A Little Food-crazy

The other day, I remembered that I have a blog.  A sad, lonely, neglected little blog.  There's a lot going on and it felt like too much work to explain all the pieces here, but I think I may have found a way to connect my real life with my blogging life without over-sharing. 

To no one's surprise, that connection is food.

It all started with a lump that my mother-in-law found in her right breast.  Tests followed, with days of anxious waiting and then the confirmation no one wanted to hear.

Cancer.

Fuck fuck fuckety.  FUCK.

She had a mastectomy on Wednesday and is recovering with miraculous speed and ease.  Her oncologist told her that she's going to live another twenty years at least.  Her doctor prescribed a special diet which focuses on removing inflammatory foods and boosting consumption of anti-inflammatory foods, so I've had food on the brain even more than usual.  While the diet she's on isn't necessarily an official Paleo diet, the Paleo food philosophy lines up with the whole anti-inflammatory prescription.  A friend told her about the blog nomnompaleo, which has been a useful and entertaining recipe resource.  On Sunday, I spent about three hours reading that blog.

Then Tristan found this TED talk, which I've been watching on repeat.  All of this information has led to a minor existential crisis for me, both because I have to deal with the fact that my sons' Grandma is mortal and I feel mildly panicked at the thought of ever making another wedding/birthday/baby shower cake.  The main problem is sugar.  Eating sugar raises insulin levels.  It is literally insulin's job to stabilize blood sugar levels, and it does this by pulling sugar out of the bloodstream and into fat cells.  In other words, fat isn't necessarily made of fat, it's made of sugar(or wheat or corn or rice).  Insulin also triggers a process called angiogenesis(the growth of new blood vessels).  Cancer cannot survive without angiogenesis.  The really cool thing is that there are lots and lots of foods which are anti-angiogenic, and they are the sort of thing you might expect: berries, vegetables, tomato sauce, green tea.  Know what's not on the list?  Grains.  Of any sort.  Not even whole grains.  This is very bad  news for General Mills.  Metabolically, eating grains(and simple starches like potatoes, corn and rice) has the same effect on the body's insulin levels as eating sugar: insulin levels go up.

Now look at the staple food crops of America: corn, wheat, rice, potatoes; notice a theme?  Now when I look at those foods, all I can see is "inflammation, inflammation, inflammation."  I'm not saying that if you eat sugar or grain you're going to get cancer, or that if you stop eating those things you won't get cancer.  But I can't help but think of the nutrient opportunities each meal provides, and asking myself how I want to spend those opportunities.  Nutritionally, grains don't have a whole lot to offer.  I'd rather eat some pastured meat, lots of vegetables, maybe some roasted sweet potatoes.  Cherries and blueberries make a delicious dessert.  As a major benefit, if I skip the grains and simple starches I can eat an astonishing volume of food without feeling uncomfortably full.

I've already committed to three wedding cakes between now and September and I will craft them with love and enthusiasm, but I have this crazy idea; what if instead of cake, we started a tradition of, say, roasted free-range chicken with an assortment of roasted vegetables?  Why shouldn't the symbolic first food the bride and groom feed each other be about a commitment to be healthy and delicious, not just non-nutritionally sweet?  I realize the obvious setbacks to this proposal, but it still appeals to me. 

For now, I plan on spending more time in this space and trying to curb my food fanaticism just a little.  Refining my food philosophy, feeding my family well, and sharing the recipes here.

Toffee Innovation

I found a way to make my toffee better: cut it into squares. I made two batches to give away as party favors for Aaron's first annual company party, which was a huge success despite the fact that I forgot one of the batches of toffee in the freezer. I used a pizza cutter while the toffee was still hot, immediately after I'd pressed the nuts into the warm chocolate. It sliced through the foil as well so I had to peel it off each individual piece, but it was well worth the satisfaction of having neat little squares. Squares are such a satisfying shape. Especially when they're made of toffee. Also, I've gotten some consistent feedback about the heat level; medium-low takes too long. Last night I cranked it up to medium-high the whole time which worked fine, but I would advise turning down the heat slightly to, say, straight-up medium once the toffee starts to turn a nice golden brown or it cooks too fast. I also wanted to add that part of how you'll know it's ready to pour is that the toffee suddenly gets much easier to stir once the sugar liquefies- an indication that you're ready to pour it in about thirty more seconds. So I accidentally shortchanged the goody bags, but there was still enough toffee for everyone to take home a little treat, plus some mighty fine Russian teacakes. It was really fun to meet all these people I've heard so much about who've worked with Aaron through the years- The Electrician, The Tile Guy, The Plumber; their wives were pretty fun too. I have to say, introducing myself to a room full of people as "Aaron's wife" was a long-time fantasy fulfilled. Next year I will plan my wardrobe a little better; I left myself about 15 minutes to get dressed and the dress I pulled out of my closet was- guess- too big. I know, poor me. Poor, poor skinny me. Good thing I have that tray of forgotten toffee to fatten me up.

Little Things

My children eat like squirrels. So do some of their friends.

I like my food to look pretty; so do kids.

