Turkish "Pizza"

Man, was I in a bad mood last night.  We were taking down Christmas decorations and I was taking turns fighting with all three of my kids while my husband took a leisurely shower right before I needed to start dinner.  Now, this is not the best time of day in our house anyway - dinner preparations typically consist of my youngest child clinging to my leg, cry-screaming, while I try to chop, cook and plate food as fast as I possibly can.  (As a professionally trained chef, this is usually pretty fast, but it is still hard to do with a toddler making his unhappiness VERY loudly known.) Add the normal level of stress to my clutter-triggered OCD and late yesterday afternoon, our house and, more specifically, my kitchen and living room was not a very fun place to be.

Dinner last night was scheduled to be Turkish pizza (or pide, perhaps...I am not exactly sure).  The idea came from my husband randomly stumbling on a blog (http://mykitchenmoovement.squarespace.com/), when googling "squid ink" of all things.  (That one is another story.)  Anyway, this blog (complete with really amazing food photography) is apparently written by a man in Australia, who penned a series on what he cooked and fed himself and his child for a few days while his wife was away from home.  My husband thought most of it was pretty funny and found quite a few recipe ideas that he thought would be super tasty.  One of these recipes was this one for Turkish pizza: http://mykitchenmoovement.squarespace.com/recipes/2010/4/19/wife-away-day-4-pide-lahmajun.html.  I looked it over and, as is my way, took the basic idea and made it my own.

Pictured above is what I ultimately came up with.  I started by slicing a large yellow onion and sauteing it in olive oil until it began to brown nicely.  I then crumbled in a pound of ground lamb that I bought at my regular grocery store (though I have found really wonderful, locally sourced ground lamb at a nearby farmer's market as well).  I happened to have a Turkish seasoning blend (basically coriander, cumin, salt, pepper, cayenne, oregano and paprika maybe?) that I got some time ago as a sample from my favorite spice company, so I added a liberal sprinkle of that when I had all of the meat spread out in the pan.  I cooked the meat and onions together until the meat was browned and the onions were well softened (almost confitted - the rendered lamb fat worked really well to finish cooking the onion slices).  I added two cloves of garlic that I had finely chopped and cooked for about 30 more seconds.  I turned the heat off and added four Roma tomatoes that I had stemmed, seeded and chopped.  (Also, just FYI - I season as I add food, so with each additional ingredient, I add a pinch of kosher salt and usually a twist of freshly ground black pepper.  I recommend cooking this way - flavors are enhanced and create a much more evenly seasoned final dish.)

As you can see, this little mixture was served in a crust of sorts.  I meant, before my no-good, very-bad mood set in, to make a standard pizza dough; I however, ran out of time and found a very easy recipe for an yeast-free dough online, which, again, I modified based on what I had on hand.  My recipe turned out as: 2 cups of whole wheat flour, 1/4 cup of olive oil, 2/3 cup of water, 1 teaspoon of salt and 2 teaspoons of baking powder.  I mixed the dry ingredients in my standing mixer and, with the motor running, added the oil and water to form a shaggy and kind of sticky dough.  This I took out of the mixer, kneaded it a few times and split it in half to roll out two very thin, 13-inch or so oblong (read: "rustic") circles.  I placed each on a sheet of parchment paper and then on a baking sheet.

On each circle of dough, I heaped a large handful of organic baby spinach and then covered this offensive (to my younger daughter) vegetable with the lamb, onion and tomato mixture.  On one of the "pizzas", I added a seeded and thinly sliced jalapeno pepper, then I folded over the edges of each dough circle to form a kind of tart.  I placed both in a preheated 425 degree oven and baked them for about 30 minutes.  While they were baking, I made a sauce to serve with the "pizzas" - a little bit of Greek yogurt, a squeeze of lemon juice, pinches of sea salt and ground coriander, with a little bit of water to thin it out.

The Turkish pizzas came out of the oven with a lightly golden brown crust flavored with the mingling juices of the tomatoes, lamb and spinach.  The tiny pieces of lamb nearer to the top of the "pizza" were a crispy, deep mahogany color and just so very delicious.  The lamb itself was tender, the veggies were infused with a warm, exotic spice and the jalapenos added a tasty punch of heat to a very savory dish.  The yogurt sauce cooled that heat without completely overpowering it and added a tang that cut through the fat of the lamb and the flaky crust surrounding it.  Man, was it good!  It was filling without being heavy and was "pizza" in a new and unique presentation.  Also...man, did it get rid of my bad mood!  Seriously, that is what good food can do for you - it just makes you feel better, body and soul.  Anyway, this one is definitely a repeat for us - the kids all ate it and my younger daughter even choked down her spinach without *too much* complaining.  That is a win in my house!  Until next time...

