Take Two (helpings)

We went to my wonderful mother in laws house for Thanksgiving this year, so I didn't get to cook the big feast. So, I decided to do a mini Thanksgiving supper here for the four of us. I'm roasting a chicken rather than a turkey, and I brined her for only a few hours in salt, sugar, pepper, and a bay leaf. She had an olive oil massage, and a nice herb scrub of salt, pepper, and poultry seasoning. She has an onion quartered and bay leaf in her tummy cavity, she's sitting on a roasting grid atop chicken stock and lemon juice.

With her in the oven is a huge tray of dressing. There was so much left over from the real Thanksgiving, that I just broke it all up, added beaten eggs, a lot more stock, and a little more salt and poultry seasoning, and put it back in the casserole dish and I'm baking it again. It was crumbly instead of cakey, and I like the cakey version a little more.

There are a few new potatoes diced up and sitting on the stove waiting for My Honey to come home from work, then I'll boil and mash them. And Boo has requested green beans. We don't like the traditional green bean casserole in our house, so we're just having steamed green beans, which we all like just fine.

And of course, I'll make gravy. DUH! Brown melted butter a little bit, add gluten free flour to make the roux, then add my home made chicken stock until I've got enough gravy. 

Hahaha! I'm so funny! 

There's never enough gravy. I was just seeing if you were paying attention. 

And yes, I consider all of this to be "real food", as I know exactly where everything came from. Made the brad for the stuffing, made my own stock, and cut up whole potatoes. I didn't grow anything being consumed tonight myself, but there is nothing artificial or unpronounceable in anything in our upcoming supper. Now, it's not Paleo, because I'm having potatoes and using rice and corn flour, so don't send hate mail, nasty tweets or ugly facebook comments regarding my use of the term "real food". 

Might be time to open the Cab Franc for My Honey and I to enjoy with supper. WHAT?!?! Oh, HELL NO, she did not just say she was going to drink red wine with poultry, did she?  U-hum ... Uuuu... Yeah, I did. It's good, and I've been telling y'all, eat what you like. It's simple. Enjoy your own taste bugs. Don't let someone else dictate what you eat or drink based on what THEY like, or what some long dead person once said this is "what you do". A perfect example is Moscatto. I don't care for it, myself, but one of my dearest friends LOVES it, so I have it here for her when she visits. It's not about anything other than what you like. She likes it, and I like her to be happy. So I buy Moscatto when she's coming over because I love her. 

I smell the stuffing, which means it's done. Gotta go check on it.

Stay hungry and play with your food. (You might like it.)

Ps, it looks GOOD!

Bad Girl, Good Girl, I love them both.

I'm going to pour out the last of my sugar free pumpkin spiced latte coffee mate and my sugar free caramel macchiato creamers. I'm wondering if they are, in essence, gateway treats/poison that I'm starting every day with. Am I setting myself up for failure by grabbing an artificial substance and ingesting it...A LOT OF IT first thing in the morning? I'm drinking two or three cups of caffeinated coffee each morning with probably the equivelant of a quarter of a cup total of a sugar free, non-dairy creamer. Ew. Why? (Because it's delicious!) (Argh!) (You know it is!) (Look, damnit! Shut up!)

I'm really going to try to(!!!) focus on foods in their original, whole state. Within reason, of corse. I mean, I'm not going to bring home a whole cow for Christ's sake, the HOA would have a kiniption! But being smart about what we eat really is important to me. Being healthy is more important, and when I look at the fact that I'm pretty good about what I eat, but not good about how much I'm eating, or what and how much I drink, I realize I'm being rather hypocritical with myself. For instance... Why are there foods and beverages I won't let my children consume, but I happily guzzle and scarf up myself? Isn't that odd? And why were there things that I wouldn't dream of touching while pregnant, yet gladly jumped right back into once I was past breast feeding? 

Just because I can make the decision to be stupid, doesn't mean I should decide to be stupid. 

Know what I mean? But it's a constant battle with me though. An amazing war of fights between what tastes great, what's easy, what's available, what's healthy, and then that "easy" part comes swirling into play about ten or more times throughout the entire thought process. 

Wait a minute... So that's the key, isn't it? I need to have things already here that I know I love, that are healthy and ready to eat right away, or prepped and ready to cook. The side of me that craves immediate gratification will need to be satisfied. Let me put it another way, she WILL be satisfied, whether I plan ahead or not. She's a demon, that one. I'm telling you, when she gets it in her head that she wants/needs something, there are few things to get in her way. I'm sure there's some deep seated emotional reason for this. There are psychiatrists frothing at the mouth wanting to get their hands on just one of my psychosis. And believe me, there is quite a stockpile in here.

A few givens here:

1) I love food.

2) I love wine.

3) I love to cook.

4) I need to lose weight.

5) I need my overall health to improve.

All of the above can very easily be taken care of with a little pre-planning (isn't that a given? I mean, how would one post-plan something?) and a little discipline. 

I despise discipline. (Understatement)

But I like being in control. (Massive understatement)

Interesting inner struggle I have going on here... Do y'all have this going on inside too? Do you have the constant battle of the good side and the bad side? How do you satisfy the bad side while letting the good side maintain control? Right now my bad side is fully in control, and I have to find a way to make that switch.

Please share. 

And in the meantime, stay hungry and play with your food.

Baking My First Gluten Free Bread

Here's the recipe from the back of the "Bloomfield Farms Gluten Free All Purpose Baking Mix". 