It is very, very cold now. We even had a tiny dusting of snow on our way home from Albert and Anna's, so we made hot chocolate to celebrate the First Snow of the Season. It's 9 p.m. on December 5th. Me: Aaron, tomorrow is St. Nicholas Day. Jack put his shoes by the fire and the stuff I got to put in there was in the bag we forgot at Whidbey. Aaron: Rite Aid?

You're Welcome

This toffee will be my gift to the world. I plan on giving it to most people I know for Christmas, but if you don't plan on dropping by my house this December you should at least plan on making some. It is devastatingly good, and I don't even like most dessert. It makes a beautiful gift when placed in a glass jar with a ribbon tied around it, and it keeps forever. At least, it would if it didn't disappear so quickly. Merry Christmas, world. Butter Pecan Toffee 3 cups white sugar 2 cups butter(don't panic, it makes a LOT of toffee) 2 1/2 cups chocolate chips or chopped chocolate pieces 1 cup toasted, finely chopped pecans, almonds, or walnuts Toast 1 1/2 cups of pecans(my favorite) on a baking sheet at 350 degrees for ten minutes. Cool and finely chop. Line a large, rimmed baking sheet with tin foil so the bottom and ALL the sides have a ridge of tinfoil over them. The baking sheet I used was 12 x 20 and made for the perfect thickness. You may want to scale the recipe down a bit if your baking sheet is much smaller or the toffee will be so thick it will hurt to bite into it(reduce the sugar to 2 cups and the butter to 1 1/2 cups, the chocolate chips to 2 cups). In a large pot(preferably one with two handles, the kind you'd boil pasta in) over medium heat, melt the butter and sugar. When the butter is melted, reduce the heat to medium-low. Stirring constantly(get used to it), caramelize the sugar. This takes quite a while, but don't get discouraged and walk away; the window of perfection is small, so be patient and pay careful attention. The sugar will begin to melt and brown, turning first a kind of pinkish color not unlike your standard sheer nylons. You're not there yet. Keep stirring. The sugar will continue to cook, and as you stir you'll notice that ribbons of color will swirl up from the bottom. You don't have to stir terribly fast, just a nice, steady constant; you don't want the sugar to stay in one place too long or it will burn, so don't rush things but keep it moving. After 15 minutes or so, the sugar will start to melt and you'll notice that it looks a lot less granular. It should start to turn the color of caramel, the kind you cover an apple with. You're still not there yet. Keep stirring. This is where you want to start doing a lot of smelling, because the toffee will smell a certain way when it's on the verge of perfect. It will smell almost like it's burnt, but it shouldn't be yet. It should be a very rich, deep caramel color, much darker than the color of brown sugar and have no visible sugar granules in it. DO NOT stop stirring. The instant that the toffee appears to smoke very slightly(you're there! stop stirring!), pour it into your foil-lined baking tray(this is not a good activity for kids. It's also not a good activity to attempt by yourself if you have kids around. Mine were at the movies.). I've timed it, and you've got roughly 15 seconds where the toffee is scorching hot but not burned. The hotter you get it, the crunchier it will be once it cools. If you don't cook it long enough it will be gummy instead of brittle. Very carefully tilt the baking tray so the toffee reaches all corners. Immediately(do not delay, waste no time) scatter the chocolate chips over the hot toffee.

After about a minute, the chocolate chips will melt.

Using a spatula(a butter knife works, but it's much less satisfying), carefully smear the melted chocolate over the toffee. Don't worry about mixing them together, the toffee will be set enough to keep to itself. Once the chocolate is all spread out, sprinkle the chopped nuts on top and very gently press them into the chocolate with your hand(it won't be hot enough to burn you, but be careful not to press hard). You're not actually pressing the nuts down into the chocolate, just encouraging them to stick together. At this point, you can grab a pizza cutter and slice the whole sheet of toffee into squares before cooling, or: Let cool, either in the fridge or a cool place outside where it will be safe from children and squirrels. Depending on the temperature, it should take 30 minutes-1 hour to cool completely. Carefully lift up the giant brick of toffee glory you've just created and peel off the foil. It should come off cleanly; if not, your toffee is probably still warm. Break it into manageable pieces with your hands, then cut into smaller pieces on a cutting board.

Revel in your success.

Make sure you save the scraps for sprinkling over ice cream.

Notes: You can use any kind of chocolate you want, but I like the ease of chocolate chips. I once used expensive semi-sweet chocolate which I painstakingly chopped myself, and I actually preferred the flavor of chocolate chips so I figure why bother? Do not, under ANY circumstances, touch the toffee while it's hot. It will burn like you wouldn't believe. Hold the pan very close to the baking sheet when pouring, and go nice and slow. It doesn't really splatter because it's so thick, but there's no sense in taking chances. Do not use margarine. You will end up with a big soggy mess and no toffee.

For all my stern warnings about constant stirring and hotness, this recipe is actually quite easy. I only screwed it up the first time I made it, and after that it got better each time. If you get it wrong, it will be pretty obvious why and you most likely won't make the same mistake the second time around.

