Valentine's Day: A Recap

If Halloween weren't such a perfect fit for our little girl, between the costumes, candy, and birthday on its heels, I think Valentine's Day would be her holiday. She has a thing for telling others that she loves them, for wanting to make things for others to show them she loves them. She digs wearing pink and red and eating anything sweet (let alone heart-shaped). And, even though I don't remember ever being a Valentine's kind of girl (but who knows, maybe I was at four, ask my mom), it's hard not to catch some of that cupid's spirit watching her in action. A recap of how we spent our Valentine's Day:



Before the holiday, I made Audrey a couple heart-shaped barrettes based off of a design found here at Purl Bee. I didn't have the correct-sized barrettes on hand for their pattern, so I improvised. A little felt + a little embroidery floss + a couple of barrettes = some pint-sized holiday cheer. I have a feeling more of these little barrettes are in our future, maybe some stars or flowers.



Apparently, Valentine's Day at our house also means crust. Lots and lots of crust.




We began the evening with made-to-order calzones using the pizza dough recipe from Jamie Oliver's Jamie at Home.



After dinner, we busied our hands with a little more dough (some store-bought pie crust) and made these super simple heart-shaped cherry turnovers of sorts. We found the four-ingredient recipe here. We used the cookie cutters that we already owned but might have to get some bigger ones before we try this again.



We hope you had a wonderful Valentine's Day and were able to spread a little love, or eat a little crust. ;)

Tress Control

I've never been what one would call hair savvy. God knew this, which is why he gave me hair that resembles a Crimp 'n Curl Cabbage Patch Kid. You curl it around your finger and it stays. Stick a pencil in it, it stays (the boys who sat behind me in high school Physics had a field day with this experiment). Once you got past the shock of the sheer volume of it (no pun intended), the directions of what to do with my corkscrew curly hair were pretty freeing - don't blow dry; wash-and-go; finger comb it; and for the love of Vidal Sassoon, whatever you do, don't try to brush it out. Oh, and cut it, ahem, once or twice a year as the mood hits you. It grows out in corkscrew shapes, for heaven's sake, that takes a while. (That last piece of advice is my own lazy, too-cheap-to-pay-for-frequent-haircuts advice. I'm sure my stylist - if I had such a thing - would disagree).



But God has a sense of humor. Enter my beautiful daughter with striking blond so-straight-and-slick-you-can't-keep-a-barrette-in-it-without-the-assistance-of-duct-tape hair. Other than shaking my head every time I dropped another few dollars on yet another package of soon-to-disappear barrettes, I didn't think much about it. In fact, I thought nothing about her hair maintenance (other than shampooing it) until I won a free gift certificate for a child's haircut. And so, we went for a mother-daughter outing to get her hair cut for the first time. She was, ahem, three.



Funny thing about straight hair. It grows. Fast. So, now (cough) a year later, she was in desperate need of a cut, to the point where she's been asking for one. I had passed a book called How to Cut Your Own Hair (or Anyone Else's) by Marsha Heckman, Cathy Obiedo, and Claudia Allin one day at the library. So when it came back into circulation earlier this month, I grabbed it.



After the confidence that comes from reading two pages of hair-cutting instructions, I got down to business. We laid out my tools of the trade on top of a receiving blanket and wrapped another receiving blanket around Audrey's shoulders (so many uses for those receiving blankets). I squirted her hair with a spray bottle (an act she found funny and asked for again and again) and began to snip away a few inches. I'll be honest. I can't tell if it's straight or not, she never stands in one spot long enough to be sure. But the shorter cut suits her and her heart-shaped face. And, it's a good cut for dancing, which is what four-year-old hair is really about.