I'll be using this recipe again with different gluten free flour blends in the future, and I'll report back on the quality. I found this box at HomeGoods, in Gainesville Virginia.

But here's what I did differently than what the package said.

I used all the exact quantities and ingredients listed. Not being a baker, or a chemist, I do tend to follow measurements when baking. 

Sometimes. 

So, I let the yeast bloom in the warm water and sugar.

I cracked the 3 eggs directly into the bread machine's pan. I put the salt directly in with the eggs. I put the flour in, then poured the melted butter onto the flour, being careful to not let the warm butter "cook" the eggs on contact. I put the honey in, then poured the bloomed water, yeast, sugar mixture on top. I turned it onto its "Basic White" setting, and let it do it's thing. I have the same Zojirushi bread maker I bought 20 years ago (OH MY GOD, can that be RIGHT? Am I that old? CRAP!) and it's still making fantastic bread! It cost a flipping arm and a leg, but after 20 years, still worth every penny.

This being my first home baking experience of GF bread, I didn't know what to expect. It didn't look like it was mixing, so I helped it with a wooden spoon. After several more minutes, it still didn't look like it was fully mixing, so I stirred it MORE. It didn't form a smooth ball like I'm use to. It didn't look anything like any bread I've ever made. It looked like a mixture of pancake and buscuit dough. But, it rose. It smelled like bread, and it was rising. Science is science, so let's just let the yeast and heat do it's thing. Remember, this was an experiment, and I was really just hoping for a minimal "bread-like" substance that I could cube up, toast into croutons, then make into dressing.

I let it go through it's full cooling cycle, then out it came. Bread knife in hand, room temp 1 Tb butter on counter waiting, I cut about a 1" slice off the top (which wasn't poofed up like you usually see bread, in fact, it was sunken and looked like a dried bowl of oatmeal), spread the butter on it, and took a bite. 

Yyyyyyyuuuuuummmmmmm.... Warm, soft, great texture, amazing flavor, with a great crumb and crust. Oh yes... This is GOOD!! I even shared it with the kids! Nope, I didn't hide it, or even tell them that it was "special mommy/daddy" bread, which I may or may not have done in the past.

It will be made again. Oh yes... It will be made again.

SH & PWYF.

Thanksgiving Prep: Tuesday Style

It's the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and I'm bouncing foot to foot excited about the prep, the cooking, the feast, the food, the wine, and the stuffing and gravy. We're headed to my Mother-In-Law's house this year for the family feast, so all I'm making is a gluten free dressing for us G-F'ers, and the cranberry relish from yesterday's post.

Today I'm starting the bread baking for the dressing. I have a GF bread recipe in the bread machine, and later on I'll make the corn bread. I'm starting two days early because it has to sit out to get dry and stale in order to be the best dressing. NOT MOLDY, but stale. There's a HUGE DIFFERENCE. Don't mistake them for the same. Not delicious. I'm also starting early because I've never made GF bread before. If it doesn't turn out "right", I'll need to make another batch. I'm also using my bread machine, and the recipe didn't have directions for using a bread machine, so it's an experiment to the fullest degree right now. Y'all know I can't follow a recipe...

If you're making turkey, you can start your brine now if you'd like. You need to brine for at least 12 hours, but longer is perfectly fine, and will not hurt the outcome. Remember to thoroughly rinse your bird after you remove her from the brine before cooking! I've allowed mine to soak in plain cold tap water for about 15 minutes to ensure all the exterior salt is washed away. You don't want the skin to be too salty. Don't ruin that Turkey Candy!

You should also start your stock today. Mama use to be able to find turkey wings and legs (they sell only breasts, don't they... Well, they have to have a few wings and legs somewhere belonging to those turkey's) to make her stock, but I can't find them. I haven't gone to an official butcher or meat counter, or specialty store, however, so please don't think that my half-assed "search" is anything more than just that...half-assed. Put your turkey or chicken parts into your largest stock pot. Add celery, onions, carrots, bay leaves, rosemary, sage, salt, and pepper.. Cover with water, and simmer all day, then let it cool so you can fish out the meat pieces, the celery, carrots, and onions to include in your stuffing/dressing. Refrigerate the parts you want to add to your stuffing, refrigerate your stock, and throw out the bones and herb stems and bay leaves.

If you're using stock you already have on hand, either homemade or store bought, you'll still want some sautéed onions, carrots, and celery to go in your stuffing/dressing, so start that today. Small dice, sautéed in butter over low heat with sage, rosemary, salt, pepper, and thyme. Let cool, then put into a sealable container in the fridge until it's time to mix the stuffing/dressing. This is the preferred method for those of us who work your standard 40-50 hour work week in an office or other job away from the home and you don't have the ability to spend 3 days in your kitchen prepping for one meal, but still want a dreamy homemade taste. Do little things ahead of time using fresh ingredients, and it will taste like you spent hours upon hours slaving away.

And remember to relax and enjoy your day. Yes, this is ONE dog. 

Stay hungry, and play with your food.

Super Bowl of Gravy

Sports fans all have their different, yet individually unique end-of-season finale. Football has The Super Bowl, baseball has The World Series, soccer has The World Cup, and so on and so on. But for us foodies, we have Thanksgiving. We wait all year to wow our friends and family with an extravigent array of foods stemming from some form of a historical version or interpretation if what we think the settlers had after that first years harvest. Our food magazines start coming in September, tempting us with pictures of pumpkin pie, new casseroles made with wild rice, seeds, and different varieties of squash. We start to salivate, picturing something a little like that on our table. Y'all know that I hardly follow recipes, but I do love to see what others are cooking. I take ideas and turn them into things that I want to eat. I imagine the flavors, then I imagine a few of them changing. I can "see" what it will taste like if I make a little change here and a little change there. 