What's Going On In My Kitchen

Picture courtesy of Matteas. I think he needs his own camera for Christmas.

A huge bowl of sweet potatoes. I made way too much filling.

Sage, thyme and butter.

Picture courtesy of Anna, who also did my dishes several times in between helping me roll pasta. She also brought me coffee that was like Christmas morning in a cup.

Brine for the turkey.

Cranberries for the turkey.

Foods I've Been Obsessing Over

Italian pink garlic. A few weeks ago, Aaron and I succumbed to the charms of a container of pre-peeled garlic from Costco. I'd always objected before; something about it kind of creeped me out. Being fall, I've been making lots of soup, and therefore using lots of garlic. I hate peeling garlic. I like it when the skin comes off nicely in one satisfying piece, but that so rarely happens and I usually end up picking little tiny shards of impossible-to-grip paper off the clove. So we tried the Costco stuff, and for a while it was pretty groovy. I didn't immediately notice any off-flavors in anything, and the convenience factor was pretty great. Then the garlic on the bottom of the container started molding, so I threw it out and bought some fresh garlic. The minute I cracked a clove I swore I'd never complain about peeling garlic again. While that probably isn't true, I will definitely never buy pre-peeled garlic again. Fresh garlic, and this Italian pink garlic from PCC in particular, has a much more complex aroma and taste than the pre-peeled stuff. The switch really made the differences clear. The peeled stuff smelled and tasted like garlic, but in a very one-note way, almost like bad garlic breath. The fresh garlic smelled, well, fresh, earthy, spicy, sweet and sharp, just so so fragrant and lovely. Anna introduced me to this fig spread, and I can't stop eating it. It's fantastic on crackers with blue cheese or goat cheese or mascarpone cheese, any kind of cheese that has a sharp bite to it. I love fresh figs, but when they're out of season or you want a richer figgy flavor, this spread is it. It takes the mild creaminess of fresh figs and makes it all fancy and mellow and a lot richer, deeply sweet like brown sugar or maple syrup, but not too sugary. Lately I've been eating it with plain yogurt, and for once I prefer low-gat yogurt to whole milk. The whole milk yogurt is too mellow and doesn't provide enough tang as a counterpoint to the darkness of the fig spread. Still, somehow I managed to power through an entire quart of whole milk yogurt and am making rapid progress on the container of the low-fat stuff. Squash. It's becoming a sickness, almost. I can't seem to make it out of the grocery store without at least one kind of squash in my cart, usually acorn or butternut. The little striped ones are the last of the delicata from our garden, the butternut is fresh from PCC. I find something different to love about each kind of squash and keep finding new ways to serve it; roasted with chicken and cranberries, cut into thin strips and made into 'fries,' cut in half and stuffed with quinoa and sausage, simply steamed and served with butter and brown sugar and once by accident goat cheese, which was delicious. That big beautiful butternut may well find its way into a soup this very night, as I have some creme fraiche in my fridge and few things in this life are lovelier than squash soup with creme fraiche. All this obsessing over my food sometimes leaves little time for other things, like cleaning. I hate, hate cooking in a dirty kitchen and always prepare my work space before cooking, but after cooking my kitchen often looks like this. We had company last night and I opted to visit after dinner rather than do the dishes. Jack has school today, so the kitchen will be my afternoon project. Plus I need to make a batch of chocolate chocolate-chip cookies to test a recipe I'm working on and I need at least one clean counter top.

