Already voted. Mailed it in weeks ago. If you haven't yet voted, please do so.
If it's Election Day, that must mean it's November, and if it's November, that means it's time to get ready for Thanksgiving!
Thanksgiving is my husband's favorite holiday. It ranks up there for me too. This year, I've decided to bring in some new side dishes to the rotation, courtesy of the New York Times website:
Roasted corn with mint
Roasted cauliflower with sage
As you may know, I like to roast vegetables - easy and little cleanup. These side dishes can be done ahead of time and kept warm in the oven. I'm big on getting as much done ahead of time as possible for these big events. Here is my prospective schedule:
Tuesday: do all shopping, pick up the bird (a fresh bird)
Wednesday: make pumpkin pie, sweet potato souffle, cranberry chutney, brine turkey, and prep all vegetables for tomorrow (except for potatoes). Get second table leaf into the dining room table. Go out for dinner.
Thursday (early morning): make stuffing, stuff bird and get it in the oven, clean up kitchen round one. (late morning): Set the table. Prepare vegetables for side dishes, peel potatoes and get them cooked. Once potatoes are cooked and mashed, add them to slow cooker set on Warm. Cook all other side dishes and keep them warm in low oven. Clean kitchen round two.
[it helps to have double ovens on days like this]
I leave the appetizers to the guests to bring unless I'm feeling particularly ambitious.
A new-ish tradition for our family is to have a second turkey, a smoked one from Greenberg Smoked Turkeys. Let me tell you, it is one delicious bird - we let it get to room temperature and let people carve up some smoked turkey if they are so inclined. And the leftovers are delicious. We just have to remember to keep the dogs away from all the food! Here's the link: Greenberg Smoked Turkeys
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Friday, November 2, 2012
Why I Love This Country
Many years ago back in the salad days of my youth, I joined the Peace Corps. I didn't join because I had starry-eyed notions of world peace or a deep-rooted need to help the poor. Sorry if that offends you. The Peace Corps doesn't actually want people who are too idealistic. When reality hits, and it will with a vengeance when you are sitting in a hut somewhere with no electricity or running water, fighting off insects the size of small birds, and nursing a fever or a wound that refuses to heal, the idealists are the first to cry out, "get me the hell out of here!" So it helps to be motivated by some self-interest. In my case, I wanted to travel and see the world a little bit. I figured it would look good on my future resume and set me apart from the rest of the pack.
I made the decision during the last quarter of my senior year at UCLA. I was an English major, it was 1982, and I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do after college. So, I joined the Peace Corps and got sent to Liberia the following December. I became a high school English teacher in a small-sized town in the northernmost part of the country, along the border with Sierra Leone.
For two years I lived in a small house made of mud bricks with a tin roof. During the rainy season it was really noisy. I had electricity at night, usually. I had a small refrigerator and was able to keep a few things in it (and away from any bugs) and as long as I didn't open it much during the day, it kept the food cold.
I taught four classes of 9 - 12th graders and over the two years I was there, I had many great experiences, a few bad ones, and met many wonderful people. I traveled to Ivory Coast, Mali, Burkina Faso, and Sierra Leone. I got malaria, twice.
When my time was nearing an end, the people in my town knew I was going to be leaving soon. Several people came to me, and offered me their children. I'm sure some of you might read this and think, "Wow! That's awful! Who would give up their kid like that?" I can assure you they did it because they loved their children so much, and knew that life in America was so much better than their life in Liberia, that they would willingly (and sadly) give their child to a silly American girl. They had more faith in the American dream than the typical annoying college student who wants to Occupy Wall Street and demands someone else pay off her student loans.
Of course, I declined the offers.
When I got back to the States, I was in a fog for a few months because of all the choices that were available to me again. From the grocery store to a department store, to restaurants, to museums and libraries, it was glorious! Being away from all the conveniences of life made some of my fellow RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) contemptuous of America. For me, I remember walking around thanking my lucky stars that I lived in a such a great country.
Which is why I have a hard time when I hear certain people (who are abundant in this part of California) wax poetic about reducing their carbon footprints, growing what they eat, recycling everything, becoming vegans, and so forth. I've seen this life, up close, and there is nothing romantic about it. Just ask the people currently suffering without electricity in the New York area. An hour might be charming. A day becomes really irritating. Weeks without electricity and clean water breed desperation and anger.
I made the decision during the last quarter of my senior year at UCLA. I was an English major, it was 1982, and I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do after college. So, I joined the Peace Corps and got sent to Liberia the following December. I became a high school English teacher in a small-sized town in the northernmost part of the country, along the border with Sierra Leone.
For two years I lived in a small house made of mud bricks with a tin roof. During the rainy season it was really noisy. I had electricity at night, usually. I had a small refrigerator and was able to keep a few things in it (and away from any bugs) and as long as I didn't open it much during the day, it kept the food cold.
I taught four classes of 9 - 12th graders and over the two years I was there, I had many great experiences, a few bad ones, and met many wonderful people. I traveled to Ivory Coast, Mali, Burkina Faso, and Sierra Leone. I got malaria, twice.
When my time was nearing an end, the people in my town knew I was going to be leaving soon. Several people came to me, and offered me their children. I'm sure some of you might read this and think, "Wow! That's awful! Who would give up their kid like that?" I can assure you they did it because they loved their children so much, and knew that life in America was so much better than their life in Liberia, that they would willingly (and sadly) give their child to a silly American girl. They had more faith in the American dream than the typical annoying college student who wants to Occupy Wall Street and demands someone else pay off her student loans.
Of course, I declined the offers.
