Thirty Things About My Mother

1)    She was so glamorous.  No wonder she earned such big tips in the years she worked as a bartender.

2)    (She looks really good in red.)

3)   She has two Masters degrees.  She earned the first in India, but American universities wouldn’t, at that time, honor foreign graduate degrees.  So when she came here she got another one.  Oh, and a few years ago, for her job, she took more graduate-level classes–for credit.  No biggie.


4)    She doesn’t want me to send her flowers, contrary to what all of the Mothers’ Day ads and grocery store displays suggest.  An obsessive gardener, my mom has no patience for store bought, greenhouse-grown blooms.  She’s much more concerned about the flowers in the ground in her front and back yards.  When I was a kid, it was my job to go outside at dusk and coax her to come inside after having spent an entire Saturday digging, weeding, transplanting, watering, and mulching.

5)     She never once told me “I’ll tell you when you’re older” or “You’re too young to understand.”  Whenever I asked a question—no matter what its nature, or how busy she was—she would find away to answer me.

6)    She has this weird thing for Cool Whip.  My dad used to make special fun of her, teasing her for eating “foam.”  Since my mom is on the same discount grocery card account as me and Jill, we will occasionally get a targeted coupon for the stuff; I send it to mom in the mail to support her little habit.

7)    She married my dad after meeting him just twice.  In their wedding pictures, my mom looks guarded and my dad looks scared.  They both look crazy-young (twenty & twenty-five, respectively) and so beautiful.

8)    She left little love notes in my lunchbox for years, which I occasionally got made of for but inwardly cherished.  Would that I had saved a few for posterity.


9)    She has simply atrocious handwriting.  This made it quite convenient to learn how to forge her signature.

10)    She loves: pistachio ice cream, peanut butter, the aforementioned Cool Whip, tuberoses, the “f” word, Mexican food, foreign films, anything pickled, sour candy, well-written books in which very little happens, and Jon Stewart.

11)    She hates: goat cheese, Christmas card newsletters, the smell of scrambled eggs, fake politeness, Newt Gingrich, last-minute plans, people who do not vote, being called a “widow.”

12)    She has mad baby skills.  I have never, ever, ever seen a baby who wouldn’t go to her, smile at her, be soothed by her, play with her, etc.  The tiny ones can sense her thirty-plus years of experience in early childhood education, I think; at the very least, they know they are safe with her.

13)    She curses like a sailor.  Seriously, the woman has a fouler mouth than I do.  I think it’s hilarious, but I like to pretend to be scandalized by it.


14)    She loves classic American rock.  When my parents first came here, the only entertainment they could afford was a radio, so she fell in love with the music of the 60s and 70s, and passed that love on to me.  She’s the reason that Jill calls me the “jukebox,” because I can sing along to even the most obscure song on the oldies station.


15)    She was a tiger mom before it was fashionable—not the scary, chain-you-to-the-piano kind, but the strict, you-will-take-responsibility-or-else kind of mom.  She did not let me do everything I wanted to do.  She did not reward me for good grades, because good grades were expected.  She did not try to be my friend.  She tried, and succeeded, in being a relentlessly consistent parent whom I respect, feared a little, and still do my best to honor.

16)    She is deadly funny.  It’s when she isn’t even trying, of course, that she’ll deadpan or make some kind of sarcastic remark in passing and I snort with laughter.

17)    She’s not afraid to tell it like it is.  I learned, at some point, that this means one should be careful when asking for her opinion—“Does this outfit look okay?” for example.  Veena isn’t one to tell you what you want to hear.  I love that about her.

18)    She is naturally generous.  From her, I learned that you always send people home with leftovers, you make a double batch of an easily freezable food and drop it off at the house of a friend, just because.  You send birthday and condolence and congratulations cards in the mail.  At the holidays, you give gift cards to the men who mow the lawn, leave trays of cookies for the people who pick up your trash.  You always have time to make a pot of tea for a visiting friend.

19)    She can make anything taste good, and distinctively hers.  I’ve never eaten anything she’s made that wasn’t absolutely delicious.  She doesn’t use any recipes, and she taught herself to cook.

20)    She cares not a whit for professional sports, but she often sat with my dad in the den, crocheting while he cheered his teams on.

21)    She spoiled my dad.  His favorite foods were almost all incredibly high maintenance—complicated pickles, fried snacks, meticulously brewed tea—and she indulged him in all of it.  I miss him, of course, but almost miss them together more.

22)    She is loved by all of my friends.  I can’t tell you how often I’ve heard “Your mom is so awesome” after someone meets her for the first time.

23)    She is organized to a fault.  The woman writes more lists, files more files, color-codes more folders and types up more plans than anyone I know.

24)     She is brave.  To have me, she faced miscarriages and the heartache of infertility.  When my dad lost his job in high school, she managed to carry our family without losing her mind and while doing her utmost to preserve our quality of life.  Since we lost my dad, she has shown more courage and strength than I knew she had—and I knew she had a lot.  I am amazed by and so proud of her.

25)    She was, she tells me, giggly and chatty as a kid.  I find this very difficult to believe.