Last Night's Dinner

I've never been a big fan of lamb, but I've always wanted to like it. What I'm figuring out is that I might not enjoy the taste of lamb straight up, but with the right spices and flavors it can be pretty delicious. It has such a rich, meaty flavor which, if allowed to run amok can result in something that tastes like it's been hanging out in a sweaty coal-miner's armpit for three days. Tantalizing, no? However, if you can rein in that lamb funk and tame it into submission, the result is a deeply-flavored, soul-satisfying meaty feast. It's worth the trouble. First, I chopped up a lot of fresh herbs and threw them on a plate with plenty of fresh garlic, salt and pepper. I rolled the lamb shanks in the mixture, then seared them off in hot olive oil and butter. When they were brown on all sides, I added a thinly sliced yellow onion to the pot, then some more garlic, diced tomatoes, white wine, red wine, and vermouth. I let it simmer on the stove for about 45 minutes, then tossed the whole pan in the oven for an hour and a half. When the lamb had about 40 minutes left in the oven, I threw in a pan of onions, carrots and parsnips. I used the 40 minutes to make polenta on the stove, and when it was all done I made everything cozy in a nice bowl and covered everyone with fresh parsley and lots of parmesan. The whole house smelled amazing, like Thanksgiving dinner had gone to Greece and Italy and gotten a sexy makeover(not that there's anything wrong with Thanksgiving dinner, I'm just saying). I liked it, but I feel like there was a spice missing. Aaron and Tristan said no and Trevor licked the pot clean, but I'd like to make it again and add some coriander and- I know this sounds crazy- nutmeg. People tend to associate nutmeg with sweet things like pumpkin pie, but I've used it with meat before and it gives a delicious-yet-subtle flavor; it doesn't taste sweet at all, just gives the meat a nice warmth and a little lift on the aftertaste. It cleans it up somehow while still keeping it savory. Drunken Lamb Shanks Serves 4 For the lamb: 3-4 lamb shanks, trimmed of fat and white covering(I used 3 large shanks and it fed 4) 1 TBS chopped fresh rosemary 1TBS chopped fresh oregano 1 TBS chopped fresh thyme 2 cloves garlic, crushed or minced 1/2 tsp. each salt and pepper 1 can plain(no herbs) diced tomatoes, drained 3/4 cup white wine 3/4 cupred wine 1/4 cup vermouth salt and pepper Place herbs, garlic, salt and pepper on a plate and toss together with a fork. Roll trimmed lamb shanks in mixture, pressing the herbs into the meat to coat generously. Heat a deep, oven-proof pot on medium-high and add 2 TBS of olive oil and 1 TBS of butter. When the oil and butter are hot, sear the lamb shanks to brown on all sides. Lay them in the hot oil/butter and DO NOT MOVE THEM FOR 1 WHOLE MINUTE before turning. You won't brown them if you move them around, you have to let them wallow in the hot fat. The only time you should touch them is when they're ready to be turned, at which point touch them only enough to turn them over and then leave them alone again. Browning meat likes its space. When the lamb is browned on all sides(which should take 4-5 minutes) add the onion. Let the onion cook with the lamb for 3-5 minutes, until the onion begins to soften. The thinner you slice the onion, the sooner this will happen. When the onions are soft, add 2 cloves crushed garlic. Stir in the garlic and cook for about 30 seconds. Then add the tomatoes, white and red wine, and the vermouth. Feel free to experiment with different wines, use all red or all white, skip the vermouth, add extra, use stock instead of wine...you want to end up with roughly 2 cups of liquid in your pot. Season with salt and pepper. Put a lid on the pot and lower the heat to a gentle simmer. Simmer 45 minutes, turning and basting the shanks with the broth every ten minutes so any exposed meat doesn't dry out. After 45 minutes, cover the pot with foil(use oven mits) and place in preheated 350-degree oven for an hour. After an hour remove the foil, spoon more broth over the shanks and place back in over for additional 40 minutes. If you are roasting any vegetables, put them in the oven(in their own dish) at this point. Use anything you like, but carrots were especially tasty with the lamb. My picture shows the onions whole, but I'd quarter them for faster, uniform cooking. Toss vegetables with salt, pepper and olive oil. Creamy Polenta Polenta is a delicious whole-grain starch that is often overlooked but is very easy to make and can be used as a base much the same way you would use mashed potatoes, pasta or rice. Polenta is just a fancy name for cornmeal. You can use fine or coarse; finer cornmeal will yield a smoother texture, but I like the rustic feel of the coarse. You can find it in the bulk foods section, or just buy a box of yellow cornmeal in the baking aisle. If using boxed, make sure it is plain cornmeal and not cornbread mix; this will have other ingredients in it(like baking soda) that you don't want in your polenta. You can use stock, water, or a mixture of white wine and water to cook your polenta. I used all chicken stock. If using wine, use only 1 cup white wine and the other 3 cups water or stock or the flavor will be too strong. 1/2 yellow onion, diced 1 clove garlic, minced or crushed 1 1/3 cups white or yellow cornmeal 4 cups stock or water 1/2 cup grated Parmesan In a sauce pan or high-rimmed skillet, cook the onion until soft with a little olive oil and butter. When the onion is soft, add the garlic, cook for 30 seconds, then add the cornmeal all at once. Stir to combine. Add the stock or whatever liquid you're using. You can add it all at once or a little at a time, like a risotto. Either way, stir every few minutes to avoid lumps until the cornmeal is tender, 20-30 minutes. Remove from heat. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in grated Parmesan. To serve, spoon a bed of polenta onto a plate or wide, shallow salad bowl. Place a lamb shank on top, put some roasted vegetables next to the polenta and lamb, then ladle broth from the lamb on top. Sprinkle with chopped fresh parsley and grated Parmesan. Garnish with a sprig of fresh rosemary. This is the sort of meal that will make a man love you, so be careful who you serve it to. Or at least be prepared.

You Are a Professional

Good food.

More good food.