Very Little to Do with Food

As the title suggests, I have a feeling that this post will have very little to do with food today.  I apologize for that and I apologize if I offend anyone because this may get a little opinionated (though I will try to keep it civil and apolitical).  This is, however, my blog and I have decided that I will write what is in my heart today, rather than trying to make myself stick to my overall theme.  You have been warned, so if you don't want to hear my thoughts and opinions, please stop reading.

I want to say how horribly my heart aches for the families of the children and adults lost on Friday in Connecticut.  Though I don't consider myself to be a particularly religious person, I have and will continue to pray for that community and especially for those whose hearts can never be fully healed from such a tremendous loss.  

I seemed to have been in a bit of a news bubble on Friday, as I belatedly found out about those tragic events minutes before I was to go pick my own two elementary-age daughters up from school.  I saw comments written on Facebook and immediately turned on the TV to see the President of the United States speaking haltingly while wiping away tears, as he described what had taken place.  I lost it and started crying.  I kept crying after I picked my kids up from school, as I relayed the information to several friends on the school's playground.  I stopped crying when we started talking about everything that happened, the conversation quickly alighting on the wonderfully friendly topics of gun control and religious expression.  My sadness seemed to quickly give way to anger and frustration and I allowed those emotions to cloud a conversation with women that I consider to be my friends, but who hold very different opinions on those subjects.  Since then, my emotions have been all over the place, and I have been thinking, wondering, hoping, trying to make some sense not only of the national tragedy, but also of my place in a society that is far more conservative than I will ever be.  I spent a lot of time thinking about how isolated I often feel here in rural/suburban Texas, especially when it comes to hot button topics, and I spent a good amount of time feeling that I was completely powerless to make any real change, both in my own community and in a much broader and more far-reaching sense.  Oddly enough, I do feel that this relates to my blog theme - my interest in the quality of my family's food and the future of our global food supply is also something that I frequently feel overwhelmed and isolated by; I often find myself questioning whether or not I am making a real difference for my family and if we, by our purchasing power alone, are making a real difference in how our foods are grown and prepared for consumption.  My heart, despite its recent roller-coaster of emotions, has ultimately been telling me for some time now that I need to find a way to make a tangible contribution to our society and my grief over the loss of life on Friday was starting to spin off in a negative and unproductive direction.

A couple of conversations and one Facebook post have started moving my thinking to a much more positive sphere.  First, a friend posted on Facebook the suggestion that we honor the memories of those lost by offering deliberate actions of love and kindness.  Though some of the previous postings (mostly along the lines of gun owners praising the second amendment) had my blood pressure rising and my fingers itching to respond to some of the more inflammatory comments, I read her sentiment and found my desire to argue somewhat quelled.  I had a phone conversation with a friend in regards to a completely unrelated topic, which would require us to approach the administration of the elementary school for help with a program we chair.  She suggested that we needed to be part of the solution rather than part of the problem and to shape our ideas and our presentation within that frame of reference.  She also suggested that we will find success with our venture even if we only touch the life of one other person.  I found both of those comments to be intriguing and immediately started framing my thoughts about that particular topic in a different way.  Finally, I had two separate discussions, one with friends and one with my mother, in which I expressed my anger and frustration at my ideological isolation.  In both discussions, in two very distinct manners, it was suggested to me that perhaps those with viewpoints opposing my own felt very much the same and that they were isolated only by their belief that anyone from the opposite side of the discussion would be willing to hear what they have to say, let alone find room for compromise.  All of these separate instances provoked me into thinking: what if my problems, my disillusionment, my frustration at my inability to contribute to something larger than myself.....what if all these begin and end with me? 