My mom didn't have any of her Thanksgiving recipes written down. At least not that I've found anywhere. My sister may have them, but I honestly don't know. So each year for my Thanksgiving, I just go in blind and try to recreate what my taste bugs remember from childhood. What I would love to have is her dressing recipe written down. I try every year to match what she use to do, and I have yet to get it right. It was cornbread and buscuits. Sautéed carrots, onions, and celery with homemade turkey stock. There as a lot of sage, rosemary, and thyme but I don't know the exact proportions. 

I also enjoy adding new dishes each year. Things that I see on Food Network, or read about in a magazine. I found a cranberry sauce recipe a few years ago that included pears and ginger. I loved it! I grew up with both cranberry sauce, and another cranberry dish that we called cranberry relish. We used the meat grinder to grind cranberries, oranges, and apples, then mixed them all together, added sugar, and let it sit over night. It was my job, since it didn't require cutting or the stove/oven. Mama would cut and core the apples for me, and cut the oranges so they fit into the grinder. This year, I'm thinking I'll make a mixture of the two. I usually make both, and we have way too much. I don't have a meat grinder, so into my food processor, I'll pulse the cranberries and then dump them into a bowl. I'll zest the oranges, then put the sections into the processor to get a good pulse/chop as well. Mama use to do the whole orange, but it think the pith makes it bitter, so I'll take an extra step and zest, then get the sections out separately. This will allgo into the bowl as well. Then the apples will have their turn in the processor. I'll do the pear the same way as the apple, then I'll put a piece of "ginger in syrup" into the processor as well. After everything is chopped nicely and stirred happily in their bowl, I'll add sugar to get to the perfect stage of tart and sweet. 

I'll also be making a batch of gluten free stuffing/dressing, by making gf cornbread and other breads as it's base. I don't think there is such a thing as too much dressing, and to be honest, the dressing and gravy are all I'm after on Thanksgiving. Yeah, the turkey is supposedly the "star", but on my plate, I put the things that assist in getting gravy into my mouth with the least amount of embarrassment. I honestly have anxiety about going to other families homes for Thanksgiving because I know there won't be enough gravy. I could sneak some into a flask, and smuggle it in. And by flask, I mean a 5-gallon Gatorade dispenser. 

Play with your recipes and your food. You might just like it.

Magic

I have a little boy upstairs with a gap in his perfect smile, a special pillowcase with a little pocket sewn in, and his first baby tooth tucked warmly down in that special pockets' safety. He's so excited, he's exhausted. We read extra stories tonight and stayed up a little later than normal. We called GranMa at home, and Daddy at work to tell them that our tooth finally came out. I posted a ton of pictures to Facebook, sent pictures via email to the family members who aren't on Facebook, and those who aren't on the social site very often. 

I really don't know who's more excited about all of this.

Let me back up a bit. I wanted to be a high powered executive in NY with a penthouse apartment with a killer view, a huge grand piano in the center of an immaculate apartment that was perfectly arranged and totally picture worthy at any given moment. I wanted glamor and glitz to the max. I pictured myself in a business suit during the day, a little black cocktail dress at night, and sleeping in satin jammies. Every day. If I were going to watch something on TV, it was because a close friend was featured in a documentary. Kids were always a part of that, but they were in the background somewhere. Perhaps off at a private school, or being tended to by the nanny. This is how I pictured my adult life.

Then, several years ago, I fell in love. I fell in love with a man who had known what his kids names were going to be from the time he was about ten years old. On our second date he told me what our kids names were going to be. I was a little freaked out. I had just graduated college. I was ready to get out of Virginia, head to NY, buy my first suit and grand piano and get going on the glitzy life I'd always dreamt of. There had already been setbacks in my plan. Life and death can't be controlled or fully mapped out, so my path had several rocks, streams, and downed trees along the way. At each of these pauses along the path, I fully enjoyed the obstical. On the rocks, I stopped and looked around. Perfectly happy to pause and breath. At the streams, I grabbed a raft and floated along, not knowing or minding where it took me. At the downed trees, I either balanced and walked along them to the other side, or I jumped and climbed over them to the other side. 

Then, one of these paths led me to an area I never saw coming. I remember the exact moment when I knew I wanted to marry this man and be the mother of the children he had envisioned since his childhood. I no longer wanted the glossy magazine life. I wanted to make supper, do laundry, walk dogs, grocery shop, change diapers, and sleep in oversized T-shirts. I wanted to arrange throw pillows, snuggle in front of the fire watching Disney movies, and tuck the little ones into bed. I wanted to teach a little girl how to braid her Barbie's hair and climb a tree, and wanted to go to little league games and soccer matches. Sudenly, there was an immediate shift from wanting things that would enrich MY life, to wanting to enrich the lives of the people I loved MORE than me. I hadn't even met them yet, but I knew them, none the less.

The lives of these people mean more to me than I ever imagined possible. The sparkle in their eyes when we talk about the tooth fairy, and Santa Clause is far more valuable than the sparkle in a diamond. The smell of their perfectly sweet morning breath when I get my morning kisses, and hear, "good morning, Mommy", is more intoxicating than a room full of exotic orchids. 