When I got back to the States, I was in a fog for a few months because of all the choices that were available to me again. From the grocery store to a department store, to restaurants, to museums and libraries, it was glorious! Being away from all the conveniences of life made some of my fellow RPCVs (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) contemptuous of America. For me, I remember walking around thanking my lucky stars that I lived in a such a great country.
Which is why I have a hard time when I hear certain people (who are abundant in this part of California) wax poetic about reducing their carbon footprints, growing what they eat, recycling everything, becoming vegans, and so forth. I've seen this life, up close, and there is nothing romantic about it. Just ask the people currently suffering without electricity in the New York area. An hour might be charming. A day becomes really irritating. Weeks without electricity and clean water breed desperation and anger.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
House Hunter Whiners
Okay, so I'm watching House Hunters again and I find myself wanting to throw something at the tv. I've had this feeling before. Usually the cause is some entitled, whiny female. Do they pick the people for this show based on how obnoxious they appear on camera?
Here's a checklist for how to appear on House Hunters in the most unflattering light possible:
Here's a checklist for how to appear on House Hunters in the most unflattering light possible:
- Have a huge "wish list" of "must-haves" in your "dream house".
- Have a budget for your house in exact inverse to the size of the wish list.
- Complain about every room in every house you see. Find very little to like about each house.
- Accuse your real estate agent of not understanding your need to find the perfect house for a small amount of money.
- Accuse your real estate agent of incompetence for not finding you the perfect house for your paltry budget.
- Act like doing any work at all in your future home is simply out of the question.
- Immediately enter a room and complain about the paint color, because we all know how incredibly difficult and expensive it is to repaint a room.
- Act as though not having stainless steel appliances in your starter home is a felony worthy of the death penalty.
- Demand a gourmet kitchen and then jokingly mention how you hate to cook and never plan on doing any cooking.
- Question the presence of a dining room, especially by saying something like, "What am I supposed to do with this room! This isn't how I live!"
And yet I keep watching.
Don't even get me started on the dimwit on House Hunters International who complained the entire episode about how terribly difficult it was to find a suitable Parisian apartment for her measly $3 - $4 million budget. This chick and her French hubby were looking at some absolutely stunning and huge apartments with views of the freaking Eiffel Tower and all she could do was complain that the kitchens needed to be gutted.
Friday, October 26, 2012
What Dementia Is (cont.)
So I had to take my mother to the doctor's yesterday for a routine visit. I don't actually take her - I meet her there because she is brought to the office building by a big van that can hold a wheelchair. As I start wheeling her into the building she says something about wanting to go home and see her husband. She wants to see her family. I reassure her that that is just what we will do as soon as she has her doctor appointment. (My father has been dead for over two years and she's been living in an assisted living facility for almost three years.)
I get her into the doctor's office and thankfully we don't have to wait at all. We go into the examination room and the nurse comes in to do the usual blood pressure, etc. She looks at the nurse and says, "I love you" probably five times. Then she looks at me.
Her eyes narrow. And she gets the meanest look on her face.
I give her a big smile.
"What's wrong? You look upset."
"That's because I'm looking at a JERK!"
"I'm not a jerk. I'm here to help you."
"You are not here to help. You are a piece of SHIT!"
And so it goes. I look away for a minute and when I look back at her she's still staring at me through little slits. She again calls me a jerk.
When the doctor comes in, she tells her she loves her. Over and over.
After her appointment, she was much calmer. She actually got a flu shot and didn't get upset at all. I would have thought she might have called the nurse a piece of shit for sticking her with a needle, but no, that honor was reserved for me.
When the big van came to get her, she told me over and over again that she loved me.
I get her into the doctor's office and thankfully we don't have to wait at all. We go into the examination room and the nurse comes in to do the usual blood pressure, etc. She looks at the nurse and says, "I love you" probably five times. Then she looks at me.
Her eyes narrow. And she gets the meanest look on her face.
I give her a big smile.
"What's wrong? You look upset."
"That's because I'm looking at a JERK!"
"I'm not a jerk. I'm here to help you."
"You are not here to help. You are a piece of SHIT!"
And so it goes. I look away for a minute and when I look back at her she's still staring at me through little slits. She again calls me a jerk.
When the doctor comes in, she tells her she loves her. Over and over.
After her appointment, she was much calmer. She actually got a flu shot and didn't get upset at all. I would have thought she might have called the nurse a piece of shit for sticking her with a needle, but no, that honor was reserved for me.
When the big van came to get her, she told me over and over again that she loved me.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
The Joys of Roasted Vegetables
I think this is becoming a cooking blog. Oh well. I love to cook and love to share ideas.
The other day my friend Patti asked me what I thought she should serve with a special dinner she was preparing. She wanted an easy to make and serve vegetable side dish since the rest of the dinner she was making was more complicated.
That was an easy answer for me. My favorite go-to vegetable preparation is the roasted version. Why? First off, less cleanup. I seriously look for reasons to not have to do cleanup after dinner. Secondly, a lot of vegetables taste a whole lot better after they've been roasted. Third, I feel like a real chef when I'm doing this, as I use no measuring spoons or cups.
Ready? Here goes.
Vegetables that you can use (alone or in combinations):
Brussels sprouts
Cauliflower
Onions
Garlic (don't peel - just separate the cloves)
Asparagus
Small, waxy potatoes
Sweet potatoes
What you need:
A rimmed baking sheet
Foil
Cooking spray
Good olive oil
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly-ground black pepper
Heat the oven to about 425. You want a hot oven to really roast your vegetables.
Line the baking sheet with foil. Don't be skimpy with the foil unless you want to wash that baking sheet later. Spray the foil with cooking spray.