I think it will take some more time to assimilate all of my thoughts into something more concrete than just purely positive thinking, but I have to say that it is a start.  After I realized (though the realization should have come more as a "duh", rather than what feels like a greater epiphany) that I have power and control over my own thoughts and thus over my own situation, I felt a giant wash of relief.  I felt a measure of the peace that I want to share with others in honor of the children for whom I so bitterly wept.  I felt like, regardless of what I do and regardless of whether I change the world, I can act by myself in love and in the name of progress.  I can be part of the solution of compromise, rather than perpetuating the problem of discord.  I can do these things and still offer my friendship to those who disagree with me.  Their disagreement does not determine anything about me or even about our relationship, simply because I am following what I know to be my truth.  They can follow theirs and I can accept that.  I can make choices for my own family - big choices of religious practice and the more mundane choices of what I cook for dinners this week.  I am making the difference that I crave in the lives of my children and my husband and they are who need me to make that difference the most.  As my friend said, if I touch one life, my efforts will not have been wasted and I already know that I have touched four.  If I reach one person with this writing effort, I will count this too as a success.  Even if I don't, I feel better for having shared my thoughts.  To anyone who is reading this: thank you for indulging me and I think you will find a renewed commitment to food and the feeding of a family next time you read.  Until then, I think we should all take my friend's advice:  "what if we said or did kind, loving things in the name of peace for all the families in Connecticut?"  What if, indeed?

Growing our Dinner

I seem to have burned myself out of baking our own bread at this point.  I have (gasp!) been buying bread at our local grocery store ever since we returned from Disney World two weeks ago.  Granted, we have had a couple of emergent and stressful situations come up in that time, so I don't feel too bad about it, but I can definitely tell the difference between how I feel when consuming something I made myself and the products that I find on the store shelves.  (Primarily, feeling "full" and "nourished" with my from-scratch bread.)  This is not to mention the fact that the bread that I used to buy every week (cough....HEB brand 100% Whole Wheat Bread, I am looking at you....cough) is now carrying a label indicating that it is processed in a facility using nuts and tree nuts!  Blerg!  I had to switch to the more expensive, name-brand bread and even that has an ingredient list that might as well be called an ingredient paragraph.  I mentioned to a friend of mine the other day that I was feeling particularly lazy in regards to baking as of late and her response was, "yeah, you are so lazy!  You don't want to bake ALL of your family's bread for the week!"  I know how silly it sounds; I want to get back to baking everything, and now I know that I probably need to get back to it, but the shine is off and, right now at least, it seems like work.  Anyway.....

Despite not baking the past couple of weeks, I have been productive, specifically with my garden plot in our local community garden.  It is actually coming along fairly well, as opposed to the last season, when the basil that had been planted there before over-seeded and basically took over everything.  I was able to harvest some vegetables yesterday afternoon and my, were they gorgeous!  We got three bell peppers, two little crowns of broccoli, tons of rainbow and red Swiss chard, plus a little dinosaur kale and curly leaf kale.  I cooked all of the greens last night with a little olive oil, sea salt, crushed garlic cloves and crushed red pepper flakes.  They were delicious and I can't really describe how proud I was that I had grown them all myself!  Our garden still has a ways to go (namely, we need to finish planting what seems to be a huge space), but it is really something spectacular to be able to cultivate the ground and consume the "fruits" (or veggies, in this case) of your labor.  Last night, we also enjoyed some really, really late harvest tomatoes (our weather here in Texas has been pretty warm this year; I think the first real freeze is supposed to come in this evening), sliced and sprinkled with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.  They were juicy and exploded with a lovely little taste of summer on our balmy "winter" evening.  In the next few weeks, it looks like I should have more greens to work with, not to mention purple cauliflower, leeks, fennel and, hopefully soon, some beets as well.  I am definitely still more cook than gardener, but it would seem that my thumb, previously black, has begun to show signs of going green!

Disney Dining

We just got back from our Thanksgiving vacation at Walt Disney World in Florida, where we enjoyed fun at the Magic Kingdom and EPCOT (though the kids were pretty unimpressed with the giant "golf ball").  We stayed on property for the very first time, at the wonderfully whimsical Art of Animation Resort, and enjoyed the added benefit of the Disney Quick Service Dining Plan.  Since my son is under the age of 3, he was not afforded his own meal plan, and so was expected to share meals with either myself or my husband.  Because my son has severe food allergies, I did my homework and talked to the customer service reps at WDW several times to determine just how I needed to ensure that he was not ingesting something that could make him very ill.  I was assured that all I needed to do was to notify a cast member and they would verify that the food he was being served did not contain any of the potential allergens.    Easy peasy, right?  Well.....almost.