The magic in their childhood is a joy to both them and to me. Creating that magic and watching them sparkle and shine is an incredible gift. I wrote above, that I wasn't sure who was more excited about the first tooth fairy visit, and it's the absolute truth, but I kinda think it's me. Being a part of one of the greatest magical moments in a child's life as a parent is honestly better than being the child. Gearing up for Santas visit this year is already exciting for all of us. The tooth fairy's visit, the Easter Bunny next spring. These magical moments in a child's life are the things dreams are made of. Keeping the mean and scary world away, for as long as I can, is what I want. Yes, they'll grow up. They'll see things that make them sad, and they'll see things they don't understand. But through all that, they'll also know they can turn to us, their Mommy and Daddy, and have a hug that will magically make the scary seem less real. There's a certain magic in a Mommy/Daddy snuggle that remains throughout life. 

And perhaps, just perhaps... That magic is deeper, more special, and sparklier when you're the Mommy or Daddy, and you're the one giving the hug to your Boo and Pooky.

Tomatomygod Soup

I have to say... I love myself just a little bit more right now.

You see, I desperatly wanted tomato soup, but didn't have any in the can in the pantry, so I made some using my homemade chicken stock, a can of tomato sauce and a can of tomato paste. And holy moly, it's the best tomato soup I've EVER HAD! No lie. So easy, so yummy, and cheap!

To be exact, here's what I used.

4 cups of frozen homemade chicken stock

15 oz can tomato sauce

6 oz can tomato paste

My chicken stock is stored in the freezer, so I put the frozen quart in the stock pot over night heat. As it began to thaw, melt, and warm up, I opened the cans of tomato sauce and tomato paste. I poured in the sauce and scooped in the paste, then slowly stirred it all around as the big block of frozen stock slowly melted and swirled lovingly with the tomato mixture.

By the time the stock was melted, everything was nicely heated, and I thought the flavoring so were perfect that I didn't add any salt or pepper. I added shredded Parmesan cheese to my bowl, and that little extra "something" was absolutely perfect!

Boo wanted a taste, and ended up having 2 bowls... AFTER eating a PB&J! He said he wants to eat this soup tomorrow for his breakfast, lunch, AND dinner. Wow. I'm not the only one who thinks this is one of the best things I've ever made. And it was so EASY! I feel silly posting such a simple dish, but since it's so good, so fast and easy, I wanted to be sure to share.

This is all that's left after just Boo and I having lunch.

All that remains from his second bowlful.

Stay hungry. 

Play with your food.

Thanksgiving 2008

This is an email I wrote to my Aunt in 2008, when she asked how my first big family Thanksgiving went...  I was cooking everything, but we were having the feast at my Mother In Laws house because it was larger than our town house. I also had a very specific plan in place with prep times, and cooking plans, what could be made ahead and stored, etc. I was still on maternity leave from having our firstborn. I want to share this so that as you're dealing with YOUR family this holiday season, you can see that we all have ... moments... I still have "The Plan" written down somewhere too, so that may have to make an appearance later this week too.

Here's the email:

How was my Thanksgiving? It was great...all things considered...

Because God didn't think I had enough to deal with ... this was the run-down of my holiday.  She, God, decided to throw in a few snags just to keep me on my toes.

 

1) First period after giving birth.  I've been bleeding like Niagara Falls since last Sunday, complete with cramps. 

2) Washing my hands every 15 minutes (at least) made them raw and extremely painful.  Every time I needed to tend to Conner meant washing off the food stuff I was prepping.  Then when I went back to food, it was another hand wash.  Every time I touched the turkey it was another hand-wash.  Every time I went to the bathroom, it was another hand wash.  Every diaper change was another hand wash.

3) On Wednesday, I managed to get the last of everything prepped for Thanksgiving, Conner bathed and dressed in a nice outfit for him to meet his Grandpa for the first time, me bathed, hair and makeup done, and in clothes that didn't make me look 200 pounds, so we could make a mad dash over to Sandra's as soon as Patrick came home so we could all mingle and visit with the out-of town McClellands that were to arrive any minute.  Note: Sandra had been up since 3:30 cleaning the house, getting things set up over there, and the soup and dessert made for supper for Wednesday.

4) Patrick calls and has GREAT NEWS!  He's coming home at 3:00 instead of 5:00!  (Hallelujah!  We'll take a bunch of things over early to ease the early morning stress of getting everything over to Sandra's Thursday morning)

5) Patrick gets home, walks Stella, and Beverly calls to say that they are still 3 hours away, and are going straight to the hotel and will not be coming by Sandra's Wednesday after-all. 

6) I call Sandra, who is just that second coming through the door from getting her hair cut, and I proceed to tell her and Patrick, who has just come in OUR front door from walking Stella, that his father and the out-of-towners aren't going to be coming over tonight after all, and they will see us all in the morning.

7) Patrick and I load up the car with as many finished dishes as I had at that point, and the raw materials to make the final Thanksgiving dishes at Sandra's.  We gather Conner and his baby things and go over to eat the soup and dessert that Sandra had made for the group of 7 that she thought she was cooking for all day Wednesday.

8) Oh ... earlier in the day I found out that Caroline and Daddy were planning on going to the ER to have her leg looked at. 

 

So we move to the Thursday events...