I thought that would be the end of our hair adventures for the week, until I cut open an avocado to find it less than guacamole-perfect. In the spirit of waste not, I decided to give it a second life. This week, I began reading Ashley English's Canning & Preserving. I discovered she has a blog, which has a link on it to this avocado hair mask. I didn't have sour cream in the house, but if there's one recipe for an avocado hair treatment online, surely there are two, right? So after a popping a few words into a Google search, I found a Revitalizing Avocado Hair Treatment that required an avocado and honey. Bingo. I combined my two ingredients and lathered the mixture into my wet hair. I combed it through, from scalp to ends, and wrapped my hair up into a shower cap. Then I set a timer for twenty minutes, cranked up some Tony Bennett (shush, I love him) and got to work on a project. Between Tony and the work at hand, I let the timer get away from me. It beeped and another twenty minutes went by. I was snapped back to the treatment at hand when honey began dripping down my neck. A quick rinse and the treatment was complete. My hair feels better today, although, it could use a cut - not that I'm ready to take that on myself. Yet.

Soup Days

Some call this stretch of days winter. I could just as easily call them Soup Days. Something about being tucked between sheets of snow and rain-soaked clouds makes me want to have a pot of something warm bubbling on the stove, simmering away urging us to relax and find the comfort in settling into the rhythms and days at home. Of course, full days at home require free hands to keep those little hands busy and happy during the day. So, I like my soups to cook themselves. Well, as much as they can. Recently, we tried a new one based on a recipe for Roasted Tomato and Paprika Soup from Heidi Swanson's Super Natural Cooking. Her version involves roasting all of the vegetables, which I'm wanting to try this summer when we can get our hands on some fresh-from-the-garden tomatoes. For now, we improvised (and played around with amounts of certain ingredients to better suit the tastes of some of our picker eaters). Here's our version:

42.5 oz. (otherwise known as one large plus one small can) fire-roasted canned tomatoes
1 large red bell pepper
2 large onions
4 garlic cloves
3 c. chicken stock
1/4 tsp. paprika
extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Seed and quarter the red pepper, skin and quarter the onions. Rub a rimmed cookie sheet with olive oil. Coat the quartered veggies in olive oil. Place them on the baking sheet (peppers skin down) with the garlic cloves (skins still on). Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Bake about 45 minutes until the onions get brown on top (you may want to turn the onions at some point, but I got busy chasing children and skipped this step). Chase children, count snowflakes, take the dog out, notice the house is starting to smell good.

About thirty minutes into the veggies baking, pull out a stockpot and dump in the tomatoes and stock. (Depending on how thick you want your soup, you may not want to put all 3 cups of stock in at once, I kind of wish I would have made ours a little thicker, but on day 2 it was perfect as is). Bring to a simmer.

Take roasted veggies out of oven. Peel the garlic, put all veggies in a food processor and puree. Add puree to soup. Add paprika. (You could puree the entire soup at this point to give it a creamier texture, but we were going for a more rustic feel). Serve with bread, because what's the fun of using a spoon?

If you like your tomato soup creamy, this probably isn't your soup. But if you want to try a little something different with some great smoky undertones to it, give this one a try.

Christmas Future

Before we close the door on the Christmas festivities of this year and move on to the projects and celebrations of the year to come, I wanted to note a few projects, recipes, and ideas that have me inspired for Christmas future. These things didn't fit into our holiday plans (or skill sets, in some cases) this year, but perhaps, a Christmas soon:

This Christmas tree garland made by Stephanie at 3191 Miles Apart is simple and sweet, and one I think Audrey could help me make once she masters scissors. It also doesn't hurt that it's lightweight and unbreakable, considering we're going to have little feet running circles around our trees for several years.

Another project that might take a year or two for us to develop the necessary small motor skills to accomplish is Geninne's Bird Ornament. I think Audrey would love having a few of these little guys perched in a future tree.

As we embark on each new year of "family life" together, with each new addition, adventure, or interest that we welcome, one thought (and one goal) seems to constantly call to me: simplify. I pray for simplicity, I meditate on it, I read books about it, and I seek ways incorporate it into our days so that the little things that matter so much don't get buried by the whirlwind of busy knocking on our door each morning. While this idea would take some work on the front-end, I love the simplicity it would afford us later. Amanda at Soule Mama posted instructions for making Fabric Gift Bags - bags that get used year after year for the gifts under your tree. I have a stash of gift wrap that was given to me for free several years ago. I'm still making my way through the stash. But, I love the idea of tossing gifts into cloth bags and tying the attached ribbons tight around them - no wrapping. No paper to clean up and recycle after, just fold the cloth bags up, store them, and pull them out the next year. Simple. Love it.