Our resort had a restaurant called "Landscape of Flavors", which offered a fairly large variety of foods for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  It was a Luby's or Furr's (anybody remember Furr's?) style service with an open kitchen behind the serving staff.  I was fairly impressed to see that they offered tandoori oven cooked foods, including freshly made naan bread, in addition to the more expected fare of pizzas, pastas and burgers.  All this food was served in fairly rapid pace to the teeming crowds that seemed to fill the space almost to capacity for every meal time.  The first time I stepped up to the serving counter to order a meal that was to be shared by my son and by my husband, I told the cast member that I had a child with food allergies.  She smiled in a strange way and pushed a button behind the counter, actually stopping the serving line for me and my request.  (I am sure the people behind me were really pleased to see this happen, but I did not dare turn and face their hungry wrath.)  After about five minutes, a "chef" cast member arrived and assured me that the meal I was ordering did not have any of the allergens I needed to avoid.  I was served the meal and moved on my way to feed a "breakfast sandwich" of naan bread, spinach paneer and curried cauliflower to my son (who enjoyed it, thank-you-very-much.  That kid ate A LOT of naan bread during our stay at WDW.)

That same day, we decided to lunch in the Magic Kingdom at a restaurant in Fantasyland.  I made my way through the line, ordered our food and then made the mistake of trying to verify that the Caprese-style flatbread I had just ordered to share with my son did not contain any of his allergens.  The cast member actually dressed me down, saying, "You should have told me this before you ordered.  I can't answer any of your questions and I would have to call a manager."  (*without actually offering to call a manager*) I was very flustered and with the beginnings of tears in my eyes, waved her rudeness away with an, "I am sure it is fine."  (I should also point out that we had gotten VERY little sleep the night before and I don't do well AT ALL when I am that tired.)  I overheard the woman, literally the next person in line after me, say, "I have a little one with food allergies", to which my nasty new friend replied, "Ok, honey.  Let me call a manager over and we will get that taken care of."  I.  Was.  Pissed.  I fumed and kvetched throughout my lunch, which I ended up eating by myself anyway, as my son completely rejected the food by throwing the offered bites on the floor.  As most of us were finishing our meals, my husband took my son outside, where he apparently ran into another cast member asking how his meal was.  He told her that she should "talk to [his] wife", which, without knowing that I was the person he referenced, she did, almost as soon as we stepped outside and I started complaining about my experience.  I told her exactly what happened and she made notes on her tablet.  I don't know if anything I said was actually recorded or will make any difference, but I will tell you that it made all the difference in my day to just feel like someone heard and responded appropriately to my complaints.  (Of course, this made for a new family joke as we all decided that the Disney Happy Police will descend upon you, should you dare to be less than mirthful whilst in the "Happiest Place on Earth".)

After that lunch, I decided to just follow their ridiculous allergy protocol, so whenever I needed to order something that I was unsure of (french fries, in particular), I said clearly, without daring to order preemptively, "I HAVE A CHILD WITH FOOD ALLERGIES!"  Most of the time, it worked out well.....it always took a looooonnnnnggggg time to get our food, but at least I was certain that they made sure nothing had been contaminated by those three big, nasty allergens (eggs, nuts, and fish).  Here's a word to the wise though, Disney (and I will be sharing this when I do my "guest survey" in a minute): just freaking print the allergens on your menus.  Make it EASY for children/parents/people with food allergies.  I was trying to be responsible and as the mother of a child with food allergies, I know what is in most foods and I know which foods could be potentially dangerous because of the ways in which they are cooked.  I know you are doing some major CYA, but for goodness sake, shift some of the responsibility back to the people ordering the food.  I promise it will make our lives easier and the lives of your cast members easier as well.

Anyway, all in all, it was a good trip.  The food wasn't spectacular, but it wasn't bad either.  My son got his fill of allergy-free naan bread, supplemented with milk, grapes, the occasional banana or random bite of meat, french fries and strawberry yogurt.  Not the world's best diet, but doable for a few days.  The rest of us are a bit burned out on tandoori food, pizzas and, as my oldest daughter said, "no more chocolate chip pancakes!"  This week is about returning to our regularly scheduled diet.  Disney was fun and I would totally do it again, but not any time soon.   

Split Pea Success!

This is a bit of an experiment today as I am attempting to write using our iPad, rather than our home computer, which has gotten to be a chore to even boot up.  So far, I am a little frustrated as I can't seem to be able to type directly on my publishing tool and have had to resort to composing in my email.  Blerg.  Technology, advancements, blah, blah, blah, right?