9) Thursday morning, we wake up early, get showers, get the bird drained of the brine, get the last few things in the car, get Conner up, dressed in his Thanksgiving outfit that Sandra bought him, pile in the car and head over to Sandra's to have out big family Thanksgiving.

10) And my face breaks out like I'm a 14 year old.

11) Sandra has the oven pre-heated to 425.  She's sure that the oven doesn't heat to the right temp, so to be on the safe side, we opt to go higher in temp and watch the bird to be sure things are OK.

12) I prep the bird with all the herbs and onions, wine, and butter, cover it with foil and put it in the oven at 9:04am!  I'm only 4 minutes off "The Plan"!  The parade is on, Conner is up, the bird is in, and things are moving along excellently!

13) Sandra decides that we really need to set the timer on the oven.  But she rarely uses the oven, so has forgotten how to do this.  I tell her over and over that it's OK to NOT turn on the timer, but she keeps poking buttons until she gets the timer on. Yay!

14) Until I go over at 10:00 to baste for the first time, and realize that the oven was turned OFF during the whole timer fiasco and I've got a cold bird in a cold oven.

15) Patrick starts to prep the fryer and notices we don't have half the oil we need, so he heads off to the store to get more.  While at the store, there is a MAD DASH of all the other husbands in the county who have also realized they don't have enough oil, and luckily there is a HUGE man standing in front of the last 10 bottles of peanut oil who is a cop and a friend of Patricks.  He grabs 5 oils and throws the remaining 5 to Patrick. 

16) He gets home ... and it's not enough oil, so he goes out AGAIN, to another store, to buy more oil.  This time, he made note of how much he was short so he was sure to buy what was needed.

17) During this time ... Daddy showes up without Caroline, who is in the hospital.  As Patrick is leaving for the second trip out to get more oil, he says Hi to Daddy who came in while he was out the first time.

18) Howard and group were supposed to be at the house at 9:00am.  It's getting closer and closer to 11:00 and no Howard and family, and no word from them.  Sandra and Patrick are getting antsy, understandably. 

19) While trying to figure out how much oil we need for the fried bird, Patrick uses the hose attachment on the sink faucet to fill the fryer with water.  This attachment is never used, because it's broken, so when we used it, we broke it past the point of quick repair.  When the kitchen sink is turned on, water now shoots across the kitchen out of the hand held hose.  We notice this right as Patrick pokes his head back in the back door (where he's heating the oil for the fryer) to tell us that his dad and family have just pulled up to the front door. 

20) I ask Daddy to come fix the sink while Sandra and I do our hostessing duties of welcoming the family. 

21) I told Patrick not to bother heating the oil now because the roaster is an hour behind schedule.

 

 Let's back up and re-set the picture...

 

My husband has stationed himself outside with a 6 gallon pot of scalding oil over an open flame, so HE can't go anywhere until the flame is turned off and he feels safe leaving the hot oil.

My mother-in-law is soaking wet and ass-end-up under the kitchen sink trying to get things cleared away from the plumbing under the sink so Daddy can get to the parts under the sink.

I've got a bird in the oven that should be an hour into cooking, but it's just now becoming luke warm.

I'm using the rug in the kitchen to clean up the water that's been shot across the kitchen, while holding Conner and trying to smile and be welcoming as I present Howard with his Grandson for the first time.

At this point ... we can resume the count...

 

22) We can't find the duct tape to fix the sink.  Sandra shows Daddy the tool selection in the garage, then gets on the computer to see what stores are open on Thanksgiving.  Target is, so her and Daddy jump in the car to go get supplies to fix the sink.

23) ... Um ... Yeah.  So ... this is when I start to drink!  Howard and Beverly I've met and like a lot.  Cristy (Howard's only sister) I have emailed, but this was our first meeting, and her daughter, Alicia,  who sustained lifelong developmental setbacks as a young girl due to complications to cancer, whom I have never met.  So here I am.  In the house alone with the extended family, using the water from the bathroom sink to fill the pot with the potatoes and the pan with the greenbeans because I can't use the kitchen sink.

24) Daddy and Sandra come home after having to go to a second location because as they pulled up in front of Target, the lights all go off, and everyone exits the building.  The closed at 11:00am.  BUT ... they come back with fiber tape, Daddy fixes the sink, and everything resumes.  I now move onto the red wine because I've finished the white that I was using to cook the bird.

25) I figure it's time to start on other cooking, so I start the annual search for the pots and pans, whisks, spoons, etc for cooking.  None of these things Sandra has because she doesn't cook any longer.  So ... I end up making half portions of what I thought I needed to make because I'm limited to a few sauce pans etc. 

 

At this point ... everything ends up falling into place even better than my plan had dictated.  I checked on the bird at 11:00 and it was already getting nice and hot inside, so at the 11:30 check, I took the foil off and told Patrick to fire back up the oil and get to frying!  We cooked the rest of the goodies, and ...

 

drum roll please...

 

ALL MY TIMING CAME OUT EXACTLY RIGHT!!!!

 

And I swear to you ... you could DRINK my gravy.  It was so damn good, make you wanna slap your Mama!

 

We all sat down for supper at 1:15pm, gave a quick blessing, Daddy gave a toast, and we all chowed down.  Sandra's friend Jo-Ann had come in around 12:30, and she held Conner for a little while so I could eat, and things turned out GREAT!  Daddy wanted to leave around 3:00 to get home before dark and to see Caroline, and he had a piece of pie at about 3:05 and was out the door by 3:15.  

