Foodie With Family » Childish Things

Stay tuned… This Foodie is experiencing technical difficulties.

Rebecca — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 23:31:14 +0000

So. Evidently the baking ignitor in my oven breaking (and still being broken) was not enough in the technical difficulty arena. Let me recap in order to explain why I will probably not get a new food post up until tomorrow:

I cannot bake. My oven is still BROKEN!
I cannot wash dishes. The pump for our well broke overnight.
I cannot post pictures. For some reason, the usb doo-dad will not allow me to upload my pictures to the computer. The previous 2 bullet points explain why The Evil Genius is not leaping to troubleshoot my camera for me.

In the meantime, let’s play some’Foodie With Family’ Mad Libs. I’ll give you the list of parts of speech, you leave your suggestions in the comments below and we’ll see how hilarious we can get.

Verb ending in ‘ing’
Name of Famous person
Same verb ending in ‘ing’
Same famous person
Adjective
Plural noun
Nationaity
Plural noun
Plural noun
Noun
Food
Ingredient
Ingredient
Plural food
Adverb
Food
Food
Food
Type of professional, plural
Another type of professional, plural
Another type of professional, plural
Same famous person
Plural noun
Plural noun
Adverb
Same verb ending in ‘ing’
Adjective
Adjective

I’ll post the results, provided someone wants to participate!

Parental paychecks.

Rebecca — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 14:05:33 +0000

My boys have always enjoyed cooking with me. I have daily “cooking buddies”. The kids take turns (with the help of a wheel that keeps track of whose turn it is) helping me prepare dinner. There is much weeping, gnashing of teeth and rending of hair when someone’s turn is missed or Mom exerts executive privilege on a meal (no deep frying with small fry, if you know what I mean…)

Lately, however, they’ve been wanting to do their own kitchen projects. On my birthday last week my eldest snuck into the kitchen (and that takes some doing- he’s not a subtle kid.) He quietly prepared this as an “afternoon refresher” for me. Look at his plating! He takes after his Mama.

Mama’s birthday iced coffee with fancy plating by Liam.

My second-born, Aidan, caught wind of what was going on and did not want to be left out of the “doing something for Mom’s birthday” trend and banished me to the porch. In short order he presented me with this masterpiece. How about that interplay of flavors and textures? What a guy!

Granny Smith apple with chocolate sauce, almonds and blueberries- a light afternoon birthday snack for Mama by Aidan.

Buoyed by his success and the amount of huggy thanks offered by Mom, Liam woke up early a couple days ago and made me this! Love the use of edible flowers and demerara sugar in the plating…

A nice surprise morning cuppa Earl Grey with lovely plating by Liam. Note the straw- ‘”because straws make everything more fun.”

This kind of stuff is my paycheck right now. Parenting can be tough slogging, but it’s sweet little gestures like this that renew my spirit and make me smooch my kids until they run away.

Walking on Broken Glass

Rebecca — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 16:21:23 +0000

“Lift me up and take me back
Don’t let me keep on walking…
Walking on broken glass

Walking on walking on broken glass”

Annie Lennox

This song has been tearing through my head lately. We have had an abnormally high number of broken dishes around chez us lately. In the last two weeks someone or another has broken one plate, a pasta bowl, three drinking jars (I use them for canning, too…), and the gallon jar that was used for storing granola. I was doing mostly fine with it. I only freaked out a little over the gallon jar, but that’s because it fell off the top of the fridge, hit a teapot and my Kitchen Aid mixer on the way down, shattered on the countertop and then the remaining pieces shattered on the floor. That was a bit of work. Thankfully, The Evil Genius was home and -between the two of us- we kept the kids out of the way and got the glass cleaned up thoroughly.

My eyes have had a great work-out while searching really hard for every last shard each time something broke so that I wouldn’t have to dig it out of a little tootsie. I was even okay when one of my jars lost its bottom in the canner yesterday. I didn’t even think about the fact that I lost a potential jar of pickles more than twice…

…Then “it” happened. Ty was spinning around on a rotating stool. (WHY did we put those near the computer desk?) He twirled around once, kicked my favorite tea cup (the big, well-used, well-loved “One Good Woman” mug) and somehow when the cup hit the cabinet, the handle broke. The combination of the weight of the mug and the sharp jutting piece where the handle was cut Ty’s foot pretty badly on the way down. Look at the sharp edge on that thing! Poor kid. He didn’t worry about his foot- he worried that I’d be sad my favorite mug was now done-for.