26)    She’s like an elephant, with reels and snarls of various personal and intellectual trivia: the scientific names of various animals, the names of almost any flowering plant you can point to, various prayers and invocations of half-a-dozen religious traditions, political trivia, pieces of Indian folk wisdom, details about a family vacation we took a fifteen years ago.

27)    She has a crazy-accurate sixth sense.  If she doesn’t get a good feeling about someone she meets, that bad feeling always proves to be well-founded (I learned this the hard way as a teenager).

28)    She made me listen to “Sound Money” on NPR as a kid, because she wanted me to be financially literate.  She signed me up for ice skating lessons, because they were on Saturday morning and that way, I’d never ask to watch Saturday morning cartoons.

29)    She speaks four languages (Hindi, Punjabi, English, & Urdu).

30)    She is going to be the absolute best grandmother in the whole wide world.  I cannot wait to watch that happen.

Happy Mother’s Day, Amma.  I made you a cheesecake.

CHEESECAKE WITH MINTED BLACKBERRIES
barely adapted from Dan Barber, as published in Gourmet

The cheesecake pictured here was made in my sweet little 6-inch spring form pan; I made the same amount of crust called for in the original recipe, but cut the recipe for filling: 2 packages cream cheese, ½ cup sugar, 2 eggs, ¼ cup half-and-half with a 2 tablespoons removed, 1 ½ T flour, & ½ tsp. vanilla.

My mom prefers a very classic cheesecake recipe, which this is—creamy, not too sweet, dense.  If you like a fluffier cake or one with more tang, substitute in fresh ricotta for some of the cream cheese.

If blackberries aren’t your thing, you can serve this cheesecake with all kinds of fresh summer fruit: strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, mango, etc.

for the crust:

6 T unsalted butter, softened
½ cup packed light brown sugar
¾ cup all-purpose or spelt flour
½ cup sliced almonds, finely chopped

oven: 350ºF with a rack placed in the middle

Line a 9-inch square baking pan with two sheets foil, leaving generous overhang on all sides.  Lightly butter the foil.  Alternately, if using a spring form pan, butter the bottom and sides.

Beat the butter and brown sugar at medium speed, until light at fluffy.  Reduce speed and add the flour and almonds, mixing until combined and the dough clumps together.

Press the crust onto the bottom of baking ban (if using a spring form pan, press up along the edges as well).

Bake until the crust darkens a shade and begins to shrink, 20-30 minutes.  Cool crust completely in the pan on a wire rack.

for the filling:

3 (8 oz.) packages cream cheese, softened
2/3 cup granulated sugar
3 eggs
¼ cup half and half
2 T all-purpose flour
1 tsp. vanilla extract (almond extract is also nice)

oven: reduce to 325ºF.

Beat together the cream cheese, sugar, and flour at medium speed until smooth.  Reduce the speed to low and add half and half, then the eggs one at a time, then finally the vanilla.

Pour the filling into the cooled crust, then place in a water bath and bake until nearly set (a tiny bit of wobble in the center is okay).  This will take between 40-45 minutes.  Cool the cheesecake on room temperature for several hours, then chill, uncovered, in the refrigerator for at least two hours.

If you used the square pan, lift the cheesecake out using the foil overhang, then cut into squares.  If you used a spring form pan, run a knife along the edge of the cheesecake before removing the spring form side and slicing.

The cheesecake will keep in the fridge, loosely covered after being fully cooled, for three days.

for the minted blackberries:

2 cups fresh blackberries, rinsed
1 T sugar
1 T mint, finely chopped
finely grated zest of 1 lemon

Combine all ingredients and leave at room temp for 30 minutes.  When ready to serve, drain blackberries with a slotted spoon and place atop cheesecake.  You can also prepare the blackberries ahead of time and keep in an airtight container in the fridge for a few hours.

I’m not sure where to start this story. You might tell me I should start at the beginning, but there are a couple of different starts, on a couple of threads, that meet up far down the line…..

One of those threads starts many years ago with an article in a major NYC perdiodical (Times ?, Post ?, Magazine ?).  The title used the expression “Homemade Rooster”.  There were a few cross posts about the article, and I saved a link for future reference, knowing that someday I’d use that recipe.

Another thread starts just over a year ago and can be summarized with the word : “yarden.”  I come from a long line of men who hate to do yardwork. When the time came for me to grow up and buy a home, I sought out a condo (no yard, no lawnmower, no edging). It seemed like a good plan. What I didn’t plan on was falling in love with a woman with a green thumb, a woman who would see my distaste for regular lawnmowing and make the following proposal : “Let’s get rid of all the grass and replace it with beds.”  Thus, the entire yard became a garden.  Yard + garden = yarden.

The transformation started in March of 2011 and by April we were enjoying fresh tomatoes, mourning the squashes that were lost to pests, and watching pink eyed peas outgrow weeds.  We had a few crops that we struggled to make use of. What do you do with four small eggplant? What do you do with two jalapeños? Well…in my case, I could wait a few days and have a couple more jalapeños…and a few corno di toros…and some serranos…enough for me to pull out that old rooster sauce recipe and give it a try.