Anyway, I had a culinary breakthrough last night and I thought I would share.  Let me first say that, in my cooking, there are hallowed recipes, prepared by my mother all throughout my life, that I dare not attempt to make for my family.  My very favorite thing to eat in the world is my mother's chicken spaghetti, which, from an ingredient standpoint, is not a particularly complicated thing to make.  When I moved out of the house, she even wrote her recipe down for me and I have tried many, maaaannny times over the years to recreate it faithfully, only to have made an edible but decidedly disappointing bowl of pasta.  There are others: fried chicken, peppersteak, chocolate chip cookies and.....split pea soup.  

Almost every winter, for as long as I can remember, my mother has made a huge batch of split pea soup in her crockpot.  My sister and I (not my brother, oddly) lived for split pea soup days, especially since they came around so infrequently.  There was something about the creamy, salty soup that tasted so comforting, even in spite of its rather nasty olive green color and the way the smell would permeate the house for days afterward.  Even when we grew up and moved out of her house, my mother would cook the split pea soup and my sister and I would tote home little containers of mushy green love.  Despite how much I love my mom's split soup, I have only once tried to make it myself, using a crockpot recipe (not hers, I might add) that yielded an undercooked and vastly under-flavored "soup".  So, based on that experience and my chicken spaghetti disasters, I abandoned the effort.....until last night.

I don't know why I suddenly decided that it would be a good idea to make split pea soup, but, as I was writing a grocery list late last week, I wrote it down, thinking that, surely I could make a better go of it this time.  I had a bunch of leftover ham in my freezer (again, thank you, Mom) and a few carrots in the fridge that were begging to be used in a soup of some kind.  The weather had finally cooled off (which means that it is a chilly 68 degrees in Texas right now....brrrr!), so soup sounded pretty freaking awesome.  I happened to be discussing menu ideas with a friend one afternoon, as we walked the kids home from school, she mentioning that her kids detested lentil soup, which my kids love.  I said as much, adding that my plan was to make split pea soup this week and I was not sure how it would go over.  She said something to the effect that they were pretty much the same thing.  Lentil soup and split pea soup are pretty much the same thing!  This was a total revelation to me!  They are, really - slightly different ingredients, but the preparation is about the same: so, I made my split pea soup last night almost exactly as I would have made my lentil soup.  I sautéed some onions and carrots in rendered bacon fat, added the split peas, chicken stock and a little bit of water, seasoned with salt, pepper, thyme and bay leaves and simmered with copious amounts of diced, leftover ham until the peas had disintegrated.  When I was ready to serve, I added just a couple of tablespoons of red wine vinegar to brighten it up, et viola!  An amazingly delicious and richly flavored split pea and ham soup that everyone in my family LOVED!  It was so wonderful that my oldest took it for her lunch today!  Miracle of miracles!  Split pea success!

Thoughts Sprinkled with Cilantro

So, my kids seem to finally be getting into the idea of me blogging about what they eat.  I have had several requests, from sweet potato biscuits to corn-blueberry muffins, to write about things they have consumed (though why it is only baked goods that I can come up with right now, I am not sure).  I was actually planning to write something about both of those things (both really yummy, though I was not entirely happy with the muffins as they seem to be VERY dry), but something happened at lunch today that made me stop and think.

Last night, I made one of my favorite (and easy) vegetarian meals: black bean and rice burritos.  It is basically brown rice, black beans, pico de gallo, a squeeze of lime (which I, sadly, forgot last night), avocado slices and pepper jack cheese all wrapped up in a nice little package of a burrito sized tortilla.  For last night's incarnation, I added a hefty dose of minced cilantro to the rice mixture.  I usually squish/cook them on my Cuisinart Griddler (my favorite kitchen gadget, bar none), but I took the lazy/easy way out last night and popped them in a 400 degree oven until they were lightly browned on the outside and warm and melty on the inside.  They are filling, delicious, slightly spicy and make FANTASTIC leftovers.  I had a little bit of the rice mixture leftover as well, so I decided to serve it to my son for lunch this afternoon.  What I noticed was this: every time he would put a piece of a cilantro leaf into his mouth, he would chew it for just a second and then screw up his face and scream.  The screaming thing is not really abnormal for him, as he is a non-verbal 18 month old, but this seemed to be pretty closely connected to the herb he was trying to consume.  It is said that people are born with taste receptors that either love or loathe the taste of cilantro; it truly is one of those flavors that has no in between.  Though my husband and I have the "love" of cilantro, I am starting to wonder if my son's little tongue truly "loathes" it.  Of course, he also seems to "loathe" the mouthfeel of most leaves (raw or cooked, apparently), but his reaction to a heavily cilantro'ed dish today really makes me wonder.  I guess only time and his eventual ability to say, "Mommy, this is disgusting" will tell.  