Well, he didn’t worry about his foot until he saw it bleeding rather profusely. “MOM! There’s BLOOD! Lots of BLOOD!” Thankfully, it was a good, clean cut and a little pressure stopped the bleeding quickly. After a wad of gauze and half a roll of surgical tape- because how in the world do you get an adhesive bandage to stay on a 6-year-old’s foot?- Ty was back in the business of being a happy-go-lucky kid.

The glass clean-up wasn’t so bad, either, because the handle didn’t shatter. I could pick the pieces up mostly with my hands. A quick pass of the broom took care of the rest.

..But boy, am I tired of walking on, walking on broken glass.

Peanut Butter Cookie Chocolate Malt Ice Cream

Rebecca — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 11:20:27 +0000

When we finished up our end of the school year testing a couple weeks ago we were due for a celebration. The boys, after a great deal of discussion over lunch, decided to celebrate by putting together their own picnic. Because really; what do you do immediately after eating? You plan a picnic, of course. They got together and planned.

Sidebar: They’ve been really into “planning” lately. If I were a more panaroid person I’d think they were plotting against me. As it is, I’m just glad they’re getting along so well and are capable of linear thought.

Liam informed me that this was a project they intended to take on themselves. I stepped aside just in time as the sheer spontaneous force of energy that is five little boys working together sprang into action. The side door kept banging open and shut as all five boys ran back and forth between the kitchen and the yard. There was a great deal of clanging from the silverware drawer, the squelch-woosh-smack of the fridge being repeatedly accessed, and the dull thud of the pantry door getting slammed (“I don’t know how it slammed, Mom, I just so gently closed it with my foot like THIS!” [insert roundhouse kick here.])

Even though I knew the clean-up on my end would be a project of epic proportions I knew enough to bite my tongue and let them have at it. When I’m bright enough to get out of their way and let them try these sorts of things I am repayed dividends by watching the concentration and joy on their faces.

The activity came to a swift and dramatic end with an announcement from the boys. They had set up a blanket [large beach towel] in the front yard and Dad and Mom were invited to their picnic. The front door was thrown open and five beaming boys came out single file, walking ever so carefully to avoid dropping their precious cargo: Liam had a tray with little pyrex mise en place bowls full of peanut butter and strawberry freezer jam and a plate full of rough-hewn slices of whole wheat sourdough bread. (His knife skills are pretty good for a 10 year old…) Aidan had two precariously full glasses of ice water in his hands and a half eaten bag of Doritos tucked under his arm. Ty had another two filled-to-the rim glasses of ice water. Leif carried the last glass of water and a banana. Rowan brought up the end of the line with two lollipops, a banana and a cat-eating-yellow-jacket grin.

They all walked like they were balancing books on their heads down the length of our sidewalk. They crossed the first loop of driveway and carefully deposited their bounty on the beach towel blanket they had so lovingly arranged in the full sun. My husband, who was working on a ladder, climbed down and joined us. They asked me to take a picture of their feast. I was more than happy to oblige.

My boys’ picnic feast

After five minutes in the hot sun, when we had exhausted the ice water, chips and most of the bread, the boys bounced up and ran off yelling, “This is the best day EVER!” I was glad to not sit in the blazing heat any more and beat a retreat to the kitchen with the tray of leftover peanut butter, jam and other picnic detritus.

I broke the out the peanut butter again later in the day to make Manipulation Cookies (see here for explanation and recipe.) The next morning, when there were only a few cookies left, and those that were left were stripped of their chocolate kisses by my stealthy 2 year old, I sent those cookies to a better place; my ice cream maker.

In one recipe I was able to cram most things that I love in a dessert; cookies, peanut butter, chocolate, peanuts, and hazelnuts. This ice cream recipe is super simple because it’s Philadelphia style. In case you haven’t had your nose crammed into “The Perfect Scoop” like I have the past couple weeks, Philadelphia style basically means it’s easy. You don’t have eggs to temper with this recipe. Measure, whisk, add, stir, pour, freeze. That’s the method to this madness.