Of course, no holiday would be complete without food to fill the stomach and warm the soul. I found two recipes this year that I would love to try sometime. The first, Overnight Caramel Pecan Rolls, say they can be made in the bread machine. My vision goes a little like this: the bread machine does the work for me Christmas Eve, I tuck the raised doughy rolls into the fridge for a good night's sleep, then pop them in the oven Christmas morning to cook as the kids open their gifts. Right around the time they open their last presents, smells of cinnamon and caramel flood the kitchen signaling breakfast. It's almost like Santa brought them, himself.

The second, posted by Christina at Soul Aperture, is for cinnamon honey butter. It seems to me, if you're going to eat warm bread with a little something special on top, what better time than Christmas?

That's it for this year's future Christmas inspiration list. I made a similar list last year. And, while I completely forgot about the list until well into the Christmas season, we did manage to try out something on the list for our Christmas this year. So here's to hoping some of these ideas will be revisited next December, or sooner.

Out of the Pantry and into the Cookie Jar

Some days you just have to roll up your sleeves and get your hands dirty - or at least find your way up to your wrists in cookie dough. Yesterday, Audrey and I grabbed some pantry staples and got down to some serious cookie-making business. Audrey's aunt gave her a Sesame Street cookbook featuring all cookie recipes several months ago. While spring doesn't scream pumpkin, I've been eager to try one of the recipes for pumpkin cookies. Some cloudy weather seemed like the perfect excuse to give them a try (as if we needed an excuse). These cookies turned out chewy with a nice hint of spice, even though I think I baked them one minute too long. The best part? With ingredients like cranberries, oats, and pumpkin, I didn't feel too bad when Audrey and I ate over a dozen in two days. Here is our adapted recipe:

Pumpkin Cranberry Oat Cookies

1/2 c. all-purpose flour

1/2 c. whole wheat flour

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg

1/4 tsp. baking soda

1 1/2 c. packed light brown sugar

1/2 c. butter, softened

1 egg

1 tsp. vanilla

1/2 c. solid-pack pumpkin

2 c. old-fashioned oats

1 c. dried cranberries

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine flours, cinnamon, salt, nutmeg, and baking soda in a bowl and set aside. Meanwhile, in an electric mixer beat the butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy (about five minutes). Beat in vanilla and egg. Slowly blend in pumpkin. Add in flour mixture and beat until just combined. Add in oats, beat until well mixed. Stir in cranberries and drop by tablespoon onto parchment paper-lined cookie sheets. Bake for 12 minutes. Cookies should be golden brown. Keep cookies cooling on cookie sheet for one minute before cooling on wire racks. Enjoy. (Makes about 2 dozen).

~ Adapted from Sesame Street's Yummy Cookies.

Pork Vegetable, The Other, Ahem, Chicken Noodle

I have a full-service mother. While in college, she sent enough goodies (snacks to keep us fed and other items like bubbles or silly putty to keep us laughing) in care packages to feed and entertain not only my sister and I, but all our friends as well. My parents were those that drove in separate vehicles to drop us off at college so we could haul all our things, unloaded all our stuff, assembled loft beds my father had built, and then took us out to eat before making the two-hour drive home (most likely leaving a stash of homemade cookies or brownies behind). My parents came over last Friday to take Audrey off our hands so I could focus on taking care of Jason's bum knee. They also brought along a pork loin to eat for dinner. Like I said, full-service. We ate half of the pork loin that night and had half left over. The meat was so tender, it fell apart when touched with a fork, which gave me an idea.