Now, if you have spent any real amount of time in your kitchen, you’ve had an experience where something turned out to be so much easier and so much better than you expected that you wondered why you’d not made it long before. This is one of those recipes. I was blown away by how fresh and flavorful that first batch was. I started finding new pairings and uses for it. All too soon, I was out and knew the yarden would not be able to keep up with demand. Also, I would need to refine the recipe from “whatever peppers are harvested from the yard” to something reliable and reproduceable.

We all know that there are a lot of spicy sauces out there. There are times when you want Tabasco, times where your prefer Texas Pete’s and other times when anything less than Cholula won’t do. The differences between the many sauces isn’t just in their heat, it is in the other characters and favors that they bring…the vinegariness of Tabasco, the earthiness of Cholula, and the depth of Huy Fong’s sriracha (aka Rooster Sauce). In the case of the recipe that follows, there is a fresh, fruity pop. I love the rooster, but I won’t be buying any off of the shelf for a very very long time.

 HOMEMADE SRIRACHA

ingredients:

½ pound fresh chilies, coarsely chopped

-Naturally, you can use any kind of chili you want. I like Fresnos. I recommend Fresnos. Bright, fruity, spicy but not too spicy. You could go with habaneros, but that would be madness.

4 garlic cloves

-Four, eight, whatever

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup distilled white vinegar

2 tablespoons sugar

Throw everything into a saucepan, bring to a boil, return to a simmer and cook for about 20 minutes. The idea is just to get everything cooked and softened.  Remove from heat and let cool for a few minutes.

Transfer the ingredients to a blender or food processor and blend for about 5 minutes.

This mixture should yield about a pint of bright orange goodness–after two weeks in the refrigerator, there might be some separation, but it will stir back together (and you’ll have consumed it by then anyway).

Greg Lopp is a self described foodie, code poet, philosopher, and ultimate frisbee player.  He’s also the kind of guy who brings great beer to a party and stays late to help you clean up, without being asked.  I named some brownies after him once.  He and his wife Sharon, their three cats, and their yarden live here in Houston.

A lot of people remember to give something up for the 40 days of Lent. At church yesterday, our rector reminded us that the Easter season is 50 days and charged us with finding as much joy as possible in the next 50 days. In the words of Barney Stinson, “Challenge Accepted.”

Marynelle is one of my oldest friends—oldest in that we’ve been friends for half my lifetime (15 years), and she knows more about me than is really safe for me.  She’s guest blogged around here before and is generally a pretty awesome lady; one of the things I love about her the most is that she’s always pushing herself.  Which, in turn, inspires me to do the same.

I didn’t get the TV reference until I Googled it, but I accepted the challenge, too.  We agreed to text each other at least once a day with our pieces of joy.

Some days—most days, in this blessed life of mine—finding the joy is easy.  Usually, it’s obvious: Jill & I celebrating our anniversary, my students working enthusiastically on a kick-ass service project of their own design, planning a big dinner for friends I love.  But then there are those days when I find myself mired in frustration, anger, loss, sadness, or just plain grumpiness.  So I text Marynelle.

She’s helped me see that joy is not conditional.  Sometimes you have to dig around for it, and sometimes the quickest way to find it is to acknowledge what is NOT joyful in any given situation.  And let’s be clear—there are things that are decidedly not joyful.  There are things that just plain suck.  There is not “joy in everything,” no matter what the Hallmark cards tell you.

But I do think there is joy for the taking on any given day.  I am training my eye to see it, and myself to go out and make it, when necessary.  At the very least, this little project means I get a text message once a day from one of my favorite people—and that is a little piece of joy in itself.  I recommend it.

SPRING SALAD
serves 4, easily halved or doubled

I almost added strawberries to this salad, but didn’t—you could.  Instead of croutons, you could substitute nuts.  A soft goat cheese would work nicely in place of the hard-boiled eggs, if you’re not a fan.

It’s a salad.  Play around with it.  Don’t take it too seriously.  Same goes for the dressing—swap in a different vinegar, trade olive oil out for walnut or avocado.

ingredients:

2 cups mixed greens
1 bunch asparagus
2 hard-boiled eggs
¼ cup mixed herbs, chopped (don’t omit!  they really make this salad work)
-I used scallions & dill; tarragon and parsley would also be nice
generous handful croutons
-to make your own, see this post

Trim the ends from the asparagus, then cut into 2-inch long pieces.  Rinse.  Bring a pot of salted water to a boil; while the water heats up, fill another bowl with ice water.  Cook the asparagus for 1-2 minutes at a rolling boil, then drain and immediately place into ice water.  Drain from ice water, drizzle with olive oil.

To assemble the salad, toss the greens, herbs, and asparagus together.  Top with the eggs and croutons.  Drizzle with dressing (see below) or serve dressing on the side.

for the dressing:

¼ cup olive oil
2 T. orange juice
2 T. champagne vinegar
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
salt & pepper

Whisk together, taste & adjust accordingly.

A few months ago, Jill and I had a conversation with our friend Ruthie, who was at the time working on changing her eating habits after being diagnosed with gestational diabetes.  In checking her blood sugar several times a day, Ruthie had noticed something really suprising—a bowl of cereal, even the “good” kind (full of whole grain, flax, wheat germ, nuts, no corn syrup, etc.) made her blood sugar spike like crazy.  And just a couple of hours later, her blood sugar would crash.