Manipulation (Peanut Butter) Cookie Chocolate Malt Ice Cream

Ingredients:

1 1/8 cup sugar

3 Tablespoons barley malt syrup (available in health food stores or departments, beer and wine making suppliers, and internet/mail order/store front baker supply stores.)

1 1/4 cups whole milk (if you use skim, it’ll be too icy!)

3 cups heavy cream

1 Tablespoon pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup chocolate malt syrup (Can’t find any in stores? Never fear. My recipe is below! In a pinch, you can substitute any old chocolate syrup. I recommend Nesquick because it doesn’t have High Fructose Corn Syrup!)

3 Tablespoons Frangelico liqueur

a pinch of salt

10 Manipulation Cookies, stripped of their chocolate kisses (any peanut butter cookie will suffice here, but this ice cream is really excellent using Manipulation Cookies, specifically.)

In the bowl of a stand mixer or a large mixing bowl, add malt syrup, sugar, chocolate malt syrup and milk. Whisk or mix on low speed until sugar is dissolved, about 2 minutes. When you no longer hear or feel sugar scraping on the bottom of the bowl, add vanilla, Frangelico, and heavy cream. Stir until combined. If using a stand mixer, you can beat on a slightly higher speed to incorporate a little air for a fluffier-textured finished ice cream.

Freeze according to your ice cream maker manufacturer’s instructions. When the ice cream is nearly frozen, coarsely crumble the cookies into the mixture. Allow ice cream to finish freezing, transfer to a container with a tight fitting lid and allow to harden for about two hours in the freezer.

In an homage to my kids’ efforts with their picnic the previous day, I made us PB&J Sundaes with this ice cream and some more stawberry freezer jam. Every PB&J should be this good!

PB&J Sundae

Fabulous Chocolate Malt Syrup

(Adapted from an Alton Brown recipe) The delicate malt flavor in this syrup makes it so sublime it can rival old fashioned malteds. Heck, maybe it holds up to them because it is old fashioned.)

Ingredients:

1 ½ cups water

3 cups sugar

¾ cups Dutch process cocoa powder

¾ cup black cocoa powder (If you can’t readily find this, you can order from here, or double up on the dutch process cocoa powder and omit this.)

1 Tablespoon vanilla extract

¼ teaspoon kosher salt

2 Tablespoons barley malt syrup

In a moment that proves that Alton Brown is a super hero, he says, “In a small pot, bring water and sugar to a boil and whisk in [remaining ingredients]“ Um wow. When I did this, I very nearly had a boil over. I say save a couple years on your life and use a large saucepan or pot. Here are my instructions.

In a large sauce pan (sorry, Mr. Brown) add sugar and water and bring to a boil. Whisk in the barley malt syrup, salt and vanilla. Add the cocoa powder about 1/2 a cup at a time and whisk until thoroughly incorporated. Continue whisking until the cocoa powders are totally dissolved. Lower heat and reduce slightly. Don’t overdo it here or you’ll end up with hot fudge sauce. Delicious, to be sure, but we’re shooting for syrup here. You’ll know you’ve reduced it enough when you do “the test”. Dunk a spoon in the syrup and allow excess to drip away. Drag your finger down the back of the spoon. If it leaves a clear clean space on the spoon that doesn’t fill back in your syrup is ready.

Kill the heat, pour through a fine mesh strainer into a pitcher or jar and cool completely before using. You can transfer this to a squeeze bottle after it is completely cool. It makes the best malted chocolate milk of all time and is an obvious choice for topping ice cream! Best yet? It doesn’t have any funky preservatives, food coloring or the dreaded high fructose corn syrup!

Mario Batali’s twin?!?

Rebecca — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 22:18:09 +0000

Ty needed some new summer shoes. I scoured the internet for bargains. It ain’t cheap to shoe 5 kids, let me tell you. I briefly toyed with the idea of learning to make shoes and then came to my senses and clicked my way over to eBay. Two minutes later I had purchased a bright orange pair of Crocs. Mercifully, Ty loves orange. It has been his favorite color for a very long time. I told him he could expect the shoes to come in the next week or so. Every five minutes for the next 10 days he asked when his Crocs were coming. When Mr. UPS -as our kids call the UPS delivery guy- pulled into the driveway Ty was waiting for him. He eagerly reached for the box and said, “Now I’m gonna look like Mario Batali.” Oh really?