I received a lovely and heartwarming e-mail from Kirianna yesterday, a reader from New Zealand who never leaves comments :) Seriously, you can leave me comments. I'd rather have this blog be more of a conversation and without comments it's just me standing on my soapbox. Don't get me wrong, I like it up here on my soapbox, but company is good too. Anyway, back to Kirianna's e-mail. She said she felt affirmed by my Mindful Eating post, and that she sometimes feels like the only person who thinks about food the way she does. Her e-mail, plus countless conversations I've had with Kayleigh, has inspired me to write this post addressing something I feel really passionate about: the American concept of "professionals." My mother is something of a renegade. She has a habit of reading a book about something and then doing it, like reupholstering furniture and having a baby at home. There is very little, if anything, that intimidates my mother. She doesn't have a degree to match every field in which she has become an expert, and she doesn't need one. I've always been profoundly grateful to my mother for having this quality, and for passing it on to me. Because of her example and experience, I had the courage have my first baby without any drugs. I remember lying in the hospital bed and the OB asking me what my plan for pain management was. Already halfway through labor, I replied "I'm just going to do it." Fogassy women would make good poster children for Nike: we just do it. There are times in life when you absolutely must defer to the knowledge and expertise of someone who knows more than you; for instance, if you need brain surgery. But a lot of the time your own judgment is your strongest resource. It puzzles me, considering our country's defiant beginnings, that as a society we have become so dependent on the qualifications of others. While it's important to recognize your limits and ask for help when you really need it, so often we sell ourselves short when it comes to our own capabilities. I could write a book about the evils of self-doubt and how many it robs of how much, but for now I want to address it as it relates to food(big shock, I know). Michael Pollan writes extensively on the subject of how paradoxical it is that a nation as unhealthy as America is seemingly so obsessed with healthy eating. If you want a good, approachable overview of our current food system and the effects it's having on our health, I'd highly recommend his book In Defense of Food, the subtitle of which is "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." It's good advice. For those who don't want to invest the time it takes to read an entire book, I propose a condensed version of Michael Pollan's common sense approach. Think about a food, any food, and the process it goes through to get from origin to grocery store. For most foods, there are way too many steps involved beginning with the genetic modification of the seeds for fruits and vegetables, the chemicals used in growing those fruits and vegetables, chemicals used to preserve and increase the shelf-life of fruits and vegetables...it's a daunting list. The process of how meat is raised and brought to market is even more complicated and disheartening. Michael Pollan points out that the way American food research works is inherently flawed. This is because of what he calls the "single nutrient" approach. In science it is often helpful and necessary to reduce the number of variables in a given experiment. Where food is concerned, this often ends up being a useless approach. For example, beta carotene. Michael discusses research based on observing how beta carotene is utilized in the body by subjects who either consumed it within a carrot, or took it in supplement form and did not eat carrots. The subjects who ate whole carrots were much more efficient at using beta carotene to its fullest advantage than those who merely took a supplement. This is true of ALL nutrients; science has yet to provide a superior source of nutrition than that provided by Nature. Pollan suggests that this may be because of non-nutrient substances found in whole foods that research has failed to identify, substances that may assist in the body's absorption of vitamins, minerals, and nutrients. Either way, it doesn't take a genius to realize that a carrot tastes better than a pill. Likewise, you don't have to be a doctor, chef or nutritionist to make healthy food choices. Simply put, try to choose foods that haven't been messed with. Animals that haven't been given drugs; fruits and vegetables that haven't been genetically modified; eggs from chickens who ate grass and bugs, beef from cows who grazed on grass and not corn. What all the research points to is that food is best the way Nature makes it. The good news is, you don't even have to know all the research to benefit from it, you just have to have common sense and a little bit of awareness in the supermarket. If you're interested in further reading, I highly recommend the following books. Unlike this post, they were extensively researched and are professionally cited. And just so I don't get myself into trouble, I feel compelled to state that I am not a professional nutritionist nor do I have a degree which would qualify me to advise anyone on what or how to eat. I just really love food. Good food. In Defense of Food, by Michael Pollan The Omnivore's Dilemma, by Michael Pollan Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, by Barbara Kingsolver