This confirmed what I had noticed about my own breakfast routine.  I, of course, crave sweet and carbohydrate-laden things: biscuits, pancakes, waffles, toast, muffins, cereal, oatmeal, etc.  And while I was managing not to eat things that were blatantly unhealthy at breakfast, I would still get hungry just a couple of hours after I had eaten.  That’s no good when you’ve still got two classes to teach before lunch!

So I started working on doing breakfast differently—more protein, less sugar.  Eggs are obviously a great fit, adding a dose of protein to that piece of toast I so crave, often with avocado and/or hot sauce on top.  Even a quick egg scramble isn’t always feasible on some rushed mornings, so I took to making big frittatas on Saturday or Sunday, packed with greens (chard or kale), some crumbled sausage, and any herbs or other vegetables we had on hand.  Cooled and cut into wedges, these reheat quite easily in the morning, and are portable enough to eat safely on your way out the door; you can also portion out and bake the same ingredients into muffin tins, if you like.

If I’m just plain craving one of the starchy things I love so much, I try to improve on the basic idea by adding protein where I can: plain yogurt to go alongside fruit or in a smoothie, a Morningstar Farms veggie patty alongside a muffin or piece of toast, chopped nuts in my steel-cut oats, peanut or almond butter on a homemade whole-wheat waffle or bran muffin.

To expand my “alternate breakfast” repertoire beyond eggs, I turned to other cultures for inspiration.  Most food cultures besides our own have a broader range of what’s considered “breakfast food,” beyond sweet carbohydrates.  In Turkey, for example, where Jill learned to love breakfast, a typical breakfast consists of cheese, spicy sausage, hard-boiled eggs, olives, jam/honey, clotted cream, and some kind of bread.  I also love Vietnamese noodle pho for breakfast (though I haven’t tried making my own yet), and the Mexican/Tex-Mex classic chilaquiles (breakfast tacos with black beans & vegetables are also delicious.)

I turned to my own culture for ideas as well.  Poha, the flattened rice dish I blogged about previously, is in regular rotation at my house.  By accident, I discovered that I like it better when I substitute shredded Brussels sprouts for the peas—nutrition bonus!  And today I’m blogging about another Indian breakfast dish, upma, essentially a savory cream of wheat.  I love it because it serves a great base for yogurt and/or any roasted vegetables or nuts you may have on hand.

This may seem like a weird thing to eat for breakfast, and maybe it will be, for you, at first.  But I’ve found that the best, most filling and lasting breakfasts are the “weird” ones.  A bowl of lentils.  Reheated pizza or stir fry. Polenta with a fried egg on top.  Southwestern-style quinoa patties with salsa.  Once you start thinking beyond the usual, it’s freeing, and good for you, too.  Thanks to our friend Ruthie, whose adorable three-and-a-half-week-old son Benjy is pictured below, Jill & I haven’t bought a box of cereal in weeks!

UPMA RECIPE

This recipe is very basic and yields quite a plain finished product, as it’s meant to be topped with various things (see below) to add texture and additional flavor.  If you like, you can easily incorporate other vegetables (potatoes, green beans, peas, etc.) along with the onion, ginger, etc.

If you have the chance, please let me know if the comments about your favorite alterna-breakfasts.  I would love to try your suggestions.

ingredients:

1 cup cream of wheat (will be labeled “sooji” at the Indian grocery store)
half an onion, medium dice
¼ cup ginger, minced
2 T curry leaves, roughly chopped
1 tsp. mustard seeds
pinch or two of asafetida
salt
water
vegetable oil

optional: heat in the form of a fresh Serrano or jalapeno pepper, minced (seed the pepper if you’re wary of heat or just use half a pepper) OR one dried red chili pepper of your choice

traditional toppings: fried cashews (though you can dry-toast them to keep this a little healthier), cilantro, dollop of plain yogurt

other possible toppings: fried or poached egg, roasted or sautéed vegetables (radishes, cauliflower, eggplant, mushrooms), wilted greens

In a deep, heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat 2-3 tablespoons of vegetable oil on medium high.  Allow to heat up for a few minutes before tossing in a few mustard seeds as a “test.”  The seeds should immediately hiss, crack, and turn ashen; if they do not, wait a few more minutes before adding all of the seeds.  This is also the time to add the asafetida, if you plan to use it.

Turn the heat down to medium and then carefully add the onion, ginger, curry leaves, and fresh or dried pepper.  Cook the mixture until the vegetables just begin to soften—you do not want them to brown.

Add the sooji to the pan and spread it around the surface of the pan to roast, stirring regularly, for 5-7 minutes or until the sooji starts to smell nutty and turn light brown.  When it’s ready, add the water and a teaspoon of salt, stirring until the sooji has absorbed the liquid and your desired texture has been achieved; some people like their sooji more porridge consistency, others (like me) prefer it to be more firm.

Remove from heat, taste for salt, and serve.

I’m not going to lie—ridiculously adorable baby goats were a large portion of our motivation to visit the farm in the first place.  Those of us who follow Lisa Seger, self-proclaimed “boss lady” of the farm, on Twitter have been privy to a parade of baby goat pictures all spring as the mama goats have given birth; I must also confess to having purchased a Blue Heron Farm calendar for 2012 which proudly hangs from our refrigerator and brings much cuteness to our kitchen.