Last summer while eating at Patti's Restaurant (well, we actually ate at Bill's - same food, shorter wait), Jason and I tried a Pork Vegetable Soup. It was fantastic. I kept meaning to attempt some sort of rendition once we got home. I never did. Until Friday. The soup I made isn't the one we had at Patti's. Patti's had lima beans in it and didn't have several of the items I threw into the mix. The soup I made could just as easily be called Pantry Soup or A Handful of This, A Smidge of That, because I basically threw in whatever we had on hand. So here it is, by the smidgen and handful:

I started with 2 quarts of chicken stock brought to a boil and added:
Half a diced onion
3 hearts of celery diced and an equal amount of diced carrots
Several cranks of fresh ground pepper and sea salt
At this point, I turned the soup down to a simmer, letting the veggies soften a bit before adding:
The pork loin (probably a pound), shredded
1 cup of elbow pasta
1 can kidney beans, drained
1 cup of frozen corn kernels
Then, I tried to think of what seasoning to add to give it some pizazz. Sage is a common herb used to compliment pork, but it can decrease a nursing mother's milk supply. So, when all else fails, I figured I'd toss in a bay leaf (it seems to work for Racheal Ray) and let the pot simmer just a bit longer.

The recipe was a success. Definitely something we'll bring to the table again and play around with depending on what we have on hand the next time around. You've got to love a dinner that just comes together, especially when your mama has done half the work for you.

Button Week?

If baby number two came with a label, it would read this: Pace yourself. Nathan is the epitome of this mantra: a lingerer of the eyes; slow to fuss; happy to just be. I considered myself a natural pacer. My sport was distance running. My hobbies are ones that require patience, repetition, and time. I'm indecisive. In. The. Most. Pain-staking. Way. (My husband is laughing, also in a pain-staking way). If not pacing myself, every ounce of me seems to lend itself toward the, ahem, slow. I thought my patience suited me to being crafty with Audrey, rolling with the punches (or paint-splattered clothing, play-dough matted rug, whatever the case may be) of creative living, so to speak.

And, then there were two. Turns out, I don't move as slow as I thought I did. Nothing points this out quite like adapting to the unexpected schedule of living with a baby and toddler while attempting to do creative projects with said toddler. I have been planning a Button Day. Several weeks ago, a friend emailed me a recipe for Button Cookies. They sounded yummy - and adorable. My wheels began turning. Why not have a yummy adorable day - a Button Day - filled with button-inspired crafts? Audrey and I would make cookies and play with the different textures and sizes of buttons. What could be more simple?

Apparently, a lot of things. I've been attempting to pull off Button Day for a week and a half. But things pop up, people pop in, and Button Day gets put up on the shelf for another day. This weekend, I decided that Button Day was going to happen. I pulled out the recipe. I realized I didn't have shortening. I didn't feel like running to the store. I got online and found an alternative no-shortening-required recipe. We made the dough. Then, we decided that Audrey was too tired to stay up to her normal bedtime and we put her to bed early. The dough got refrigerated for another day.

We baked the cookies Sunday. They were adorable. Audrey chose to make them orange and brown, after I told her I didn't have black food coloring as she requested (blame the color choices on her near Halloween-baby status). Audrey says they were yummy. They are harder than I like my sugar cookies, so I haven't tried one. The dough was a bit dry and crumbly, making it hard to roll out. But the manner in which Audrey used a straw to create four buttonholes here, a randomly-placed three buttonholes there, was perfect. I'm eager to try my friend's original recipe for Button Cookies Round Two.

As for the button craft? We're still waiting for our moment. This might just be a Button Week. We've got a new mantra. We're pacing ourselves.

Taking Stock

Here's a little secret. I'm getting a little help this week. A lovely group of ladies (and my mother-in-law last night) have been feeding my family this week, granting me some precious free time to finally tackle a sudden mountain of laundry and make the adjustment from busy family of three to busier family of four. Tonight, I used a bit of that free time to make future dinner preparations just a bit simpler. Using those jarred gifts so popular at Christmas-time as my muse, I jarred up the dried ingredients for our go-to dinner muffins. Then, I typed an abbreviated recipe card and slapped it on the front of the jar. Easy-peesy. Now, I just have to toss the dried ingredients in a bowl, add a few fresh ingredients, and we're into the oven and off to the races in no time. The best part? The jars just get thrown into the dishwasher for a quick clean-up when I'm done. And, they're pretty. Pantry art, if you will.