Mindful Eating

Today I read this article and it got me thinking about the way I eat and the way I want my children to eat. The way we feed our children now will shape the way they eat as adults. I realized this anew as the boys and I were driving to PCC this morning. We passed by a Burger King and Jack commented that they make "really gross food there that's bad for your body." I said he was right. He added, "But if you eat good food most of the time, it's okay to eat French fries once in a while." I said he was right again. He asked why someone would make that kind of food, so I explained that good food takes time. Lots of people are in a hurry and don't have time to slow down and cook. I have not always been the food snob I am today. In college, I often had a small bag of Frito's and a Red Bull for "dinner." I've always loved fruits and vegetables, but sometimes it was just too much trouble to access them. I feel differently now. After becoming a breastfeeding mother, I see so much more clearly the connection between what goes into our bodies and what comes out of them. This is still true for those who are not breastfeeding mothers: crap in= crap out. I'm not speaking literally here, I'm talking about energy levels, concentration levels, mood, fitness, sleep quality, allergies...I could go on, but I think you probably get the picture. I didn't realize how much my eating habits had improved until I regressed and really felt the effects. When I was in college and eating whatever was easy, I didn't really feel that bad. My body was young and able to compensate for a lot of the abuse I gave it, and I was running a lot which helped. After I had Jack and was home all the time, I got used to eating food out of the fridge. Generally, this meant more fruits and vegetables, yogurt, milk. I developed a sensitivity to sugar. Breastfeeding changed my metabolism, and refined sugar made me feel awful. I felt terrible if I ate it, nauseous, headache, lethargic. Four years later I can handle small amounts of sugar, but I don't really crave it and rarely eat it. About once a month I'll get the urge for something sweet and make brownies, and I usually have to resort to baking something because we don't really keep dessert in the house. Today as I was thinking about Jack's comments on fast food, I got to thinking about criteria for making good food choices. While I was in New York I ate a LOT of food and most of it was amazing, but once or twice I didn't feel great afterward. Most days I have the luxury of thinking about what I want to eat and then preparing it in my own sweet time, but in college I'd often get stuck in the lab and then I'd be so hungry when I was done I'd eat the first edible product I could find. I was not a mindful eater. I didn't think about where my food had come from, what was really in my food, how it would affect my body or how it would make me feel. Now I think about all those things, and realized that the ideal food is something that meets the criteria of Before, During, and After. What I mean by that is this: is it a food I'd consider eating before I reach the stage of irrational hunger, or am I compromising my standards out of convenience? Is it a food I enjoy during my meal? Is it a food that will make me feel good after, both in an immediate sense(is it so heavy that it gives me indigestion?) and long-term(will it make me fat or unhealthy?). Full disclosure: I have taken my kids to McDonald's. I have made frozen nuggets for dinner. When we go to Costco, we usually get the kids pizza. If anyone reading this babysits my kids, know that I appreciate the fact that you feed my children, period, regardless of what you actually feed them. However I should warn you that the last time we went to McDonald's Jack behaved as if he'd eaten crack instead of a cheeseburger and Matteas barfed his McNuggets all over himself. Don't say I didn't warn you. I find it interesting to note that there is a group of foods referred to as "convenience foods." Heart disease, obesity, high blood pressure and cholesterol are hardly convenient, but that's what you're going to end up with if your diet is made up of those types of foods. "Comfort food" is another interesting term; it usually connotes foods rich in fat and starch, which I suppose is pretty comforting if you like having a big fat layer of blubber wrapped around you. Nothing says "comfort" like cellulite. Seriously, I'm not afraid of fat, but I think it needs to be used thoughtfully and for maximum advantage. A kids' meal that contains 75 grams of fat is neither thoughtful nor advantageous. The type of fat is also important; the fat in a twinkie is chemically very different from fat in the cream of a grass-fed cow or the bacon of a well-raised pig. So, what about kids who are picky eaters? My brother-in-law Tristan was notoriously picky and has been known to fast for an entire day rather than eat his dinner. Eventually he got over it, and is now one of the most intrepid eaters I know. I wouldn't know how to deal with someone as stubborn as Tristan, but here's what I've done with my own kids: -take them grocery shopping. Introduce them to the idea of choosing their own foods. -let them see you eating the foods you want them to eat. They're not going to eat things they're not exposed to. -take them to PCC. Kids get to pick a single serving piece of fruit for free with every visit. It's a great(and thrifty) way to teach them about making deliberate food choices. -try, try again. I've been putting broccoli on Matteas' plate for about a year. Jack loves it, but Matteas never, ever touched it. One night this summer I was serving dinner and almost left the broccoli off Matteas' plate. He'd refused to eat it for a year, I figured nothing had changed. I was wrong. Something finally clicked, and he decided to try broccoli. He ate all of his, then stole Jack's when he thought his brother wasn't looking. He asked for more broccoli and refused to eat anything else. -give them what they like. If your kid loves carrots and apples but won't try other fruits or vegetables, give them carrots and apples. They'll diversify later. The bottom line is, good food takes time. It helps to be prepared; we almost always have cucumbers, string cheese and apples in the fridge so we have some healthy go-to options for low blood-sugar. I like buying the big tub of organic mixed greens from Costco so I always have a base for salad without having to do a lot of work. Think about the things you want to eat and then think of ways to make those things more accessible and easier to prepare- many vegetables can be chopped ahead-of-time, especially if you're making something like stir-fry. I often use the time when Jack is at school to do things like prep a chicken or cut a steak into strips for that night's dinner. I spend a lot of time and effort on food. I'm grateful that I can afford to. I think about it a lot, I take my time preparing it(I'd make a terrible short-order cook), and, perhaps most importantly, I really take my time eating it. Enjoying my food to the fullest is what keeps me from being fat; when you really enjoy each bite, you don't need as much to satisfy you. You also notice when you stop being hungry and move into eating strictly for pleasure, which isn't really a bad thing if you know you're doing it because you'll stop at a reasonable time. I've encouraged mindful eating in our kids by asking them what flavors they notice in their food(Jack is really good at this; he described sourdough bread as having "a good lemony taste") and, when practical, letting them help me cook. I try to cook with mushrooms whenever I can because each of the boys can have their own cutting board and a butter knife, and I will actually use the mushrooms they chop. Over brunch this summer, Alison Bernhoft asked me when it was that I began to love cooking. I'd actually never thought about it before, but her question made me realize that my love of food in general began with a particular meal eaten at my sister Moira's house. I don't remember what the main course was, but what I do remember is the salad with balsamic dressing. It was my first experience with non-mayonnaise based dressing, and it was tangy and sweet and completely different from anything I was used to. It's also really, really easy to make. Making your own dressing is a super healthy choice and, for me, was the birth of thinking about what it is I'm actually eating(read the ingredients in a bottle of Hidden Valley Ranch; do you actually know what 'calcium disodium EDTA' and 'disodium inosinate' are?). The beauty of eating truly good food is that it's good for everyone involved on every level; good for the soil, good for the body, and good for the senses. Basic Balsamic Vinaigrette The easiest way, I think, is to use a clear glass jar. I save jam jars expressly for this purpose. First, add several glugs of balsamic vinegar. You don't have to measure because the amount isn't important right now. Next, carefully add olive oil until you have two parts vinegar to one part oil.