I’ll let you judge for yourself. Does Ty look like Mario Batali? (You have to click on the pictures to see them full-size. I’m not sure why, but you do!)

My kids have a thing for Mario Batali. They like him so much they’ve given him a nickname; Oreo Cannoli. They want Oreo to make dinner for them. They want to hang out with him. They’re convinced that he’d be loads of fun to have around. Well, Mario, if you’re reading this, you’re invited! You’d make my kids’ summer.

That explains a few things…

Rebecca — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 17:23:27 +0000

I’ve been experimenting lately with trying to motivate the kids into helping me keep the house cleaner. I was slightly tired of having things stick to my feet as I walked through the house and having to move multiple bionicles in order to find a seat on the couch. I think I have finally stumbled upon a quasi-solution. Zones! Each child has been assigned their own zone. Liam has the living room. Aidan has the dining room. Ty has the dishwasher (*this has changed as of today, but more on this as the story progresses…) Leif has the shoes. Rowan has the “sit out of the way in the chair with a book while we clean” zone.

Today, Ty offered to clean the mudroom. He carefully moved the shoes away from the wall, swept and arranged the shoes back neatly. He brushed off the dogs’ bean bags, put them neatly against another wall and swept the rest of the floor. He swiffered (this is why I keep the bloody thing!) the floor and then called me to check it out. I was effusive enough in my praise that his brothers came running to see why Momma was making such a fuss. They were impressed with Ty’s work, but were clearly calculating whether it was good or bad for them that their 6 year old brother had just one-upped them in the cleaning category. They all settled for lukewarm congratulations and walked away. Except for Leif.

Leif put his hands on his hips, paced the entire mudroom, turned around and fixed me with a very hostile look. He said, “Dis is not good for my nerves.”

Mom: “Did you just say this isn’t good for your nerves?”

Leif: “Yes. Dis is bad. Bad for da nerves!”

Mom: “What is bad for your nerves?”

Leif: “Da clean. Da clean is bad for my nerves. It is not right.”

Mom: “How can the clean be bad for your nerves? It’s good for Mommy’s nerves.”

Leif (exasperated): “Clean is bad for kids’ nerves, Mom. Dey likes dirt and dey likes to play. Dat is good for their nerves.”

Well, now. That surely explains quite a bit around here. It also should mean that my children’s mental health is ship shape.

They did it. I have proof. I will use this to bribe them later.

Rebecca — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 01:31:09 +0000

They ate the crickets. I have video evidence and I will show this to their future wives. Sometimes revenge is a dish best served cold.

I’d like to apologize for the grainy quality of the video, but it was the best I could rustle up on short order. I used my digital camera for the process.

Also, I’d like to point out the fact that in the background you can hear my husband saying, “Hey! You just swallowed it. You gotta chew it up!” But what you didn’t hear- because it happened way off camera- was him categorically refusing to eat any bug under any circumstances shy of famine and starvation ever, ever, ever.

Proof that my children are wild.

Rebecca — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 23:22:02 +0000

…The thing is that snails in aioli really are great. A few million Frenchmen can’t be wrong!

Roasted Crickets

Rebecca — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 16:03:07 +0000

…That is what my kids told me yesterday when asking whether I could help them roast crickets and then dip them in chocolate. That is what I get for allowing them to read books about survival skills.

I have 9 crickets chilling, literally, in my fridge in preparation to roast them. Mmm hmm. I said I’m going to roast crickets. If you read yesterday’s post (and she smacks her forehead!) you will see how this all came about. I’m a little too disgusted with myself to go into the whole thing again. So the big debate is whether the boys should have them salty or, as Ty- the originator of the idea- suggests, dipped in dark chocolate. I don’t care.

I tried talking to my sister for moral support. She was no help. She was excited. I think she has latent hostility toward me for all those times I stuck my pointy elbow in her ribs.

Me (whining): “I can’t believe I promised Ty I would help him roast crickets.”

Jessie: “That’s awesome! I think I saw a children’s book about cooking with insects. Maybe you could get it from the library to reinforce the lesson.”

Me: “What lesson? The lesson that I shouldn’t ‘promise’ to roast crickets? I got that one down already.”

