard time with her Latin translations.  They were just a bit harder than they have been, and there were more of them than there have been, and I was out of town last Thursday-Sunday, etc.

So, by the time she got to this sentence, she wasn't feeling chipper, but, rather, in the Forster Family vernacular, she was done.

Natura pulchra est, non iuesta.

Nature is beautiful, not just.

She marched into where I was headquartered, helping Eason with his handwriting.

"I don't think I've translated this correctly.  I'm having trouble with all of them, Mama.  They are just especially hard today. Ugggghhhhh."   (Foot stomp action as well). 

"Okay - dahlin - let me take a look."

I looked, and discovered that while she has not mastered the turning of halting first-try translations into flowing prose, she had not, in fact, made many mistakes.

"No, sweetheart - you got that one right - Nature is beautiful, not just."

AB:  "Well, that's not true.  How is nature unjust?  How can nature even be just or unjust?  And even if it can be, it seems pretty just to me."