Add a dash of salt; if you really want to measure, use the palm of your hand. Be conservative, as you can always add more later if you need it. Add a few grinds of pepper.

Put the lid on and shake it. Congratulations; you've just made balsamic vinaigrette. As you get more comfortable with vinaigrette you can add things like dijon mustard and herbs, but for your first time out I'd recommend keeping it simple. Pour over your favorite salad. It's fantastic with mixed greens, tomatoes, cucumbers, green onion, feta or goat cheese, and any kind of toasted nut. Experiment, I really haven't met a vegetable that doesn't like balsamic vinegar. Leftovers can be stored in the fridge; if the oil hardens, simply leave the jar out on the counter until it warms to room temperature. Always give the jar a shake before using. Matteas loves it poured over plain sliced cucumbers. You can, of course, use other vinegars in place of the balsamic. The reason I started with balsamic is because it's sweet enough that you don't need to add sugar, something I usually do with harsher vinegars like red wine or apple cider, and I wanted to keep the recipe as basic as possible. The above recipe also works beautifully with lemon juice in place of the balsamic, but in that case I'd increase the amount of olive oil to 50/50. I like my lemon vinaigrette with baby arugula, shaved Parmesan and lots of freshly ground pepper.

The Big Apple

I finally did it: I bought a ticket to New York to visit Kayleigh. Since buying my ticket I have been obsessing over where we should eat; we'll most likely cook most meals at Kayleigh's, but there are a few places I feel I have to try. There are so many big food names in New York it's going to be really difficult to pare my list down to a reasonable few, but how to choose? I know I want to go to Craft, but beyond that it's nearly impossible to choose. I love Mario Batali, but which restaurant to try? He's got, like, five just in NY. Do I want to try family-style Italian or Spanish tapas? My first choice was Del Posto, but they require a reservation a month in advance. Once I think I've made up my mind, I start thinking of all the food I might miss; don't even get me started on trying to choose just one of Daniel Boulud's restaurants. It's kind of challenging to try deciding who's food I want to eat without ever having tasted it, but I feel like you can tell a lot about a chef by the way they talk about food and how they treat their ingredients. Part of me is a little anxious to try any of it; it would really rock my world if it turned out that the only talent with food Tom Calicchio has is talking about it. The thought has me so worried that I actually took my hands off the keyboard and held them over my mouth just now, as if to keep myself from saying something blasphemous. I also read some distressing reviews about Le Bernardin, Eric Ripert's restaurant. I'm thinking a good compromise will be to have lunch instead of dinner, which would be cheaper and that way I could try more places and spend the same amount of money. Anyone had any fabulous meals in NY?

Eggs Florentine Revisited

It started with last weeks' Top Chef, when the chefs were challenged to deconstruct a classic dish and make it their own. In culinary terms, to "deconstruct" means to take apart the basic components of a dish and rework them in a way which results in a totally different presentation and composition but keeps the same flavor profile. The idea is that you might not know what you're eating until each of the components is assembled on your fork and you taste them all together, resulting in a kind of lightbulb moment. Deconstructing food is something that is sometimes used to keep the familiar flavors of a classic dish while cleaning it up and modernizing it, sometimes making it healthier and sometimes just making it new. One of the chefs was assigned Eggs Florentine, which he had never heard of(it's Eggs Benedict with wilted spinach added or used as a substitute for the ham or bacon). He presented a sad little plate of wilted kale and a fried egg. He wasn't sent home for it, but he certainly didn't win either. Aaron asked me how I thought I'd fare as a Top Chef contestant and I replied that I'd probably panic and pee my pants; most of my recipes evolve over time as I make a dish over and over, gradually tweaking flavors and preparations. That being said, I've been obsessing over Eggs Florentine for a good week now. This is quickly becoming my favorite lunch; I made a simple arugula salad with lemon juice, salt and pepper, then topped it with cubed ham and a poached egg. This is the kind of food I love to eat; clean, simple, and using just a few good-quality ingredients. When you're only working with 3-4 ingredients, quality is going to make or break the dish. Wilted greens, reconstituted meats, or flavorless eggs would all spell disaster for something like this. It was amazing just the way I made it, but then I saw Jack's leftover peaches from breakfast sitting on the table. I added a chunk of peach to one bite and was instantly converted; it tasted like a crazy combination of Eggs Benedict and Hawaiian pizza. I once heard a chef describe the perfect dish as one that includes something salty, something sweet, something crunchy and something smooth. This salad is it. Salty ham, sweet peaches, smooth egg yolk and crunchy arugula, all brought to life and tied together with a gentle kick in the pants from the lemon juice. Aaron does not approve of me mixing fruit with savory dishes, but I loved it. Eggs Florentine Salad with Peaches A handful of baby arugula, washed and dried 1/3 cup cubed ham 1-2 eggs 1/2 ripe peach, cut into hunks Lemon juice Salt and pepper Throw the arugula on a plate and sprinkle it with salt and pepper. Slice a wedge off a lemon, remove the seeds(if any) and squeeze the lemon wedge over the arugula. Toss to coat. Cube the ham. You can put it directly in the salad cold, but I really like heating it in a frying pan just until the edges brown a little. If heating the ham, set it aside until the eggs are done and plate them with the salad all together(too much heat too soon will wilt the greens too much). Fill a small pot with water and heat it to a bare simmer. While you're waiting for the water to come up, cut the peach and add it to the arugula(please, for the love of food, do NOT use canned peaches). Crack eggs, one at a time, into a small bowl and pour carefully(again one at a time) into the simmering water. Cook 3-5 minutes, until whites are set but yolks are still soft. Use a slotted spoon to scoop up the eggs and gently poke them with your finger until desired firmness is reached. Immediately place on top of arugula. This would also be delicious with bacon.