In person, baby goats are as cute, or—dare I say it?—even cuter than they are in photographs; they also make an almost painfully sweet bleating noise that could melt even the coldest heart.  But there was much more to our morning at the farm than just cooing over baby goats.

Blue Heron Farm is a small, family-run dairy farm; born in 2006, the farm has, in the last few years, become known in the Houston food scene for the fantastic chevre, feta, & cajeta (goat’s milk caramel) they sell at local Farmers Markets. For city kids like me, whose main exposure to farm life came through Charlotte’s Web, to walk around the very place and see the very goats that produced food you have consumed is a special thing (though it shouldn’t be so rare or unusual).

There’s a lot of talk these days about “honest food” and connecting with where food comes from, how it’s made, and what’s “natural.”  And as Lisa and her husband Christian toured us around their farm, it became clear that this is what that looks like.  Every decision they make goes through a three-part filter: Is it good for the long-term health of the animals?, Is it good for the long-term health of the land?, and Does it allow the farm to make enough money to keep farming?  Their commitment to their animals and their principles was apparent, and inspiring.

It’s all too easy to veer into self-righteous territory when talking about food these days; that, to me, defeats the point.  But as we toured, one of the things that was the most powerful for me was watching the kids in the group interact with the farm.  They tried their hand at milking Lucinda the goat, sampled cheese (and by sampled, I mean “devoured”), and greeted the whey-fed pigs who will, after living a pretty sweet life, become various pork products sold at Revival Market here in town.  The kids, and all of us in the group, saw food in process.  Someone has to make it, grow it, process it, harvest it, slaughter it, clean it, care for it, bring it to market, sell it to us—and I am appreciative of those folks who, like Lisa and Christian at Blue Heron Farm, do so in the most thoughtful and non-mysterious way they can.

No specific recipe for today, though I have two really great spring dishes coming up later in the week!  In the meantime, check out my “Recipes I Recommend” board on Pinterest, or click over to one of the fine food blogs on the BJG blogroll.

P.S. – For a good read, click over to Jill’s piece on foraging, published today in the Houston Chronicle.  Short version of the story?  You probably have weeds in your yard right now that pack more nutritional punch than spinach.  Who knew?

There you have it, my early April in a nutshell.  And as of 4:00 pm on Thursday, you can add a long-awaited spring break to that list!

I’ve got nothing particularly fancy planned for the days ahead: oil change, dentist appointment, house cleaning & organizing, cooking, reading, writing, and meeting a friend’s new baby boy.  It doesn’t seem like much until I stop and think about what we were doing this time last year.  To get up every morning and not have to think about cancer?  That’s a downright luxury, and I intend to enjoy it.

CHERRY PISTACHIO COOKIES

For those of you in need of a Passover-friendly sweet, allow me to suggest these elegant and easy-to-make-ahead amaretti cookies.  And regardless of your observance/affiliation, EVERYONE should make matzo toffee at least once.  Just know that you’re probably going to eat it all in one sitting.

These cookies were inspired by my mama, who loves loves loves pistachios.  This dough is very simple; for a classic shortbread and more crumbly texture, omit the egg.  I like to think of this dough as a kind of “secret weapon” since a log of it freezes beautifully, rolled in wax paper and then foil.  Whenever you have company or want to make a gift of some baked goods, you can slice and bake straight from the freezer.

ingredients:

1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
¾ cup unsalted butter, softened
¼ cup sugar
1 egg
½ cup shelled & unsalted pistachios, chopped
½ cup dried cherries, chopped
zest of 1 orange or lemon
¼ tsp. salt

optional: coarse sugar for finishing the cookies

In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the butter, sugar, & zest together on medium high for 2-3 minutes.  Reduce the speed and add the egg, then the flour and salt until the mixture just comes together.  Stir in the cherries and pistachios.

Divide the dough in half, rolling each section into a log about an inch in diameter.  Roll in plastic wrap, then chill at least an hour before baking, or freeze for later use.

When ready to bake, line two baking sheets with parchment and preheat your oven to 350°.  Slice your dough into pieces about ¼ inch thick, rolling the edges of each piece in a bowl of coarse sugar before placing about an inch apart on a baking sheet.

Bake for 15-20 minutes (longer if your dough has come straight from the fridge), or until the cookies are golden brown around the edges.  Transfer the parchment sheets to a cooling rack and allow to cool completely before storing in an airtight container at room temperature.

PS—These are especially delicious with a bowl of vanilla ice cream.

(The future-baby’s nickname is “Peanut.”  A food name, of course.)

There are many reasons I have not written about this before, which I’m sure you can appreciate.  The baby thing is a very intimate and emotional process for everyone, regardless of whether they conceive or adopt, are straight or gay, single or coupled, face infertility or get pregnant right away—as much fun as it is to share such exciting news, all of the unknowns make it a little bit nerve-wracking, too.

But when I sat down to write today’s blog post and tried to write about other things, it all came out like a bunch of disingenuous crap.  Because it was.  Because the truth is, I cannot think about much else these days besides the Peanut.  And how much I hate waiting for him or her.