Prepare your vegetables. Wash and cut them to a manageable size. For example, cut the cauliflower into flowerets. If a floweret is still too big, slice it in half. Cut the brussels sprouts in half, through the stem, so that the leaves stay together. You can leave asparagus whole, but trim off the tough ends. If using sweet potatoes, peel them and dice into pieces that are bite-sized, but not tiny (you don't want them to burn). You don't need to peel your waxy potatoes, but make sure they are all about the same size. If there are some larger ones in the group, cut in half. Your goal is to try to make sure everything cooks at the same time.
Toss the vegetables onto the baking sheet, and drizzle well with olive oil. If you have it, try an oil that is infused with another flavor - a citrus olive oil is great with asparagus or sweet potatoes, for example.
Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Don't be shy about that part.
Pop the pan into the oven. Keep an eye on things - the time it takes depends on the vegetables. It is a hot oven, so smaller stuff will cook pretty fast.
The vegetables I tend to do alone are the sprouts, cauliflower and asparagus. The potatoes can be done in combination - sweet and regular, along with some quartered onions and a few cloves of garlic. That's a great side dish and very easy.
The other day my friend Patti asked me what I thought she should serve with a special dinner she was preparing. She wanted an easy to make and serve vegetable side dish since the rest of the dinner she was making was more complicated.
That was an easy answer for me. My favorite go-to vegetable preparation is the roasted version. Why? First off, less cleanup. I seriously look for reasons to not have to do cleanup after dinner. Secondly, a lot of vegetables taste a whole lot better after they've been roasted. Third, I feel like a real chef when I'm doing this, as I use no measuring spoons or cups.
Ready? Here goes.
Vegetables that you can use (alone or in combinations):
Brussels sprouts
Cauliflower
Onions
Garlic (don't peel - just separate the cloves)
Asparagus
Small, waxy potatoes
Sweet potatoes
What you need:
A rimmed baking sheet
Foil
Cooking spray
Good olive oil
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly-ground black pepper
Heat the oven to about 425. You want a hot oven to really roast your vegetables.
Line the baking sheet with foil. Don't be skimpy with the foil unless you want to wash that baking sheet later. Spray the foil with cooking spray.
Prepare your vegetables. Wash and cut them to a manageable size. For example, cut the cauliflower into flowerets. If a floweret is still too big, slice it in half. Cut the brussels sprouts in half, through the stem, so that the leaves stay together. You can leave asparagus whole, but trim off the tough ends. If using sweet potatoes, peel them and dice into pieces that are bite-sized, but not tiny (you don't want them to burn). You don't need to peel your waxy potatoes, but make sure they are all about the same size. If there are some larger ones in the group, cut in half. Your goal is to try to make sure everything cooks at the same time.
Toss the vegetables onto the baking sheet, and drizzle well with olive oil. If you have it, try an oil that is infused with another flavor - a citrus olive oil is great with asparagus or sweet potatoes, for example.
Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Don't be shy about that part.
Pop the pan into the oven. Keep an eye on things - the time it takes depends on the vegetables. It is a hot oven, so smaller stuff will cook pretty fast.
The vegetables I tend to do alone are the sprouts, cauliflower and asparagus. The potatoes can be done in combination - sweet and regular, along with some quartered onions and a few cloves of garlic. That's a great side dish and very easy.
Monday, October 15, 2012
The Barking Dead
Scout: "No, you idiot! That won't work! We need to bring on the full death stare. Ready? Let's give her the freaky glow eyes."
Houston: "Here goes!"
Scout: "That's right, lady. Pick up the food bowls and fill them up. RIGHT NOW."
A Nice Way to Start the Day
My older son loves the breakfast sandwiches from Starbucks. You know the ones - an egg, cheese, some kind of meat, all bundled up in an English muffin.
He drives himself to high school now, and prefers to leave a bit early so he has a decent parking space. So, I've been making him a breakfast sandwich in the morning, and wrapping it up so he can eat it once he's at school.
Here's how I do it and what you'll need:
Purchase Norpro non-stick egg rings (sold as a set of two) from Amazon. Make sure you buy the smaller size, which are intended for eggs, not the larger size which are for pancakes.
You also need cooking spray, butter, a good small sized non-stick pan, an egg (duh), an English muffin, and some kind of breakfast meat and cheese.
The meat part is easy - cook a sausage patty (flatten it as much as possible to keep it from shrinking too much), or heat up Canadian bacon or a small ham slice.
Use an English muffin which is sturdy - some brands are thicker than others. You don't want it to fall apart once you've put it together and wrapped it up. Time the toasting of the English muffin or bagel so that it is done about the time the egg is done. This will probably take a few tries to get it timed correctly.
The hardest part is cooking the egg right. Although you are cooking it in an egg ring, there is a trick to getting it cooked without making a mess of it.
At this point, you will look at that egg and say, "What is the Bubble Lady talking about? That's not enough egg for Junior's breakfast sandwich."
Have patience.
After a few minutes, lift up the pan lid and take a peek. See? The egg has puffed up to the top of the egg ring, hasn't it?
You should be able to see whether or not the egg has cooked completely through. If it is still wet looking on top, just put the lid back on and wait another 30 seconds or so.
The beauty of my technique is you don't need to flip the egg over. You really don't want to do that because if you do it too soon, the egg just pours out and well, you've just made a really ugly omelet. This way, the egg is cooked through, and it still looks great!
Lift the ring off (use a fork) and use a spatula to put the egg on the muffin, add the cheese, the meat and wrap it up. It's ready to be eaten! The residual heat of the sandwich should melt the cheese.