Crackers and Buns

An odd title, no?  It is, however, what I have been up to this week in the world of eliminating processed foods from our diet.  The first part, the crackers, refers to the homemade cheese crackers that I baked off mid-week for the kids' snacks.  Feast your eyes upon these little beauties:

The original recipe was for goldfish crackers (http://www.cupcakeproject.com/2010/03/homemade-goldfish-crackers.html), but I didn't have a cute little fish cookie cutter, so I just made mine odd squares and rectangle shapes.  For a recipe that was essentially butter, flour, and sharp cheddar cheese, these were pretty delicious and really quite easy to make.  I used my jacked up old food processor (which makes the loudest grinding noise known to man) to cut the butter and cheese into the flour, which created a really silky dough with a very lovely, light orange color.  (Side note: I am angling for a new food processor, but I feel it necessary to break......I mean, to make mine completely non-functional before we sink another couple of hundred dollars into yet another kitchen appliance for my personal use.  The more I use mine for doughs of any kind, the more noise it makes, the more smoke it sometimes exudes and the closer I get to legitimately earning a Kitchenaid with a lower decibel level.)  Anyway, after I made the dough, I chilled it for a day (you can chill it for as little as 20 minutes just to allow the gluten to relax) - mostly because I was being lazy and I didn't feel like rolling and cutting everything out.  (At that point, I still had aspirations to use one of my mini cookie cutters to create cute little hearts or something like that.  I lost the need to make them cute when it came down to actually cutting everything out.)  When I pulled it out of the fridge the next day, I started whacking it and rolling it out almost immediately, which I quickly found was a bit of a mistake.  It took WAY more effort than was actually necessary, had I let the dough come completely up to room temperature.  (There is really no reason why you should sweat while rolling out a very pliable dough, but sweat I did.)  Once I had it rolled to approximately 1/8 of an inch thick, I decided to use a pizza cutter and cut them into bite sized pieces as quickly as possible.  I managed to use all of the dough up this way (though we did end up with some weird triangular end pieces) and placed them on two parchment lined baking sheets (see, I can follow directions).  I popped them in the oven and let them bake for about 15 minutes.  Here is where I stopped following directions.....I got a little impatient and, when they were just very lightly golden brown, I removed both sheet pans from the oven.  The crackers had puffed up gloriously and looked so pretty with their pepper flecked, cheese laden orange-y hue that I thought they would be delicious, if not completely crisp.  I popped one in my mouth almost immediately, enjoyed the warm, flaky, sharp cheese flavor and the soft, biscuit-like texture.  The kids all wanted one as well, so I doled them out and received stamps of approval all around (two verbal, "those are good" and one non-verbal, hand out, grunting demand for more).  I think, if I make them again, I will roll the dough a little thinner and I will let them bake a little longer.  They were amazing right out of the oven, but seemed to lose a little bit of their charm the next day, served from a Tupperware container at room temperature.  They still got eaten and were a good first experiment with snack cracker baking.