I Don't Usually Do This

Decorate, that is. It's strictly a seasonal thing for me and while I don't usually like stuff cluttering up my mantle, I get it all dressed up for Fall and Christmas.

From the garden...

...to the kitchen...

...to the table, all in the same morning. I have to say, growing and roasting your own pumpkin and then making pie with it makes it taste a thousand times better. The pumpkin tastes light, creamy and nutty, with none of that metalic canned flavor. I've made lots of pies from canned pumpkin and will probably make lots more of them when my own pumpkins are gone, but for me this pie sets the bar for what pumpkin pie should be. The smell of roasting pumpkin is pretty amazing; warm, buttery and rich. As opposed to the smell of a freshly-opened can o' pumpkin, which has sometimes prompted Aaron to ask if the baby has a dirty diaper. Somehow, both of our boys have a love of pumpkin pie. I cannot remember liking it as a child and it doesn't really strike me as a kid type of dessert, but they put this stuff away like nobody's business. When we make our own and I know exactly what's in it, I even let them have it for breakfast. I'd do it just for the flavor factor, but I also love what growing our own food has taught the boys about being good stewards. They are legitimately concerned about how we treat what we usually think of as our lowliest commodity, or something we wipe off of our feet and clean off of our hands before we eat: dirt. It's important stuff. The saying goes "You are what you eat," but it's actually a little further back than that: you are what your food ate. In the case of fruits and vegetables, that means the dirt. It's kind of funny to think about keeping dirt "clean," but I've thought about it a lot since having kids. For one thing, they eat a lot of it directly. Straight, no chaser. Okay maybe some rocks. But since we've started to do so much gardening, the quality of our dirt is a big deal to me. I don't want crap in there because eventually I'm going to feed what comes out of there to my kids. I think if everyone grew their own food, even just one or two vegetables, it would radically change the way we think about pollution.

Harvest

Today was an amazing day; we had the first yield from our potato garden. It was pretty much garden pandemonium at our house. Back in March, the boys helped plant these potatoes and we anxiously watched the first dark green shoots make their way through the dirt and grow measurably larger each day. Jack and Matteas made a commitment to these potatoes and watered them faithfully each day, something which was necessary after 27 straight days of sunshine

Patiently, we watched the plants grow and finally, flower. I think I might have been the giddiest of the three; it was indescribably satisfying to watch my kids plant, tend, and harvest their own food. Matteas isn't quite two, but he can add "potato farmer" to his list of skills.

Matteas calls them 'toes, and he was running around the yard clutching his treasures and shouting "Toes!" at the neighbors

It was like an Easter egg hunt, pulling up clumps of earth and finding jewel-colored orbs nestled in a tangling of roots and soil. The sounds we made upon seeing our prize was more like what you'd expect from people watching fireworks, but this was way more exciting. We couldn't keep bounty like this to ourselves, so we invited Trevor and Tristan over for dinner. I made roasted pork tenderloin with spiced pears, cut some fresh arugula and dressed it with lemon vinaigrette and shaved Parmesan, then steamed the potatoes and tossed them with butter and salt. The boys(including the big boys) were picking around their meat to get to the potatoes. It was more than just the romance of having grown our own food, they really were far and away the best potatoes I've ever eaten. They were much sweeter than store-bought, and the texture...it was as if the potatoes had somehow grown heavy cream into their very flesh, waxy, smooth, and almost custard-like in their silkiness. I wish I had pictures of Matteas shoveling large bites into his mouth and furrowing his brow in pleasured concentration, but I couldn't stop eating long enough to get the camera. There were no leftovers. Even the last tender leaf of arugula was scraped from the bowl, and by Tristan no less, who claims to hate salad. I am so looking forward to more harvest parties; we haven't even gotten into the tomatoes(six kinds), cucumbers, squash, pumpkins, onions, raspberries or carrots.