Please note: I know that six months—our wait time so far—is not a very long time at all, not really.  I know that most adoptive couples wait two or three times that long, at least, and I know that there are many, many, many biological parents who face their own heartbreaking roads of infertility and sorrow.  I have walked with friends through a few of these experiences, and my own parents endured several miscarriages and years of grief before they had a healthy child (me).  I do not wish to compare, demean, or judge.  I can only talk about what it’s like over here for me, with the hope that my sharing about it may be of use to someone else.

I am a card-carrying control freak.  I often wish so desperately that I weren’t, but in my thrown nature, that’s who I am.  I love to plan things almost as much as I love to eat—scary but true.  I am good at getting shit done, and this makes me useful in many, many situations.  But not this one.

Everywhere I go, there are babies.  There are babies at Target, there are babies at the grocery store, there are pregnant women and new parents all over the school where I work and all up in my Twitter feed and in my group of friends.  There were ridiculously adorable babies all over Washington D.C. whom my awesome boss offered to help me steal, though I don’t think it will come to that.  But if it does, y’all will cover my bail money, right?

Deep down inside, underneath the control freak I hilariously try to control to be less controlling, there is a faithful woman who trusts and is patient.  I know that a baby will come our way, and that that baby will be our baby, and life will never be the same.  I can’t wait—but I will have to.  And I’m not sure for how long.

In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a few peanut-related recipes, from this blog and others, and my very sincere thanks for being out there, and reading.  Your presence is meaningful always, but especially today.  I needed you.  Thank you.

sweet—

salted peanut cookies with white chocolate
peanut butter-almond butter cookies
peanut butter pie
boiled peanuts
peanut butter banana bread

savory—

shrimp pad thai
Vietnamese egg rolls with peanut sauce
lime & peanut coleslaw

canine—

peanut butter dog treats

You can follow Lauren and Justin’s adventures in teaching, travel, and adapting to a brand new culture on Lauren’s blog, Life is calling.  Her pictures (especially of food!) are wonderful, as are her explanations of the sights they’ve seen and the work they are doing.  

Below, Lauren talks about what it’s like to cook in Morocco, as opposed to cooking back home, and shares a recipe for Moroccan-style white beans and homemade tortillas.  When we made the white beans, we served them with this recipe for Moroccan-style roasted vegetables.  Many thanks to Lauren for taking the time to share with us!  –NJM

Last week, my husband and I decided to make dinner for our family who hosted us when we first moved into our community in Morocco. We wanted to make an American-style meal, so we settled on fajitas and apple pie. As I undertook the process of planning and making the meal, I thought back upon how much has changed in my cooking since I came to this country. For fun, I compared the process that went into this meal to what it would have been in America:

AMERICA

Night before:
-    Research and choose recipes, make list of ingredients needed .

Morning of:
-    Go to the grocery store and buy everything I need: pre-packaged chicken breasts, vegetables, pre-made pie crust (if I’m being lazy), bag of tortillas, some packaged pre-shredded cheese.

Afternoon:
-    Cut up and saute meat and vegetables, prepare pie and set it to bake at the oven’s standard temperature, set the timer, walk away and have a glass of wine!
-    Take tortillas and cheese out of their packages when ready.

MOROCCO

Night before:

-    Research and choose recipes, make list of ingredients needed .
-    Figure out what ingredients are actually available here (no brown sugar for the apple pie!) and adjust with substitutions.
-    Make sure I know how to say or write everything that I need in Moroccan Arabic (still don’t know how to ask for nutmeg, though I don’t think I could find it here anyway!).

Morning of:
-    Go to the local market and visit each individual stall to get what I need: the onion guy, the peppers guy, the cheese guy, the spices guy, the egg guy, the oil guy (squeezed fresh from olives!), the flour guy, the butter guy… and let’s not forget the chicken guy. I choose my chicken and they slaughter and clean it for me.

Afternoon:

-    Wash and clean the chicken to remove excess feathers. Take out the innards (most of which I am still unsure of what they are exactly). Then break down the chicken and cut into small pieces to be sautéed.
-    Prepare pie crust (from scratch) and refrigerate.
-    Prepare tortillas (from scratch) and put aside.
-    Cut up and sauté meat and vegetables and grate cheese.
-    Prepare apple pie, put in oven and check it obsessively because the oven here doesn’t have regulated temperatures and I have yet to get it totally right yet. The top burns a little but easy enough to scrape off.

Total meal prep in America: 4 hours

Total meal prep in Morocco: 10 hours

As you can see, it’s quite a different experience! Each meal here is a challenge in learning how to plan, buy, and prepare foods in a totally new way. But I have already learned some valuable lessons that I will bring back with me when I return to the U.S.:

* Food tastes better fresh! None of this pre-packaged nonsense. Make the below tortilla recipe and you will never eat the packaged ones again

* Knowing where my meat comes from: You always hear in the U.S. about being separated from the source of your food but you don’t realize it until you see it the other way. While it’s tough to deal with an animal being killed in front of you for food, it makes you think much harder about what you choose to eat.

