Archive for the ‘food stuffs’ Tag
April 20 2010
A few days ago, after J got home from work, he and Jedi helped make pizza from scratch. While I browned the meat, their job was to spread out the dough and distribute pepperoni and pile on cheese and all desired toppings. Jedi sat at the kitchen table and probably made more of a mess than anything. But it was his mess for his pizza.
The benefits to getting kids to help in the kitchen are obvious. It can be a great way to introduce new ingredients, since giving children ownership of their meal makes them more willing to try whatever it is they’ve created. It also gives them a tangible reason to be proud of themselves and stretch their imagination while also relaying into a lovely bonding moment. But really, what’s more fun than playing with your food?
Of course, we made pizza this time. The kid would have probably loved it regardless, as long as it didn’t have peppers or anchovies. But it was his, made with the help of his two little hands, and he couldn’t stop raving over it.
“This is better than the pizza we buy!”, he exclaimed with sauce smeared across his cheek.
It was so good he ate two large slices. Then, he had more for lunch the following day. And possibly the day after. When my parents came by the next afternoon, Jedi wasted no time in telling them about his pizza making adventure and how delicious it was.
Apparently, the boy makes a really good pizza. Though maybe next time I should let him help arrange a salad.
December 08 2009
The cold air has hit, even a light dusting of snow has fallen, and in this house that means it’s time for chili. J’s chili, to be exact. I wish I had a recipe to share, but the measurements are far from exact. He kind of just throws everything but the kitchen sink in a crockpot and lets it simmer.
It’s yummy.
Because of the variation in ingredients, the end result is slightly shifted at each taste, while still remaining familiar. It is thick and hearty, especially with a handful of crackers. He makes enough to feed a neighborhood or two, so along with dinner, I had some for lunch yesterday and today and tomorrow and probably the day after. As well as late-night snacks and maybe even breakfast. It’s a good thing I don’t have anywhere important to be, because I’m sure I’ll smell like I bathed in it.
November 27 2009
Our first hosted Thanksgiving dinner wasn’t nearly the chaotic catastrophe I had envisioned. The turkey was done with plenty of time to spare, the stuffing was delicious and inhaled. A few other dishes didn’t turn out quite like I had hoped, but nothing was disastrous.
We even managed to keep our good humor in check. For the most part. Strangely, our one argument throughout the day involved the cranberries. Not a recipe regarding fresh cranberries, because that might make a little more sense. No, my family is the simple sort who prefers the canned variety. We weren’t even adding anything extra to it. In fact, I don’t even like cranberries.
No, we argued on how to present the cranberries. And it wasn’t really an argument, it was a “this is my way” “well, I don’t like your way”, kind of thing.
Maturity, people. We own it in abundance.
J believes that once free from the can, the cylindrical cranberry gelatin should be sliced into wobbly circles. I didn’t realize this. My mom never sliced hers; she simply opened a can, put it in a bowl, smushed it up. Voila! Thanksgiving side dish staple at it’s finest. I was even laughing at how ridiculously lazy the whole thing was. That’s when I began to smush. And J began to wrinkle his nose.
You’re kidding me, right? I’m storming out of the room over cranberries? I DON’T EVEN LIKE CRANBERRIES. Stupid cranberries.
Other than that, dinner went off without a hitch. I wish we had a bigger table, but we managed. Our pleasantries returned, the food was good, conversations were loud, and the bowl of smushed cranberries was heartily devoured.
November 25 2009
For the very first time, we are hosting Thanksgiving dinner.
(Insert insane laughter here.)
In our teeny tiny house. At our teeny tiny dinner-for-4 table. In our teeny tiny kitchen. With teeny tiny children running underfoot. Wearing our teeny tiny, miniscule even, chefs hats. We have never cooked a whole turkey before. Hell, we’ve never cooked a whole chicken before.
This should be interesting.
(Insert more insane laughter.)
I know they say it’s not about the food, it’s about the family. But my family really likes their food. Thankfully, my husband is going to help. He will be the one to wrestle the bird. He is also going to remove the giblets, because ew. We have a general idea of the sides we’re going to prepare. We’ve planned this far. The end result is a whole nother story. We have extras of everything possible for experimental purposes and/or in case of a catastrophe. Unfortunately, there is only one turkey.
This could go one of two ways: either not that bad, or it’s all gonna blow to pieces. Honestly, my vote is for the latter. Both J and myself tend to become overwhelmed easily. Put us fretting in a teeny tiny kitchen, fighting for space if not our lives, and our marriage may be at stake. At least I should get a good story out of it.
Pray for us.
October 15 2009
I’ve mentioned before my volatile relationship with the kitchen. As such, I’m a very safe, play it by the book type of cook. We even have all the requisite equipment that is supposed to make your life savory and easy. Along with the normal pots and pans, we have a crockpot, a wok, and an electric grill. Most of which get very minimal use, if any at all. They’re good dust collectors, though.
At his last outing to the grocery store, J bought a pack of pork chops (which I can’t say without thinking of Peter Brady) along with marinade. Somehow, before we prepared these pork chops, J got it in his head that they should be cooked in an electric skillet. That somehow, they would turn into tender, delicious, bites of flavor-induced ecstasy.
I didn’t even know they sold electric skillets anymore. It’s not like I’ve seen one in use within the last decade.
So apparently they do sell them, because he bought one and quickly put it in action that night. Now, I’m not a big fan of pork to begin with, but I don’t believe they turned out as planned. They were dry. They were bland. They were chewy. There was no ecstasy. We could have achieved the same result with a regular pan that we already owned. Not that I’m ever one to say I told you so. Or take a little too much pleasure in someone else’s faults (read: not mine, for once) (read: ha! ha!).
Except now, I have this rather large electric skillet that is going to take up more room than I have to spare in our kitchen cabinets, probably never to be seen or heard from again. Another small appliance, collecting layers of dust. Apparently, along with buying uber expensive Halloween costumes, my husband is all about wasting money this month.
Unless, does anyone know what I can make in this thing?
I'm Crystal. A 30-something mom to 3 young kids living in the Midwest USA. When I'm not chasing my children, I'm a freelance writer and web designer. I like to tell stories from our days and share what we enjoy...