Some suggestions:
Meat: sausage patties, Canadian bacon, ham slices, regular bacon sliced in half
Cheese: slices of cheddar, Havarti, smoked gouda
Bread: English muffin, bagel, regular bread
You could even add a slice of tomato if you are eating it right away. Make sure to put it in the middle, as if it rests against the bread it might make it too soggy.
Enjoy!
He drives himself to high school now, and prefers to leave a bit early so he has a decent parking space. So, I've been making him a breakfast sandwich in the morning, and wrapping it up so he can eat it once he's at school.
Here's how I do it and what you'll need:
Purchase Norpro non-stick egg rings (sold as a set of two) from Amazon. Make sure you buy the smaller size, which are intended for eggs, not the larger size which are for pancakes.
You also need cooking spray, butter, a good small sized non-stick pan, an egg (duh), an English muffin, and some kind of breakfast meat and cheese.
The meat part is easy - cook a sausage patty (flatten it as much as possible to keep it from shrinking too much), or heat up Canadian bacon or a small ham slice.
Use an English muffin which is sturdy - some brands are thicker than others. You don't want it to fall apart once you've put it together and wrapped it up. Time the toasting of the English muffin or bagel so that it is done about the time the egg is done. This will probably take a few tries to get it timed correctly.
The hardest part is cooking the egg right. Although you are cooking it in an egg ring, there is a trick to getting it cooked without making a mess of it.
- First, melt butter in your non-stick pan on low heat. You want a decent film of butter at the bottom because it will assist in creating a nice seal at the bottom of your egg ring.
- Second, spray the egg ring in the inside with some cooking spray. Even though the rings are non-stick, this will make it super easy to lift the ring off the egg.
- Third, crack one egg in a bowl and quickly scramble it with a fork. You only need one egg. Trust me on this.
- Place the egg ring in the melted butter and push it into butter to seal it up on the bottom edge of the ring. Then, pour the beaten egg into the ring.
- Take a pan lid and cover the frying pan. Make sure your heat is low. Now would be a good time to toast the English muffin.
At this point, you will look at that egg and say, "What is the Bubble Lady talking about? That's not enough egg for Junior's breakfast sandwich."
Have patience.
After a few minutes, lift up the pan lid and take a peek. See? The egg has puffed up to the top of the egg ring, hasn't it?
You should be able to see whether or not the egg has cooked completely through. If it is still wet looking on top, just put the lid back on and wait another 30 seconds or so.
The beauty of my technique is you don't need to flip the egg over. You really don't want to do that because if you do it too soon, the egg just pours out and well, you've just made a really ugly omelet. This way, the egg is cooked through, and it still looks great!
Lift the ring off (use a fork) and use a spatula to put the egg on the muffin, add the cheese, the meat and wrap it up. It's ready to be eaten! The residual heat of the sandwich should melt the cheese.
Some suggestions:
Meat: sausage patties, Canadian bacon, ham slices, regular bacon sliced in half
Cheese: slices of cheddar, Havarti, smoked gouda
Bread: English muffin, bagel, regular bread
You could even add a slice of tomato if you are eating it right away. Make sure to put it in the middle, as if it rests against the bread it might make it too soggy.
Enjoy!
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
What Dementia Is
My mom has dementia. She's had it for many years now. She lives in an assisted-living facility that has a memory-care unit. It is a nice place, and the people that work there are really wonderful.
I had a conversation the other day with the unit director. I had gone by to visit and drop off a medical form that needed to be dealt with.
The director told me that the staff had been trying to get my mother to take a shower and she was being very uncooperative. She was in the bathroom calling people names and just generally being very disagreeable (very common with dementia by the way). The staff asked the director to help, as she has always had a very good relationship with my mother.
So, the director was able to get her into the shower and cleaned up. Afterwards, she had turned around to grab some towels when my mother started saying, "You bastard. You son of a bitch. Look at you! Who are you? You are disgusting."
At first the director thought my mom was talking to her. She looked over and watched as my mother stared at herself in the mirror, calling herself every nasty name in the book.
There she was, looking right in the mirror, and not able to recognize herself. And that, in a nutshell, is dementia.
Imagine how frightening the world must be to a person who looks in a mirror and sees a stranger.
I had a conversation the other day with the unit director. I had gone by to visit and drop off a medical form that needed to be dealt with.
The director told me that the staff had been trying to get my mother to take a shower and she was being very uncooperative. She was in the bathroom calling people names and just generally being very disagreeable (very common with dementia by the way). The staff asked the director to help, as she has always had a very good relationship with my mother.
So, the director was able to get her into the shower and cleaned up. Afterwards, she had turned around to grab some towels when my mother started saying, "You bastard. You son of a bitch. Look at you! Who are you? You are disgusting."
At first the director thought my mom was talking to her. She looked over and watched as my mother stared at herself in the mirror, calling herself every nasty name in the book.
There she was, looking right in the mirror, and not able to recognize herself. And that, in a nutshell, is dementia.
Imagine how frightening the world must be to a person who looks in a mirror and sees a stranger.
Monday, October 8, 2012
News You Can Use #2
I have a great recipe to try if you and your family love granola. This is adapted from a Cook's Illustrated recipe. It is much cheaper to make your own, and there are endless variations you can try. I pack it almost every day for the kids' lunches - they either snack on it alone or mix it into yogurt. The beauty of this version is its chunkiness. Unlike the store bought kind, this granola has large and small chunks. The secret is pressing it into the baking sheet before it goes into the oven.
Here you go:
Preheat your oven to 300 degrees.