 

Howard and group were soon to follow.  Cristy and Beverly had come down with colds and were feeling bad, so by 4:00 they were out of the house too. 

 

Patrick and I packed up our essentials, our son and his essentials, and told Sandra we'd be back in the morning for all the rest of the crap.  Patrick needed to come back to help get her Christmas stuff out of the storage over the garage, so we planned on bringing the truck so that he could take the ladder to her place to help.

 

We were home by 6:30.  He walked Stella, I poured another glass of wine and when he came back from walking Stella, I asked if I could have the next 12 hours off.  He agreed, and I walked upstairs at 7:30 and burst into tears in the bedroom.  But I was too tired to really cry, so it was just a quick burst, then a simi laugh, then I tried to read a few pages of Harry Potter, but I was asleep by 7:45.

Blueish

Y'all, I'm feeling blue, and I'm not 100% sure why. I know it's a cycle though. I stay home all day because I don't want to go anywhere. I don't go anywhere, so I stay home all day. Now that the weather is cold, I don't dig in the dirt. We're saving for Christmas, so there isn't any spare money lying around for retail therapy, beautification therapy, gardening therapy, etc. I spend 98% of my waking time with 2 people who have the combined age of 8. 

Granted, when I was working, the mental age of the entire office was 8 as well, but the people around me at that time were "adults", so their 8-ness was WAY WAY worse than this. No, I'm NOT complaining, I wouldn't trade my life and this time with my kids for anything. 

For instance, today I was looking at a catalog that had shiny, sparkly jewels all through it. They were so pretty. But not a single one was prettier, classier, or more remarkable than the sparkly eyes that look at me and call me Mommy.

If my life were totaly different... If I lived in NY, a high powered executive of an entertainment conglomerate, if I had no Honey, no babies, no puppies, no kitties...would I be happier? Hell NO! If I were traveling the world as a millionaire heiress, with a staff to pamper me and be at my bekon call, would I feel whole, or complete? Nope. If I were a celebrity chef, or the woman that Martha Stewart thought was The Shit, would those things make a difference? No.

No. What matters is what's inside. What I am, what my income is, what I drive, wear, and have are not who "I AM". 

So... Who am I? Yeah, I'm a a mom, a wife, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a niece, a neighbor, and a friend. I'm a cook, a wine lover, a crafter, a writer, a gardener, a recycler, a decorater. I wear glasses, I'm rarely happy with my hair style, I'm overweight, I'm stubborn, I fear change, but get stifled and bogged down with stagnintation. I have a loving husband, two amazing children, two incredible dogs, one spectacular cat, three above average fish, a house that's cluttered, at least one load of clothes in either the washer or drier or both, dirty dishes in the sink, and even a few dirty pans still on the stove from dinner last night.

I'm bored. 

Clearly there is enough to do to keep me busy, but I'm just bored. But, I think more than that, my self esteem is shot to Hell. I'm unhappy with my appearance, so I don't like going out. I don't like my old friends to see me, and I don't feel worthy of making new friends. 

So where is my damn willpower to change this? I had it once. In my late 20's I lost over 50 pounds and created a whole new ME. I know I can do it because I've already DONE it. I do the food shopping. I do the cooking. I'm as "in control" of all dietary and physical actions in this house as anyone can be, and yet I'm still the leader in sloth. 

Every night I go to bed swearing that the next day will be different. I make big plans to go to the gym, eat right, wake up early so I can get the kids going and I'm not a slave to their schedules and their moods. I set my alarm so I can get up early to set the day. But, the morning comes, and I just don't want to get up super early. I want to sleep until a beautiful face is standing next to my pillow saying, "Goodmorning, Mommy." And then our same routine starts over again. I come downstairs with whomever woke up first. I make a cup of coffee while I pour them a bowl of cereal, then I sit down to check email, Facebook, and play a few games on my iPad. The other wakes up, and I pour them cereal and make my second cup of coffee. I use to watch The Today Show in the mornings, but the news is too scary for them, and I want them to stay sweet and innocent KIDS as long as possible. 

I turn on PBS Kids while they have breakfast, then I find specific programming geared towards the lessons of the day. We talk about what the shows are teaching us, we work on craft projects, or we go out back and gather items from the back yard to make nature collages. I'll search Pinterest for science or art projects, but then the next thing I know it's lunch time. Where has the morning gone? And this is where it all goes downhill. I'll either turn off the TV and send the kids outside to play, which ALWAYS involves a massive fit from one or both. I then tell them they can either go outside to play, or they can go clean their rooms. Most of the time they head upstairs first. 

But when they do decide they want to go outside, they want me to come too. But I'm so out of shape, I don't like going out to play with them. I get winded and tired. Then I get upset, frustrated, and depressed. I want to come back in and hide. I want to show them how so swing on the monkey bars, but the whole swing set shifts and sways when I'm on it, and I'm afraid I'll break it. I want to play and run and chase them, and laugh and giggle, but they wear me out, and it embarrassing!

A friend of mine wrote a very funny story in which he referred to the three versions of himself. The past self, the present self, and the future self. I think this is my new mantra. You see, in doing this, one never has to take accountability for his actions, because it's always some other version of himself who's to blame or who has to "pay" for it. In my case, Past Carter was very seditary and ate a lot of the wrong foods. Past Carter really enjoyed this lifestyle because it was comfy, and we didn't need to worry about it because Future Carter would be able to fix it. Well, Present Carter has been told there won't be a Future Carter unless significant changes are made. 