So, the second part of the title comes from a little experiment last night (and sadly does not have a picture to accompany my writing - sorry about that): I bought ingredients to make hamburgers and fries (a staple of our family's menu) yesterday at the grocery store.  I have probably mentioned this before, but I really dislike grocery shopping, especially when the store is as crowded as it was yesterday.  I originally intended to buy hamburger buns (just because I was feeling lazy and thought it would make a weeknight meal that much easier to deal with), but the bread aisle was ridiculously packed, not to mention being stocked at that moment, so I, in typical frustrated fashion, mentally said, "*&^% this!  I will just make the damn buns later in the week."  A couple of different factors came into play late yesterday afternoon which eventually led to my decision to serve the hamburgers and fries, and which required me to make my own hamburger buns.  So, one Google search later, I found a pretty decent recipe: http://lynnecurry.com/2012/05/whole-wheat-hamburger-buns-recipe/ and created some pretty delicious hamburger buns.  Let me just say that, usually, hamburger night in our house yields very few leftovers, despite the fact that I usually make enough for each person to have one or two burgers, in addition to a serving or more of baked fries.  Now, we had some extenuating circumstances, including one child feeling sick to her stomach prior to the meal, but we actually had three whole hamburgers left over.  Our oldest daughter could not even finish her hamburger, claiming she was already too full to polish off the last three bites.  I am going to attribute most of that to the buns.  They were light enough and fluffy enough (despite being made with 1/2 whole wheat), but they were so much more filling than the grocery store buns.  As I made my way through my own burger (with sauteed mushrooms and melted Swiss cheese.....yum), I pondered what exactly is (or rather, what is not) in those store bought buns that leaves you empty even after eating one filled with a homemade burger and toppings.  I guess, if there were any lessons learned from last night, it would be that this whole bread experiment is really worthwhile.  I mean, I knew that from the sandwich bread that I have been making for the past few weeks, but I think the hamburger buns have really driven it home for me.  Homemade breads, made with whole and unadulterated ingredients, are so much more satisfying, so much more filling, so much more nourishing.  I know it takes a lot of time - time that I don't, in fact, really have to spare, but despite that, I am really starting to commit to this idea.  I feel like I am very near that point where the bread making comes naturally to me and will be completely integrated into my processes for the week.  That is how you make time for something, right?  You MAKE the time and then, once you do whatever it is you need to do for a while, it just becomes another thing that somehow gets done.  Well, I hope so, at least.  For now, I have a couple of hamburgers to serve for lunch to whomever wants them and I have some sandwich bread proofing on my stove top.  My family is still eating all of my "experiments" and I am feeling pretty good about what I am feeding them.  Now, if I can just get the baby to stop "sharing" all of my hard work with the dog during mealtimes, I will be nearer to complete happiness.  Until next time....

Processed Foods and Allergies

This is probably going to be a fairly short post today primarily because I have just a little time left on my nap countdown clock and secondarily because I don't have much to write about.  I am still baking our bread (I have two loaves of the ATK recipe bread in the oven right now, as a matter of fact) and I am still trying to adhere to the idea of no (or low quantities of) processed foods.  Honestly, after more than three weeks of this, I am still having kind of a hard time with completely removing processed foods from my diet.  I keep longing for the days when I could send my kids to school with some kind of granola bar for their after school snack, not to mention the ability to just scoop some animal crackers into a bowl for the twice daily snack for my toddler.  I know, I know.  That is just the lazy in me talking.  Sometimes though, I really wish food was easier for us - so much of it is complicated both by my own extremely high standards (or psychosis, whichever you prefer) and my son's food allergies.  I was actually just looking up allergen information for a  chicken chain fast-food place (you know the one), where my oldest daughter's softball team is having an end of season party this evening.  Pretty much everything on their menu contains some kind of allergen and though they say that they prepare their food to avoid cross-contamination, I have to question whether or not the minimum wage employee behind the counter knows just how dangerous a speck of egg can be to my son.  So, no processed chicken for him or for me tonight.  My husband will just have to take the older two to "dinner" on their own.  That is fine.  Really, it is, but it just brings to mind how often I will have to do this for my baby.  Just this morning, I almost had a panic attack at the gym because another little toddler was finishing her breakfast of a hard-boiled egg as she walked into the nursery.  I literally had to talk myself down and not rush back into the room to remind the ladies that my son cannot have eggs and shriek, "are you SURE she finished and doesn't have any more with her?!"  I wish I could say that the allergies would get easier and I really wish the no-processed foods thing FELT easier right now.  Ah, well, like I said, that is the lazy talking.  This is the hand I (really my son) was dealt and the lack of processed stuff is just the path I have chosen (be it permanent or temporary).  I will deal and for now, I guess I need to go check on our bread.  I can already smell it and it does smell heavenly (and not processed at all). 

Bread Making

It is hard to believe that it has been almost a year since I wrote anything food related.  I have had a lot of ideas kicking around in my head since then (I should hope so), but have not really been inspired to sit down and actually write about any of them.  Today is different and should hopefully begin (again) more regular postings.  Today I want to write about bread; specifically about my recent brilliant idea to begin baking all of our bread.  That's right.  I said ALL.  I recently started reading the blog, 100 Days of Real Food (www.100daysofrealfood.com), and really took a good long look at the processed products that we consume.  One of those things, and perhaps the most oft-consumed processed food in our house: sandwich bread.  The blog suggests that any processed food you buy (and you will need to buy some) should contain five or fewer ingredients.  The sandwich bread available at my grocery store contained a list so long that it looked like a freaking paragraph and this was the "good", 100% whole wheat bread!  My kids have never even had white bread and, when presented with it, usually ask for something in the more familiar hue of brown.  I thought I was making the very best choice for my family; maybe I was, based on what I had close to hand, but reading this blog made me think that I could do better.