In a large mixing bowl, mix up 1/3 cup real maple syrup (spray the measuring cup with cooking spray to make the syrup come out easily), 1/3 cup light brown sugar, 1/2 cup vegetable oil, 2 or 3 teaspoons of vanilla (depending on how strong flavored it is), and 2 teaspoons of apple pie spice, pumpkin pie spice, or just plain cinnamon. Experiment and see what you prefer. Mix it with a spoon until well-blended.
To that mixture add 5 cups of old-fashioned oats (not the quick kind and not steel cut) and 2 cups of some kind of nut. I prefer chopped almonds or chopped pecans. But feel free to experiment with whatever nut you prefer.
Mix it all up, and spread it out on a baking sheet. I use a half-sheet pan and line it with parchment paper to make cleanup easier. After you've spread it out evenly, press it down onto the pan using the back of a spatula or some other flat instrument. This will ensure the chunks form.
Pop the pan into the oven for about 40 - 45 minutes, or until you can smell the nuts toasting nicely. While it is cooking, your house will smell terrific!
But you aren't done yet! When the time is up, remove the pan from the oven. Now is the time to spread over the top the dried fruit of your choice. I prefer golden raisins or dried cranberries. I've also experimented with dried cherries and dried blueberries. I was a bit disappointed with the dried blueberries - they were hugely expensive and didn't add enough fruity goodness to the finished granola. Dried cherries were fine, but next time I'll use a sweeter version. The ones I used were too sour.
The reason you put them in/on the granola after cooking is they will dry out or even burn in the oven. But sprinkling them over the still warm granola once it is out of the oven softens up the dried fruit without drying it out.
Once the granola has cooled, you can break it up into chunks. The nice thing is you get to decide how big or small you want the chunks! After I've done that, I put it into airtight containers and into my pantry. It keeps for more than a week, although I wouldn't know, since it only lasts about a week around here.
It's that good.
Here you go:
Preheat your oven to 300 degrees.
In a large mixing bowl, mix up 1/3 cup real maple syrup (spray the measuring cup with cooking spray to make the syrup come out easily), 1/3 cup light brown sugar, 1/2 cup vegetable oil, 2 or 3 teaspoons of vanilla (depending on how strong flavored it is), and 2 teaspoons of apple pie spice, pumpkin pie spice, or just plain cinnamon. Experiment and see what you prefer. Mix it with a spoon until well-blended.
To that mixture add 5 cups of old-fashioned oats (not the quick kind and not steel cut) and 2 cups of some kind of nut. I prefer chopped almonds or chopped pecans. But feel free to experiment with whatever nut you prefer.
Mix it all up, and spread it out on a baking sheet. I use a half-sheet pan and line it with parchment paper to make cleanup easier. After you've spread it out evenly, press it down onto the pan using the back of a spatula or some other flat instrument. This will ensure the chunks form.
Pop the pan into the oven for about 40 - 45 minutes, or until you can smell the nuts toasting nicely. While it is cooking, your house will smell terrific!
But you aren't done yet! When the time is up, remove the pan from the oven. Now is the time to spread over the top the dried fruit of your choice. I prefer golden raisins or dried cranberries. I've also experimented with dried cherries and dried blueberries. I was a bit disappointed with the dried blueberries - they were hugely expensive and didn't add enough fruity goodness to the finished granola. Dried cherries were fine, but next time I'll use a sweeter version. The ones I used were too sour.
The reason you put them in/on the granola after cooking is they will dry out or even burn in the oven. But sprinkling them over the still warm granola once it is out of the oven softens up the dried fruit without drying it out.
Once the granola has cooled, you can break it up into chunks. The nice thing is you get to decide how big or small you want the chunks! After I've done that, I put it into airtight containers and into my pantry. It keeps for more than a week, although I wouldn't know, since it only lasts about a week around here.
It's that good.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Finally!
It finally feels like fall around here.
I love living in California (well, most of the time) but I miss the change of seasons you get on the East coast. Here, we have rainy season and dry season, otherwise known as rainy season and fire season.
The pumpkins are in the markets, the leaves are turning on the trees, and it is no longer 95 degrees outside. I'm starting to think of stews, roast chickens, and pumpkin pies. Oh, we'll still grill when we feel like it - we grill 12 months out of the year around here. But rather than grilling because we can't stand to heat up the kitchen, we'll grill because we want to.
My younger son said he can't wait to sit and do his homework with a hot cup of tea - ah, the simple pleasures of childhood. But really, I want to sit and pay the bills, or read a book, with a hot cup of tea, too.
October is my favorite month.
I love living in California (well, most of the time) but I miss the change of seasons you get on the East coast. Here, we have rainy season and dry season, otherwise known as rainy season and fire season.
The pumpkins are in the markets, the leaves are turning on the trees, and it is no longer 95 degrees outside. I'm starting to think of stews, roast chickens, and pumpkin pies. Oh, we'll still grill when we feel like it - we grill 12 months out of the year around here. But rather than grilling because we can't stand to heat up the kitchen, we'll grill because we want to.
My younger son said he can't wait to sit and do his homework with a hot cup of tea - ah, the simple pleasures of childhood. But really, I want to sit and pay the bills, or read a book, with a hot cup of tea, too.
October is my favorite month.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
News You Can Use
You probably read recently about the kids in high schools around the country who are being systematically starved by the new school lunch program guidelines. Ok, that's a bit of hyperbole. But I just can't get my brain around guidelines that are calorie-based, as though all of us have the exact same caloric needs.
If you are a petite slender woman, you probably need overall fewer calories than a big, muscular guy, right? So why expect our teenagers to all have the same needs? Oh, right, I forgot. They are all obese, or at least that's what some in the media want us to believe.