One More Look Back...

I realize that it's January 4th. And, while I should be focused on the now, I'm finding myself dawdling just a little bit in the Christmas season. Perhaps, it's Nathan's fascination with the Christmas tree lights, or the lack of free time to take down our ornaments. It could have something to do with the time I've spent the last couple of days finally getting our Christmas pictures developed and our cards signed. Ahem. Whatever the reason, could you humor me for one last post? We had a sweet little Christmas here this year, we wouldn't have changed a thing. However, I couldn't help but be inspired by a few things I ran across while reading others' blogs this season. So, for the sake of putting it all in one spot (and giving you one last dose of Christmas cheer and eye candy), here are some ideas I love for next year:

This tree by The Lettered Cottage.

The bulbs hanging from ceiling in the second picture on this post featured on the Spire Design Group Blog.

The idea of a Picture Book and Activity Advent for the month, found at The Crafty Cow (there is also one for 2009).

This Western Union card, posted by Betz White.

These recipes:
Apple Cranberry Tart and Roasted Red Pepper Crostini posted by Stephanie Levy.
101 Cookbooks: Sparkling Ginger Chip Cookies and Orange and Oat Scones.
Chocolate-Dipped Hazelnut Marbles posted on Chocolate and Zucchini.
Three Layer Peppermint Bark found on Orangette.

Here's to moving on to the now, and looking ahead to next year and the Christmas to come.

Summer's Bounty

What do you get when you leave your garden unattended for a week in July? A sinkload of zucchini as big as your femur. Ok, maybe not as big as my femur, but twice the size of Audrey's femur, hands-down. Seeing a sinkful of straight-from-the-garden produce makes me feel blessed. Blessed by the warm carefree days of summer where Mother Nature does the hard work and I sit with my free pass and watch her spectacular show. Blessed that when I do have to get up from my seat to assist in Mother Nature's assembly line, my body is able and willing to do the physical work. Blessed by the vibrant colors, shapes, and tastes - each piece a once-in-a-lifetime to awaken the senses. Blessed by the small pair of fresh eyes and hands at my waist that remind me that adventures are as close as our backyard.



Of course, when I see this same produce out of the sink and and sprawling the width of the refrigerator drawers and shelves in a manner that would make a claustrophobic person gulp for air, I feel a little overwhelmed. This kind of overwhelmed requires a plan. One that sent Audrey and I to the grocery store today in search of all items zucchini-accompaniment-friendly, and me seeking out zucchini-clad recipes new and old. First up: Giada De Laurentiis' Pasta Primavera with a side of fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants bruschetta. The pasta is colorful and fresh and has a light summer feel with just a touch of olive oil and cheese en lieu of sauce. (Disclaimer: I lost track of time and roasted my veggies a bit too long, but I do wish there was a little more of a kick to the dish. What can I say, I'm a big marinara girl). And the bruschetta? It was surprisingly not too shabby, either.

Kristin's Fly-By-The-Seat-of-Her-Pants Bruschetta:

Loaf of Italian Bread
Handful of cherry tomatoes (or as many needed to fill your number of slices)
Few leaves of fresh basil
Mozzarella cheese
One garlic clove
Olive Oil

Jason and I had some great bruschetta while in Dallas, so when we came home to find a handful of cherry tomatoes ripe for the picking, we had bruschetta on the mind. While bruschetta is all about flavor for me, it's more about texture for him. He wants his bread to "melt in his mouth" rather than crunch against his teeth. I tried to make both of us happy with this recipe (or course, I left the bread in just a hair too long to reach perfect "melt in your mouth" goodness for Jason, but we were close).