* Less meat, more beans and vegetables: In Morocco, meat is a lot more expensive than most other food items and families tend to eat a lot of beans instead. I have rediscovered my love for white beans and I will never be the same!

* New methods and tools for cooking: I am going to single-handedly bring the pressure cooker back into fashion in the U.S… why more people don’t use it, I don’t know! But every Moroccan household uses it and it is truly amazing.

In my cooking experiments here, two of my most favorite recipes have been some of the simplest. I hope you enjoy the below recipes; when you make them, think about how your experiences might be different if you were cooking somewhere unfamiliar or in a new way. And be happy you don’t have to learn how to say each ingredient in Arabic!

MOROCCAN-STYLE WHITE BEANS
Adapted from About.com
Yield: 4 to 6 servings

This recipe calls for dry beans and uses a pressure cooker (I told you I am bringing the pressure cooker back into style!). You should soak your beans in water overnight before you cook them. And if you happen to buy them from a big sack in the market like I do, you may need to spend an hour or so pulling out the twigs and rocks and thoroughly cleaning them!

ingredients:

1lb. dry white haricot or Cannellini beans, soaked overnight and drained
3 ripe tomatoes, grated or diced
1 medium onion, grated or diced
3 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
2 T chopped fresh parsley
2 T chopped fresh cilantro
1 T salt
2 tsp paprika
2 tsp cumin
2 teaspoons ground ginger
¼ cup vegetable oil
¼ cup olive oil
2 quarts water

Mix all ingredients in a pressure cooker. Cover and cook on pressure over medium heat for about 40 minutes, or until the beans are tender. (Note: “On pressure” here means that you start timing it once the top on the pressure cooker starts spinning around).  Run the cooker under cold water before opening the lid carefully.  If the beans are still submerged in sauce, cook uncovered for a bit to reduce the liquids until the sauce is thick (just keep an eye on it to make sure that the beans don’t burn). Adjust the seasoning if desired, and serve.

Editor’s note: If you don’t have a pressure cooker or don’t want to use it, I recommend using a slow-cooker instead.  You can sauté the onion & garlic in a saucepan on the stovetop first, then toss them, along with the rest of the ingredients, into the slow cooker and let them cook on “high” for several hours, or until the beans have reached the desired tenderness. You can also cook in a covered pot on the stove top for several hours, but the convenience of a slow-cooker means you can walk away while the beans cook!

HOMEMADE TORTILLAS
Adapted from Peace Corps Morocco’s “Kitchen Guide,” provided to all new volunteers
Yield: 8-10 small (6-inch) tortillas, or 4-6 large (8-10 inch) tortillas

Editor’s note: We have also, in my house, become obsessed with homemade tortillas.  I tend to make mine with lard, using this recipe, but when cooking for vegetarian/non-pork-eating friends, I plan to use Lauren’s recipe below.

ingredients:

2 cups flour
1 ½ tsp baking powder (optional)
1 tsp salt
2 tsp olive or vegetable oil
¾ cup warm water

Preparation:
Sift flour, baking powder (optional), and salt together (for larger tortillas, omit baking powder, which will keep them from stretching). Work in oil and mix well. Slowly add water and knead until dough is springy. Divide dough into 8 balls for small tortillas, or 6 balls for large tortillas, and place on a clean surface; cover and let rest for 20-30 minutes. After the dough has rested, one at a time place the dough ball on a lightly floured surface, pat it out to about a 4” circle, and then roll out from the center to create thin circles (6” across for small tortillas, 8-10” across for large tortillas). Bake on a hot un-greased griddle until speckled brown on both sides (keep a close eye on them or they can burn). If tortilla puffs while cooking, just press it down.

Let tortillas cool before storing in an airtight container or plastic bag in the refrigerator.

Lauren’s note: I made this recently with 1cup semolina flour and 1 cup regular white flour and it has a less floury, more corny taste (but not super corny). I also varied the thickness of the tortilla when I rolled it out, and I found that I liked them really thin. The more you play with it the more you’ll love them!

I make my own yogurt to use here, but you don’t have to.  If you are interested in learning how to make your own yogurt, I highly encourage you to give it a whirl.  You do NOT need a “yogurt maker,” just milk, a yogurt “starter,” and basic kitchen equipment.  After a few hit-or-miss tries, you will easily get the hang of the timing/temperature business and be thrilled to discover that your homemade yogurt is more delicious and a whole heck of a lot cheaper than the store-bought variety.

There are tons of recipes and methods out there, some way more complicated than they need to be if you ask me—then again, I learned using the “finger test” (as opposed to a thermometer) and the descendant of a yogurt culture my mom smuggled from India some twenty years ago.  This post from The Kitchn breaks down the yogurt-making process quite simply, and pretty well parallels what I do, just with more precision.  No matter what method you try, be sure to use at least 2% milk to achieve a thick texture.

I’ve been making homemade yogurt consistently the last few years—I got Jill hooked (she loves hers in a big bowl with two smushed up bananas), and eat some myself almost every day.  I also love using yogurt in baked goods and smoothies, and we use thick, strained yogurt in place of sour cream and don’t even miss the latter.