In my little slice of heaven, we don't have any obese kids, or at least so few as to be almost non-existent. Our community prides itself on offering so much in the way of athletics that the few kids who don't play a sport are viewed as a bit strange. (That's wrong, I know, but true nonetheless.) And some parents shell out big bucks for club sports so that their little angels will eventually be drafted by the Angels. Didn't play club volleyball for four years? Don't bother trying out for the high school volleyball team. They'll laugh you right out of the gym.
My point is, we have kids who are seriously hungry.
My older son swims every day except Sunday, sometimes for two hours, and twice a week they have double practices - before school and then after school. A kid can get hungry swimming 3 - 4 hours in a day, not to mention the demands of school.
So, my suggestion is to pack your own food. Forget the school lunch program!
But wait, you say! I'm too busy! I can't find the time in my busy morning to pack a lunch for my child! I have a hard enough time getting myself out the door in the morning. It is much easier to hand Junior some money to buy lunch at school.
Here's my solution to the problem. I warn you - it is revolutionary. Prepare to be stunned.
Pack the lunch the night before.
Yes, you read that right - do it the night before. You have no idea how much less stressful the morning can be when you just pull out the bagged lunch from the refrigerator and hand it to your kid.
Better yet, teach your kid to be self-reliant and have him pack his own lunch. I know! What a concept!
I can already hear the objections. I can't do that, Bubble Lady, because my kid will pack a bunch of junk. Only I can pack a healthy lunch, and unfortunately I can only do that while I'm running around in the morning trying to get my mascara on.
Solution:
Ask your child to provide you with a list of items she deems acceptable for her lunch. Not each individual lunch, mind you, but a wide array of items she wouldn't mind seeing in her lunch on any given day. Buy enough of this list to have on hand, and coming up with lunch on a night to night basis (see how I did that?) is much easier.
After dinner, about the time the dishes are put in the dishwasher and the food is put away, pull out the lunch items (sandwich fixings, fruit, carrot sticks, yogurt, whatever) and lay it out. Pour a glass of wine for yourself and have a chat with your husband while you are getting the lunch put together.
See how easy that was? Or, if you are in the mood to teach some self-reliance, have your kid put together his own lunch while you are finishing up the dishes.
The exception to this rule is hot food. Sometimes one of my kids will ask for soup, so I get everything else ready the night before, and then just heat up the soup in the morning and throw the thermos in the bag.
So fight the Man! Tell big government to go stuff it! Pack your own lunches!
If you are a petite slender woman, you probably need overall fewer calories than a big, muscular guy, right? So why expect our teenagers to all have the same needs? Oh, right, I forgot. They are all obese, or at least that's what some in the media want us to believe.
In my little slice of heaven, we don't have any obese kids, or at least so few as to be almost non-existent. Our community prides itself on offering so much in the way of athletics that the few kids who don't play a sport are viewed as a bit strange. (That's wrong, I know, but true nonetheless.) And some parents shell out big bucks for club sports so that their little angels will eventually be drafted by the Angels. Didn't play club volleyball for four years? Don't bother trying out for the high school volleyball team. They'll laugh you right out of the gym.
My point is, we have kids who are seriously hungry.
My older son swims every day except Sunday, sometimes for two hours, and twice a week they have double practices - before school and then after school. A kid can get hungry swimming 3 - 4 hours in a day, not to mention the demands of school.
So, my suggestion is to pack your own food. Forget the school lunch program!
But wait, you say! I'm too busy! I can't find the time in my busy morning to pack a lunch for my child! I have a hard enough time getting myself out the door in the morning. It is much easier to hand Junior some money to buy lunch at school.
Here's my solution to the problem. I warn you - it is revolutionary. Prepare to be stunned.
Pack the lunch the night before.
Yes, you read that right - do it the night before. You have no idea how much less stressful the morning can be when you just pull out the bagged lunch from the refrigerator and hand it to your kid.
Better yet, teach your kid to be self-reliant and have him pack his own lunch. I know! What a concept!
I can already hear the objections. I can't do that, Bubble Lady, because my kid will pack a bunch of junk. Only I can pack a healthy lunch, and unfortunately I can only do that while I'm running around in the morning trying to get my mascara on.
Solution:
Ask your child to provide you with a list of items she deems acceptable for her lunch. Not each individual lunch, mind you, but a wide array of items she wouldn't mind seeing in her lunch on any given day. Buy enough of this list to have on hand, and coming up with lunch on a night to night basis (see how I did that?) is much easier.
After dinner, about the time the dishes are put in the dishwasher and the food is put away, pull out the lunch items (sandwich fixings, fruit, carrot sticks, yogurt, whatever) and lay it out. Pour a glass of wine for yourself and have a chat with your husband while you are getting the lunch put together.
See how easy that was? Or, if you are in the mood to teach some self-reliance, have your kid put together his own lunch while you are finishing up the dishes.
The exception to this rule is hot food. Sometimes one of my kids will ask for soup, so I get everything else ready the night before, and then just heat up the soup in the morning and throw the thermos in the bag.
So fight the Man! Tell big government to go stuff it! Pack your own lunches!
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Forgot Something?
My younger son rides his bike to middle school every morning. The routine is, he tells me he's going to leave, opens the garage door, and rides his bike out, and I close the garage door once he's on his way. This morning I glanced at his head, making sure he had his helmet on (he always does but I feel the need to check anyways), and I closed the door. I went back into the kitchen and started cleaning up the dishes.
Ten minutes later, I went into the other room to get something and sitting on the table was his backpack.