Jessie: “No. I mean it’s really neat! There are people all over the world who eat insects. This is a great lesson.”

Me: “Well then, why don’t you come over and help them and then you can eat some?”

Jessie: “I’m a vegetarian.”

Me: “Lame excuse.”

Not shockingly, none of my cookbooks had advice on how to do this. Survivorman skewered the live buggies and roasted them over an open flame. I’m not skewering live crickets. After googling, “How to roast crickets”, unsurprisingly the choices were few. Here’s the “recipe” I found.

“Recipe for Dry Roasted Crickets

It is important to know that once insects die, postmortem changes happen rapidly making them unpalatable very quickly. You have to cook them alive like you do a lobster.

Just before cooking, put your crickets in the refrigerator until you are ready to roast them. You don’t want to kill them, only slow their metabolism down so that they stop moving. This allows for arranging them on the cookie sheet with out them trying to get away.

Preheat oven to 200 degrees. Spread a bunch of pre cooled live crickets out on a cookie sheet. Bake at low temperature for an hour or more until completely dry. Test by crushing a dried cricket with your fingers. If they do not seem completely dried out, roast them some more. However, be careful not to burn them as they taste terrible scorched! Let cool.

Dry Roasted Crickets have a nutty flavor and are very good eaten plain with a sprinkle of salt. They are also very tasty as a substitute for nuts in dessert and cookie recipes. Dry Roasted Crickets can also be blended into flour to be added to bread flours to make lots of different recipes. “

I guess I feel a little comforted by the fact that they said “lobster” in there somewhere. Anthony Bourdain, as I recall, described lobsters as giant sea-roaches. I know, academically, that lots of people eat these. All this does not change the fact that insects have been on my food no-no list since, well, since I first compiled a food no-no list.

Even though I’m doing an awful lot of complaining about this I am taking some measure of pleasure from the fact that my kids are willing to try something new and unusual as disgusting as this new and unusual thing is to me. If they end up eating them -and they’d best eat the darned things if I give up some of my precious dark chocolate for the project- I will take pictures and post them.

(And she smacks her forehead!)

Rebecca — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 00:26:50 +0000

Aidan, age 8, and Ty, age 6, came flying through the door while I was preparing tonight’s deja food masterpiece. Aidan, tightly grasping two cups with the open ends pushed together yelled, “Ty just had the BEST idea for dessert tonight, Mom. Tell her Ty!”

At this point I expected them to show me some wild strawberries from the driveway.

Ty exuberantly shouted, “Roast crickets dipped in dark chocolate. I would’ve said milk chocolate, but I know you like dark chocolate better, Mom.”

Well, yes, but, ummmm… Where to go with this one?

He opened up the cups and, sure enough, showed me 4 large crickets he had “chose ’cause they looked good and meaty.”

I feel the need to interrupt myself here to make clear that we don’t eat insects around these parts. Food prices are high, but they’re not that high.

I tried to take the path of least resistance and explain that I wasn’t prepared to roast crickets tonight and I had dinner all ready to go. We just wouldn’t have time. It worked. Ty was morose, but he took the crickets out the side door and released the things. He came back in the house, washed his hands, took one look at my prepared dinner and promptly refused to eat.

Another interruption: The kid who wanted roasted crickets with dark (or milk) chocolate refused a meal comprised of things he had loved the day before.

I tried to strong-arm him. “Eat your dinner!” Nope.

I tried to coax him. “Hey! Your brothers are eating it and they seem to like it!” Nothing doing.

I tried reasoning with him. “You know, this food is all stuff you liked just yesterday. Not only that, but it is chock-a-block with nutrients and vitamins that you need in order to get big enough to bully your brothers. You do want that, don’t you?” Negatory.

I cannot believe what came out of my mouth next. I actually clamped my hand over my own mouth as soon as I heard myself say it.

“If you eat it I’ll roast you some crickets tomorrow night.”

Argh! What did I just do? He picked up the bowl and shoveled the stuff into his mouth with a delighted look. He ate his dinner in record time and proceeded to regale me with cricket nutritional information while I tried to choke back mine.

“Crickets are full of protein, Mom.”

“I think they’re probably good with calcium, too, Mom. Not sure, though, but they ought to be crunchy!”

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

That’s what I get for trying to negotiate over the dinner table.

Whimper.