Also, Past Carter was pregnant and at the mercy of her unborn gremlins. One of which required Past Carter to be on bed rest for 7 weeks. One of the unborn minions wanted nothing but french toast for about three weeks. These demands from a parasitic being do overwhelm and take over, but again, Past Carter fully believed that Future Carter would take care of everything.

So Present Carter needs to tell Past Carter that it's ok she made poor choices. And Present Carter needs to ensure that Future Carter can spend time with Future Honey, Future Boo, and Future GG.

Present Carter is going to get some bread ends, put sweatshirts on her and the kids, and walk to the duck pond to feed the ducks. Present Carter is in charge. Let's do this.

Email theft

My dad and aunt and I talk about food ... A LOT. We pass recipes and ideas back and forth all the time. My aunt is great at following recipes, my dad is constantly making chili and thinking that each batch is the best yet, and I open jars until I smell something that speaks to me. I'm an emotional cook and emotional eater. I cook to eat, so the two kinda go hand-in-hand. 

That being said, today's blog post is almost a direct steal from what I wrote to them this morning. I may tweak a word or two here and there to make it more PC... Or not. We'll see how I feel as I re-read it...

To set the scene... Daddy wrote to me this morning about yesterday's stew recipe on the blog. He mentioned that he hadn't thought of using the balsamic to deglaze... Here's where the email that I wrote back to him starts...

I mixed the vinegar into a large drinking cup of water. I don't recommend putting the vinegar straight into the hot pan. You'll get gassed with the fumes.

I also made a pan of gluten free cornbread. Have I told you that I've discovered sweet corn bread? It's at least 1,000 times better than the dry crap we had when I was grow. The dry crap is ideal for stuffing/dressing, but for stuffing ones face, sweet is the way to go. Conner couldn't get enough. Can you believe I BAKED?? AND "followed" a recipe? Followed, meaning I kinda paid attention to the quantity and variety of the ingredients, and oven temp. I added honey for the sweetness, and I cooked it in a hot buttered cast iron, because the morons who wrote the recipe said to use a square baking pan. What a Jack-Ass!

I also made a roux to thicken the stew. It didn't thicken it enough to matter, so I really only added calories for no reason. Anyway, I've discovered that "browned butter" roux makes a KILLER gravy. We had oven roasted chicken the other night. Again with onions and baby carrots. It was ORIGINALLY a very healthy meal, with the chicken and roasted veggies. But then my beautiful blue-eyed 5 year-old asked if we could have "grabey". Sure. Why not. I'll make him some "grabey". He's kinda scrawny, he can use a little extra. Then my handsome blue-eyed (almost) 42 year-old excitedly asked for rice too. Well, shit. I can ignore gravy, but rice AND gravy? I'm not that strong.

So, in a sauce pan, I melted 2 tablespoons of butter, and watched the milk solids toast to a golden brown. (There are few things in this world as wonderful as browned butter.) I then added 2 tablespoons of a gluten free flour blend and made the roux. I let that cook a little bit to slightly darken as well, then I poured in all the pan drippings from the chicken. Remember, it was cooked with the onions and carrots, and I poured about a glass worth of Chardonnay in the pan pre-cooking, too, so this was dreamy good pan juices. (The pan was your basic 9x11x2 glass Pyrex.)

Holy effing awesome! I only made 1 cup of rice, because I knew if there was more, we'd EAT more. It was as close to Mama's fried chicken gravy as I've had in YEARS! 

So there you have a quick glimpse into the world of Saucy and her kin-folk. The family that foods together stays together. As always, stay hungry and remember to play with your food.

Me and my Daddy when I was about 4. Picture taken by my Aunt.

Beef Stew

We're having beef stew tonight, but I don't use flour or potatoes in mine. Instead, it's just a very lean beef cut into cubes, 2 large white onions cut into 8ths, an entire head of garlic, and a bunch of baby carrots. Salt, pepper, thyme, butter, balsamic vinegar, bay leaves, and water are the detail ingredients.

Here's what I did...

I melted 2 tablespoons of butter in my Dutch oven. I salted and peppered all of the meat, then I browned the cubes in small batches. It took 3 loads to get them all browned. This is a step that is important for both taste and texture. If you pile all the meat into the pot at once, you'll steam the meat instead of brown it. If you don't brown it, you miss out on that deep wonderful flavor and the texture of the beef chunks gets tough and leather-like. 

While the beef was browning, I peeled and cut my onions. While another batch of meat was browning, I sectioned and peeled my head of garlic. 

I had a large glass bowl next to the stove that I used to hold the browned meat while I browned the next batch. Once all the meat was browned, I placed the last batch into the glass bowl and turned the heat up a little. I mixed hot tap water with some balsamic vinegar. Acid works best for deglazing, which is why alcohol is usually used; be it wine, beer, or sherry. Since I didn't have any cheap red, and didn't want to use the good stuff in the stew, I opted for the balsamic. I stirred it around and scraped up all the tasty bits on the bottom of the pot. 

Then, to the delicious deglazed liquid, I added the beef and the collected juices back into the pot. I then added my onion chunks, the peeled garlic cloves, and the baby carrots.

Then, using the bowl that I used for the browned beef (so I could get every last drip do those juices), I added hot tap water to the top of the ingredients. I added 2 dried bay leaves and a bunch of dried thyme.

I brought it to a boil, covered it, and put it on the back burner to simmer until supper.