I started off by searching for a suitably low-in-ingredient-numbers substitute that I could purchase.  I tried the higher end, "natural" grocery stores (cough....Whole Foods....cough) and was pleased to find a couple of sandwich loaves for a moderately acceptable price.  But.....(sigh).....but, as I may not have posted on here yet, my son (now almost 18 months old) has severe and anaphylactic food allergies to eggs, nuts, tree nuts and possibly fish and shellfish.  Every single one of those sandwich loaves at Whole Foods stated that their products were made on shared machinery using nuts and tree nuts.  The baby can't eat any of it.  So, I decided to start baking bread to feed our family of five.

I have found a couple of decent bread recipes, but the only one I have repeated is the whole wheat sandwich bread recipe from America's Test Kitchen.  I saw it demonstrated on one of their programs and decided to try it.  I love it and the kids love it.  It makes a decent amount of bread (2 loaves, as opposed to other recipes that only make 1), is light, fluffy, tasty and wonderfully filling.  (Amazing what real ingredients - without "dough conditioners" - can do to fill a hungry tummy!)  It is not five ingredients, but I know every ingredient that goes into and I feel good about it.

Now, the only beef that I have with this bread recipe is the ridiculous amount of time it takes to make it.  (This is kind of typical for recipes from ATK, so beware when experimenting.)  You start the dough 24 hours in advance and then, after you mix it, the dough requires a total of 3 hours to rise before you bake it.  So, at 7 o'clock this morning, I was up, in my pajamas, drinking coffee with my toddler running around while I mixed the dough so it would have time to rise before lunch.  My oldest daughter (now 9) came downstairs and asked for breakfast.  I told her that I would fix her something after I finished with the dough, to which she replied, "why are you making all of our bread?  You know, we CAN just buy it at the store."  My reply was something to the effect that I actually enjoy making our bread, but the reality was slightly more complicated.

I think there are two reasons that the 100 Days of Real Food blog and especially making our food from scratch appeals to me right at this moment.  The first is fear.  I am, honestly and truly, afraid of our food.  I am afraid of the chemicals that might be contaminating the food I offer to my children to nourish their bodies and minds.  I am afraid of the science experiments that go on behind closed doors to genetically modify staple crops so that they can survive plagues of insects and epic droughts.  I am afraid of what this God-play is doing to our food supply.  In fact, I am just afraid of our food supply.  I am afraid of the hard truth that, someday, perhaps sooner than we think, we might just run out of enough to feed everyone.  I am afraid that this next presidential election could have far-reaching ramifications on our future and the future of our children.  I know it all sounds a little crazy and crackpot-ish, but it is my truth: I am afraid and I worry about what the future holds.  I often wonder if our parents worried about the world the way I do.  I know I am not alone in this worry and that I have done the best I can.  I have made the best choices that I can, especially where feeding my family is concerned, and I will continue to do so with the information that I have at hand.

Ultimately, that brings me to the second reason that making "real" food speaks to me right now: it brings me joy and a connection to people that make me happy.  My grandmother was a baker and an amazing cook.  She died almost 12 years ago and I still miss her so very much.  I have always felt a very deep connection to her through my cooking and I feel that deeper still when I bake.  My children make me happy (and equally frustrated, of course) and it gives me a soul-stirring joy to see them nourished with food that I made.  My son, God love him, is at such a difficult age - so independent, yet so much a baby still.  He is, however, currently my best eater and will try anything we put on his plate.  It is wonderful to see him eat with such relish and to know that I created it all from scratch.  Seriously, there is something deeply soulful to taking a bunch of raw ingredients and turning it into something deliciously satisfying. 

So, I don't know how long I will keep this "real food" thing up.  Right now, I like it and I am kind of enjoying being more stingy with my delicious bread.  Everyone gets a little bit every day and we all seem to enjoy our bread that much more.  If I come across prepared bread that meets my criteria, then, sure, I will buy it.  I am trying not to be crazy about this, after all.  Trying is, of course, the operative word.