Hmm. I noticed he had his helmet on, but failed to see that he'd left his backpack at home. Evidently he was so anxious to get to school that he failed to notice he'd left his backpack at home.
Phone rang seconds later.
"Hi Mom. Guess what?"
"You forgot your backpack?"
"Yeah!" he replied, laughing.
"I'll drive it over now."
I know some moms who would be grousing about this, but I found the whole thing quite endearing. You've gotta love boys at this age.
Ten minutes later, I went into the other room to get something and sitting on the table was his backpack.
Hmm. I noticed he had his helmet on, but failed to see that he'd left his backpack at home. Evidently he was so anxious to get to school that he failed to notice he'd left his backpack at home.
Phone rang seconds later.
"Hi Mom. Guess what?"
"You forgot your backpack?"
"Yeah!" he replied, laughing.
"I'll drive it over now."
I know some moms who would be grousing about this, but I found the whole thing quite endearing. You've gotta love boys at this age.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Food Wars
I live in a community that has a regular weekend farmer's market - all certified organic, local, blah blah blah. All very nice (and pricy). Our local supermarket has an extensive organic section, and there is a Whole Foods nearby. I know many people who are harboring (illegal) chicken flocks in their backyards and never stop raving about the eggs. "Oh, they are so fresh! So wonderful! You have no idea how good they taste!"
Yes, that's all very nice. Seriously, I love all that stuff. I draw a line in the sand at the $25 organic free range chicken my son tried to talk me into buying at the farmer's market, but this is California, after all, and being a foodie is part of the state's DNA.
Our town also has an education foundation and PTAs that raise a huge amount of money for our schools. Also very good and nice. Just in case you think I'm talking about bake sales, or send in your check for $100 or something, I'm talking about a yearly request in excess of $1000 per child. Did I say every year? Again, this is California, where public school funding is always inadequate and makes no sense and it makes you want to scream. So communities that can do it, fundraise through their foundations. The schools here are great, and that's why people pay big bucks to live in crappy three bedroom ranch houses and write out checks for thousands of dollars every year for 12 years.
So why did my son bring home a cookie dough fundraiser brochure last week? Frozen cookie dough? Really? All the blather about childhood obesity and eating local and organic and the best the school can come up with is yet another frozen cookie dough fundraiser?
I went to a PTA convention once. They actually did a whole thing on healthy eating habits and how we need to encourage that in our children. While I was there I checked out the hall with all the vendors. I would guess that at least half of them were vendors peddling either frozen cookie dough or candy fundraisers.
If schools want to fundraise that way, go for it. But don't do that at the same time you force the kids to watch "Supersize Me" in science class. And don't expect my kid to go door to door peddling cookie dough while you are also expecting me to fork over $1000 every year!
Yes, that's all very nice. Seriously, I love all that stuff. I draw a line in the sand at the $25 organic free range chicken my son tried to talk me into buying at the farmer's market, but this is California, after all, and being a foodie is part of the state's DNA.
Our town also has an education foundation and PTAs that raise a huge amount of money for our schools. Also very good and nice. Just in case you think I'm talking about bake sales, or send in your check for $100 or something, I'm talking about a yearly request in excess of $1000 per child. Did I say every year? Again, this is California, where public school funding is always inadequate and makes no sense and it makes you want to scream. So communities that can do it, fundraise through their foundations. The schools here are great, and that's why people pay big bucks to live in crappy three bedroom ranch houses and write out checks for thousands of dollars every year for 12 years.
So why did my son bring home a cookie dough fundraiser brochure last week? Frozen cookie dough? Really? All the blather about childhood obesity and eating local and organic and the best the school can come up with is yet another frozen cookie dough fundraiser?
I went to a PTA convention once. They actually did a whole thing on healthy eating habits and how we need to encourage that in our children. While I was there I checked out the hall with all the vendors. I would guess that at least half of them were vendors peddling either frozen cookie dough or candy fundraisers.
If schools want to fundraise that way, go for it. But don't do that at the same time you force the kids to watch "Supersize Me" in science class. And don't expect my kid to go door to door peddling cookie dough while you are also expecting me to fork over $1000 every year!
45 Shades of Grey
I was at a board meeting last week for a small non-profit I'm active in. If that sounds impressive, rest assured it is not. We have monthly evening board meetings, as many of us are either employed or busy during the day with other things.
We were discussing a situation that needed to be resolved with one of the participants in the non-profit. The situation was certainly not cut and dry. There were lots of factors to consider, and we all weighed in with our take on things. One of the men on the board, in an attempt to sway us to his view of things, said, "well, look, I get that this thing has 45 shades of grey. But I really think we ought to ...."
Honestly, I didn't hear anything for a minute or so after that so I'm not even sure what he wanted to do. All of the women on the board (it's about half and half) jerked their heads upward, startled, and looked at each other.
I stared across the table at the very capable woman lawyer who's been on the board for several years. She looked back at me and her eyes got big. The woman sitting next to me shifted in her seat, cleared her throat, and gave me a subtle elbow. I glanced at her and grimaced.
The worst part was, he said it again about 5 minutes later. He clearly had no idea what he was referring to, and no one at the table was going to let him know that he'd just made an unintentional reference to a best selling series of Mommy Porn. And he hadn't even gotten the correct number of shades!
Look, I haven't read the book and don't intend to. I heard a couple of morning radio guys reading aloud from it and frankly it didn't sound that interesting. I am not in the least resentful of the author's success - in fact, I hope she is heartily laughing all the way to the bank. But now the phrase has made its way into the cultural lexicon and people are unwittingly using it during a non-profit board meeting. Make it stop already!