Tonight I'll make a batch of whipped cauliflower to go along with it. Depending on the texture, I may add a little corn starch to thicken it. I may also make some cornbread too, but we'll see...

Stay hungry, my sweets, and always remember to play with your food.

Taking Stock In Our (supper's) Future

Today is stock day, here at the Saucy house. It's as close to pure kitchen therapy as I think I can get. As I'm writing this, I'm thinking of another thing I cook that has the same overall wonderful feeling as making chicken stock, and I can't think of one. Granted, it's hard to think of other things with the smell of homemade chicken stock wafting through the house on a cold, overcast, fall day.

It's so therapeutic to me because I'm using parts of the bird that would normally be tossed out. I'm using other kitchen scraps that again would be tossed out. But by planning ahead, knowing what will come of it, and embracing the overall symphonic pleasure of recycling, improving, and enriching foods-to-come is what brings me such peace and joy. Knowing that I have chicken stock in the freezer makes me feel like no matter what else is going on, I can make a warm, comforting, flavorful homemade meal out of just about anything.

Here's what I do. We love roasted chicken. We hate waiting for the whole thing to cook in her natural shape, so I do what's called "spatchcock", which means I remove the backbone, split the breast bone, remove the chest bone, and spread the bird flat. She cooks quicker and more evenly. And I can get tasty things like salt, pepper, olive oil, thyme, rosemary, sage, and garlic on all of her parts. 

I have a large plastic bowl with a sealable lid that I put the backbone, chest bone, and contents of the yucky bag of innards that comes inside. I don't like owful, but as an additive to my stock, it's great. Plus, they put the neck in that packet too, and that's just chicken stock gold.

So, in this container in the freezer, I have what's listed above, but I also have the bones from the bird I roasted, and parts do the skin uneaten too. The pan drippings, and anything left on the cutting board. Just pure chicken essence. And it's all from "scraps" that most of us throw away. To me, though, that is sacrilege. 

I buy celery in the bunch because it's cheaper than the hearts only, and I chop the tops off and put them in the freezer bowl too. When we have eaten all the nice long stalks, I put the little pieces from the inside into the freezer bowl too. 

I also buy onions in bulk, and they usually have a lot more of the papery coating than the individual ones do, so I put my huge stock pot under my onion basket and catch all those onion papers, and I'll take a few minutes to coax a few more off of the larger ones. 

Today's pot contains a lot of onion paper, the tops and heart of a celery stalk, and about 4(?) birds worth of roasted bones, skin, and uneaten parts. I then poured in water to the top of my stock pot, and let it simmer. I'll let it simmer for most of the day. I don't really time it. It's about smell, and look to me. But once it's done, I'll let it cool, then strain it, then pour the stock into containers to freeze. 

My LORD, I love stock day! Stay hungry, and remember to play with your food.

NOvember.

No. That's not a typo in the title. I'm doing a diet challenge with my Beach Body Coach during the month of November, and along with the basic rules of the challenge, I'm going to also challenge myself to consume NO dairy, NO grains, and NO alcohol this month as well. We're starting on Monday the 4th, so it will be almost 4 weeks. I will, however, consider Thanksgiving a day off. The once a year day to celebrate FOOD will be celebrated in all it's glory.

The rules to the November Challenge are simple. Drink a "Shakeology" shake once a day, communicate with the group via Facebook, and exercise. I'm hoping that with the elimination of dairy, grains, and alcohol, I can drop 20 pounds this month.

I'll be having my shake either for breakfast, or for brunch daily. Lunch will be lettuce wraps, or leftovers from supper the night before. Suppers are almost always grilled or roasted lean meat and a green veggie. We also love cauliflower around here. Perhaps I'll experiment with a whipped cauliflower "crust" on a casserole of some sort. Chicken, onions, spinach, garlic, and the cauli-crust. May have to work on this. Sounds doable for sure. 

I have a few Paleo cook books, so I'll check out some of the ideas and meals they have listed to get more ideas. I'm not a fan of making something familiar out of new ingredients. I don't think gluten free bread is an equal substitute to wheat flour based breads. I do, however, love gluten free bread as a completely different food. When I eat whipped cauliflower, I don't say to myself, "It tastes JUST like mashed potatoes!" because it doesn't taste anything like potatoes. It not the same texture, and the taste isn't similar. But, I do love myself some whipped cauliflower, yes I do. And I love mashed potatoes, but I don't think they are the same, and I don't feel they are exchangeable. That's an insult to the two dishes as individuals. And you're not mashing the cauliflower, so it annoys me when people call it mashed cauliflower. You're whirring the shit out of it in the food processor or blender, not delicately mashing or even "whipping" with your hand blender. 

I'm not a low-carb newbie. I lost over 70 pounds in my late 20's doing the low-carb thing. My beautiful unborn son would only allow me to eat French toast for a few weeks, and when you're pregnant and your baby demands a specific food, you listen. Both pregnancies were close together, and my second was difficult and included bed rest for 7 weeks. Almost 2 months in bed does quite a number on your physical structure. But, GG is 3.5 now, and the magical skinny-fairy has not shown up and granted my wish of being thin, strong, and healthy with only the wave of her magic wand. Stupid bitch. I guess the Kardashians pay more than I do. 

Really, it's better this way. I'm way too much of a control freak. I'm sure the skinny-fairy would do something "wrong", so I should just do this myself. I don't like pissing off the fairy's, after all. Never a good idea.

So, wish me luck, stay hungry, and play with your food.