Preheat oven to 450 degrees (my oven was already set to this for the veggies, so that's why I picked this temperature). Put a glub of olive oil onto a cookie sheet. Roll cherry tomatoes in olive oil and spread out on pan. Put them in the oven to roast for a few minutes until they split open. As tomatoes roast, cut desired number of bread slices. Press one garlic clove (or finely dice and smash with a knife to let out juices) and spread a little on each slice. Top with cheese. Tear or slice basil and sprinkle a little over each slice. Cool tomatoes until just able to touch. Dice tomatoes and use them to top bread slices. Return cookie sheet to oven until the cheese has melted. Enjoy.

Round One of Mission: Refrigerator Freedom a success. Time to get out the grater for Round Two. Zucchini Bread anyone?

Guess I Should Have Used the Blue Bowls

This week, I feel as though we're doing a little bit of old-wedding-adage cooking, if you will. As the sun plays peek-a-boo and the rain takes over tree-watering duty, we're getting in one last round of our favorite wool-weather soups before we grow so tired of them, we consider throwing the soup bowls out. Last night, I opted for Jason's favorite, South Union Spring Garlic and Potato Soup using a "borrowed" recipe by George Formaro. As I chopped the ingredients, I couldn't help but think of this as a perfect transition-of-seasons soup. Some potatoes from the pantry - a hearty "something old" that has been a winter staple; and the "something new," fresh-from-the-store green onions that have me daydreaming of the farmers markets and strawberry picking soon to come. The soup is easy to throw together, but takes time to simmer, which seems right on a day like yesterday, where fleece jackets and slow snuggling are in order, but lots of work is not.




Of course, we didn't follow the recipe to the letter, opting to substitute the spring garlic for green onions and reducing the cornstarch to 1.5 Tbsp. and the cold water to 2 Tbsp. It just seems to work better for us. A warm meal that tastes like something your mama might have made, well, that always works for us.

Finally!

Last summer, we grew our first family garden. We started late, in June, after most of our gardening neighbors had already begun to harvest greens and radishes. But, I had this dream of a little raised wooden bed and dreams die hard, especially when an empty yard is involved. Jason jumped on board, turned my sketch of a simple raised bed into a two-tiered Barbie Dream House of a raised bed and helped me build and fill it with what gardening center leftovers we could find. We planted sugar pie pumpkin seeds around the perimeter of the garden. To say they took root would be an understatement. To say they took over, well, that's a little more accurate. We harvested several small pumpkins. In November, I roasted a few, scooped out the baked insides, and pureed them in the food processor. I froze the pureed pumpkin with hopes of making pumpkin pies. Unfortunately, I've yet to find a pumpkin pie recipe that agrees with me. (So if you have a foolproof one - and I mean FOOLPROOF, send it my way). Regardless, no amount of kitchen blunders or lack of culinary pumpkin pie mojo could quell my desire to try out the fruits of our summer labor. So, today, Audrey and I donned our aprons and finally got down to business making some Maple Pumpkin Bread (you'll need to scroll down the hyperlinked page a bit to find the recipe).



I have used this recipe several times using canned pumpkin. It calls for three cups of mashed pumpkin, but I thought I'd give it a try with our pureed sugar pie pumpkin. The results? Well, this recipe and I get along just fine.*




But the best thing about this bread is that it reminds me of the our summer garden and the flowers that opened up every morning on the pumpkin vines. Seeing them from our kitchen window made doing dishes seem a little less like the drudge work it usually feels like. Sadly, in the afternoon they would close up like tight cocoons for the rest of the day. Jason and I often commented on how much we missed seeing them after their morning exhibition. But had they been open all day, would we have given them the attention they deserved (and would I have been drawn to do the dishes early in the morning rather than leaving them all day)? Probably not. Funny how so many things are that way.


*Warning: This recipe make a lot of bread. This has never been a problem in my house, but others may not suffer from our spiced carb addiction. Also, the bread is usually darker (and oranger) than the picture above. My pumpkin puree was a lot lighter than the canned pumpkin I usually use. We also took the bread out a bit early, as in, as soon as I was sure it was baked all the way through. We had to leave to make it to a story time on time. What can I say? Today was a practice in really poor time management, but really great bread.