We were discussing a situation that needed to be resolved with one of the participants in the non-profit. The situation was certainly not cut and dry. There were lots of factors to consider, and we all weighed in with our take on things. One of the men on the board, in an attempt to sway us to his view of things, said, "well, look, I get that this thing has 45 shades of grey. But I really think we ought to ...."
Honestly, I didn't hear anything for a minute or so after that so I'm not even sure what he wanted to do. All of the women on the board (it's about half and half) jerked their heads upward, startled, and looked at each other.
I stared across the table at the very capable woman lawyer who's been on the board for several years. She looked back at me and her eyes got big. The woman sitting next to me shifted in her seat, cleared her throat, and gave me a subtle elbow. I glanced at her and grimaced.
The worst part was, he said it again about 5 minutes later. He clearly had no idea what he was referring to, and no one at the table was going to let him know that he'd just made an unintentional reference to a best selling series of Mommy Porn. And he hadn't even gotten the correct number of shades!
Look, I haven't read the book and don't intend to. I heard a couple of morning radio guys reading aloud from it and frankly it didn't sound that interesting. I am not in the least resentful of the author's success - in fact, I hope she is heartily laughing all the way to the bank. But now the phrase has made its way into the cultural lexicon and people are unwittingly using it during a non-profit board meeting. Make it stop already!
Husbands and Wives
Do you ever watch House Hunters on HGTV? I find it fascinating. I especially love the international edition. Any romantic notions I might have had about living in Paris, or Tuscany, are quickly tossed aside as soon as I get a look at what passes for decent plumbing or a workable kitchen in most of these places. The ones I could afford are hideous, and the ones I can't afford are for the most part only marginally acceptable. And I'm sorry if it makes me an ugly American, but I don't consider having your washing machine in the kitchen to be a benefit.
On the US version, when the house hunters are a married couple, often newlyweds, something invariably happens that makes me want to scream at the television. The couple will be looking at the house, commenting on the choice of flooring or the color of the kitchen cabinets, and then they get to the master bedroom. Specifically, the master bedroom closet. I would guess that at least 8 out of the 10 women will look at the closet and make some snarky comment to the husband along the lines of "nice closet honey, but where will you put YOUR clothes?" Ha ha ha. Sadly, most of the husbands --no, actually, make that all of the husbands just take it. Some of them sheepishly ask for a small corner. I saw one episode where the woman actually told her husband he would have to put his clothes in the spare bedroom. And he said okay!
Who are these entitled little girls? And why are the men they've married such wussies? I have two sons and here's what I'm going to tell them - guys, don't marry any woman who refuses to let you have an equal share of the closet. And don't appear on House Hunters with a woman who thinks nothing of belittling you on national television.
On the US version, when the house hunters are a married couple, often newlyweds, something invariably happens that makes me want to scream at the television. The couple will be looking at the house, commenting on the choice of flooring or the color of the kitchen cabinets, and then they get to the master bedroom. Specifically, the master bedroom closet. I would guess that at least 8 out of the 10 women will look at the closet and make some snarky comment to the husband along the lines of "nice closet honey, but where will you put YOUR clothes?" Ha ha ha. Sadly, most of the husbands --no, actually, make that all of the husbands just take it. Some of them sheepishly ask for a small corner. I saw one episode where the woman actually told her husband he would have to put his clothes in the spare bedroom. And he said okay!
Who are these entitled little girls? And why are the men they've married such wussies? I have two sons and here's what I'm going to tell them - guys, don't marry any woman who refuses to let you have an equal share of the closet. And don't appear on House Hunters with a woman who thinks nothing of belittling you on national television.
Life in the Bubble
Do you live in a bubble? I do. Not a prison, mind you, a bubble. A nice, sunny, pleasantly-scented bubble.
My bubble is a beautiful suburb of San Francisco. We don't have problems with major crimes or bad schools. Most of the kids are high-achieving, well-educated athletes with very nice cars and passports stamped with multiple Eurozone and Caribbean entries. There are a few foreclosures here, but not too many. The foreclosures happen quickly and quietly. Many of the moms stay at home with their kids, and many of the dads have high-paying jobs as stockbrokers, doctors, or software engineers.
People sometimes call our town "sleepy". Which it is, but only on the surface. Scratch a bit, and you'll find all kinds of juicy scandals and long-simmering resentments. Skinny, well-dressed women approaching middle age would willingly launch surface to air missiles at a PTA meeting over something as benign as a change in the policy on lunch-time recycling. (Hint: you need to be in favor of recycling, at all times.) Retirees will spend hours debating the stupidity of the city council at the local coffeehouse. A few of them will show up at every city council meeting, outraged about something.
Stay tuned. Life in the bubble is always interesting.
My bubble is a beautiful suburb of San Francisco. We don't have problems with major crimes or bad schools. Most of the kids are high-achieving, well-educated athletes with very nice cars and passports stamped with multiple Eurozone and Caribbean entries. There are a few foreclosures here, but not too many. The foreclosures happen quickly and quietly. Many of the moms stay at home with their kids, and many of the dads have high-paying jobs as stockbrokers, doctors, or software engineers.
People sometimes call our town "sleepy". Which it is, but only on the surface. Scratch a bit, and you'll find all kinds of juicy scandals and long-simmering resentments. Skinny, well-dressed women approaching middle age would willingly launch surface to air missiles at a PTA meeting over something as benign as a change in the policy on lunch-time recycling. (Hint: you need to be in favor of recycling, at all times.) Retirees will spend hours debating the stupidity of the city council at the local coffeehouse. A few of them will show up at every city council meeting, outraged about something.
Stay tuned. Life in the bubble is always interesting.
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