But that’s enough yogurt proselytizing for one night. I hope everyone is doing well as we come upon mid-March (when the heck did that happen?).  Sunday I leave for Washington, D.C. with 60 eighth graders and five fellow chaperones; please pray for us.  I’ve got a special guest post lined up while I’m away!

SAFFRON-CARDAMOM YOGURT

Note: “hanging” or draining the whey from the yogurt will considerably reduce its volume, so take into consideration when planning how much to serve.  I find that planning on ½ cup of yogurt (pre-drained) per person is about right.

ingredients:

2 cups whole-milk or 2% yogurt
2 T honey—feel free to bump up if you’d like your yogurt sweeter
½ to 1 tsp. ground cardamom—I like I lot, but then again, I’m brown
pinch saffron threads

assorted fruit, seeds, and/or nuts of your choice: apple, strawberry, blueberry, orange segments, banana, mango, sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, sliced almonds,  etc.

The day before you plan to serve the yogurt, line a colander with a cheesecloth and measure the yogurt into it.  Gently gather the cheesecloth around the yogurt to form a ball, tying or rubber-banding the excess cloth at the top.  If you can, hang the cheesecloth bundle from your kitchen sink faucet, letting the whey from the yogurt drain out and through the colander—you can also just let the bundle sit in the colander, lifting and applying pressure occasionally.

(I like to place a bowl underneath the colander, saving the whey for all kinds of uses!)

Allow the yogurt to drain for at least one hour, longer if you want a thicker product, as I do when making a sour cream substitute.  Turn the thickened yogurt into a plastic storage container.

In a microwave-safe bowl or small saucepan, heat the honey until it is quite runny and warm.  Sprinkle the saffron threads onto the honey, stirring well.  Let the honey mixture cool, then fold into the yogurt.  Mix in the cardamom as well, then refrigerate the yogurt overnight.

The next day, you’ll see the saffron threads “bleeding” their color and flavor into the container of yogurt.  Stir thoroughly before serving with the fruit, seeds, and/or nuts of your choice.

a)    I was a religious studies major in college (this is also how I met Jill).
b)    I was raised Hindu, but attended an Episcopal school for twelve years.
c)    I remain a practicing Hindu, and have taught at a Jewish school for the last five years.

The end result of all of this is that I find myself open to and appreciative of the religious traditions of others—I like hearing and learning about how others practice, observe, and ritualize—and I believe that, even if a tradition is not my own, it can bring value to my life.

Which is why I’m blogging about hamantaschen.

These cookies are traditionally made to celebrate the holiday of Purim which commemorates the heroism of Queen Esther, who foiled the evil Haman and saved the Jewish people in her husband’s kingdom from being killed.  Hamantaschen are always triangular, supposedly to resemble the three-cornered hat that Haman wore.  As a Jewish friend & colleague put it, “Haman is just so evil.  We must eat his hat.”

CHERRY-CRANBERRY HAMANTASCHEN
adapted from Epicurious

Fun fact: Hinduism & Judaism both operate on a modified lunar calendar, allowing holidays to stay in the same season of the year (spring, fall, etc.) while shifting exact date.  This shared calendar often results in shared holidays or neighboring celebrations, and this year the Hindu holiday of Holi, which is a bit raucous, a cause for the blurring of societal norms (in the form of throwing colored pigment at each other) and celebrates the springtime, falls on the same day as Purim, which is also a bit raucous, a cause for the blurring of societal norms (in the form of outlandish costumes), and celebrates a brave woman.  Best of all, both religions know how to celebrate with food.

My hamantaschen recipe calls for dried cherries & cranberries, but more traditional fillings are apricot, prune, and poppy seed.  And chocolate-filled hamantaschen are most popular with the kiddos!

for the dough:

2/3 cup butter or margarine
½ cup sugar
1 large egg + 1 egg yolk
½ tsp. vanilla
2 ½ – 3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
pinch salt

You can make the dough in the food processor, a stand mixer, or by hand.  Cream the butter and sugar, adding the egg & egg yolk and mixing until smooth.  Add the dry ingredients and process until a ball of dough forms (you may need to add a sprinkling of water).

Cover the dough and refrigerate for 2 hours or overnight.

for the filling:

1 cup dried cherries
½ cup dried cranberries
½ cup walnuts
1 green apple: peeled, seeded, & chopped
½ cup water
juice of 1 lemon or ½ orange, plus zest (optional)
4 T sugar

Simmer the dried fruit, water, fruit juice/zest, & sugar in a covered medium saucepan for 10-15 minutes.  Fruit should be soft but still firm, and liquid should have reduced considerably.  Move off the heat, keep covered, and let the reconstituted fruit cool a bit.

Process the dried fruit mixture, chopped apple, & walnuts in a food processor until the mixture is spreadable.

Once the dough is ready, flour a work surface and roll about a quarter of the dough out at a time, to 1/8” thickness.  Use a biscuit cutter or water glass to cut the dough into circles with an approximately 2-inch diameter.  Drop 1 tsp. of the filling into the center of each circle, then dip your finger in cool water and run it around the edges of each circle.

Gather the dough toward the center, pinching together in three corners to form a triangle.  Place the assembled cookies on a parchment-lined baking sheet, baking for 12-15 minutes or until the dough is golden brown in places.