A Better Bite

Gah!

The Biggest Loser finale is in just a half hour!

I'm so excited.

I've kind of been looking forward to it all day. Does that make me totally lame?

You know what does NOT make me lame?

The fact that today, was one of those days where I just felt like I got it right. Probably because my house was full of friends and family ALL day (from 9-5 ish) and because I ate tasty, though perhaps not nutritious, snacks all day (thanks Cait!).

Speaking of snacks, let me tell you about my cookies. 

So you all probably know that I am not a cookie maker.  

But lately I've been seeing the benefit of baking snacks at home. I especially love muffins.  I feel like I can stuff them full of good-for-me ingredients and they still taste yummy.

So last night, I got a hankering for some oatmeal cookies.  In my head the oatmeal cookies were going to work sort of like the muffins.  A little fudging on the recipe to take out the "bad" stuff and add in some "good" stuff. No big deal. 

Unfortunately, as cookies, they were a bit disappointing. 

However, as a breakfast bite, they were pretty passable.  I served them to two different people and got fan reviews,  so won't give up on it yet.  Perhaps with a little more trial and error, I will perfect a yummy and body-friendly oatmeal cookie, or at least a better breakfast bite. 

If you want to try your hand at making a better oatmeal cookie, I'll catch you up on what I tried and you can keep me up to date on what you try.  Together we can save the world through a better bite.  Or something like that.

Original recipe:

3/4 Cup butter, softened

1 Cup packed brown sugar

1/2 Cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon (optional)

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves (optional)

2 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 3/4 Cup all-purpose flour

2 Cups rolled oats

mix, bake (375 for 10 minutes), yahda yahda yahda

What I did:

1 Cup canned pumpkin

1 Cup packed brown sugar

1/4 t baking soda

1 t baking powder

1 t cinnamon

2 eggs

1 t vanilla

1 Cup whole wheat flour

3/4 Cup unbleached all-purpose flour

2 Cups oats

1/3 Cup flax seeds

1/2 Cup raisins

The results: a little dry and not very sweet. I thought the pumpkin flavor would have been stronger, but it was pretty unnoticeable. I think I actually needed a little salt to make all the flavors "wake up." I made half a batch w/o the raisins and flax, and the half with the addition was much better than the half w/o.

I have heard that coconut oil would be a good substitute for the butter and that using a portion of tapioca flour instead of so much whole wheat flour would lighten them up.

So go ahead friends. Give it your best shot and let me know what you come up with. Better yet, bring them over for a chat and let me try them in person! You know I love a good visitor!

I also love the Biggest Loser, so I'm off to start my tivoed episode and cry over how good all the players look.

If I Eat This, What Am I?

I made a solo trip to Trader Joe's last night and enjoyed every minute of it!

Here's what we're having for dinner this week:

Last night: 

Wheat Pitas stuffed with seasoned lamb, feta, lettuce and homemade tzatzkiki sauce.  Basically a gyro.  I've never made lamb before, but TJ's had a pre-seasoned rack that you just stick in the oven and ta da, you have lamb.  I don't recommend it though.  The flavor was good, but it was very fatty and once I cut away the fat and bones there wasn't much left in the way of meat.

The rest of the week:

Salmon with rice and baby broccoli. I'm... oops, I almost let something slip that I shouldn't.  Talk to me tomorrow and I can tell.

Orange Chicken.  This one is "Andy's." If I have it in the fridge, with some of TJ's microwave rice (which I think is ingenious) then I can ask him to make dinner. He can follow directions with the best of 'em, but anything beyond that kind of freaks him out. We're only two years into the plan after all. 

Shrimp with whole wheat pasta and a creamy garlic sauce and green beans.  I've never cooked shrimp before either, but someone told me TJ's frozen shrimp were great, so I thought I would give it a try.  I guess I was feeling adventurous last night. 

Sweet basil chicken sausage with pasta and red sauce and a caesar salad with freshly slivered parmesan cheese.  I like having fast and easy meal makings so that when I'm feeling lazy I can just boil the pasta and toss everything together.  

Grilled chicken and roasted potatoes with sugar snap peas.  We'll see if I can get Andy to eat the peas in their pods.  Any bets?

I also have a few other standbys on hand in case of a culinary emergency:

Chili and nachos

Open faced tuna sandwiches

Clam chowder

Freezer pasta meal

Breakfast (we go through eggs like nobody's business)

It looks like it will be a good week of eating.  I just hope I actually get around to making all of these things.  That seems to be the problem.  I stock up, only to find that a third of it goes right to my garbage can once it is past pull.  

Sigh.

I'll keep you posted.  Especially about the shrimp.  I'm intimidated by those grey little guys.  

I Can Do That

I made them.

They are good.

I won't make them again.

It took ALL DAY.  As in EIGHT-PLUS hours.

I'm still tired from it.

BUT, I feel very proud for having accomplished it.  Especially considering my track record with other baked goods.

I'm also feeling smug for being in the midst of a two-baby day (meaning that I have Dane all day, which is A LOT of work) and having gotten in a shower and now stealing a moment to brag about my accomplishment.  I ROCK!  

Also,

I had a mini-realization this morning in the shower.  My life as a mom is not glamourous.  Before 9:00 this morning I had already been spit on, peed on, had slimy banana in my arm hair, changed a poopy diaper, been pinched, and done a ridiculous dance to please a 17 and 8 month old.

The fact that motherhood is not glamourous was not the revelation.  It was the fact that I expected it to be.  

A lightbulb went on for me.  

So much of my discouragement, frustration, sadness or anger comes from unmet expectations. Many, many times I don't even realize that I hold those conceptions of what my life will, or should, be like.  Once I see them, then I can work on adjusting to a more realistic appreciation for what my life is, rather than what it might be. 

I aspire to glamour.  In my hair, my fashion choices, in my home, in the way people perceive me.  But it is just another endless chase.  

A few entries ago I mentioned a sort of fantasy book series that I had enjoyed.  The tales blend fairy-folk and other mythical creatures into the world as we know it (cheesy, I know, but guys, I love that kind of stuff).  The author describes the fae as "wearing their glamour."  The idea is that they don't want people to see what they really look like, so the create an image to portray to the world.  

That is what I use glamour for too.  I want to hid behind an image that says "I've got it together."  But sometimes, I just don't. Okay, sometimes I DO have it together, but I've already done my bragging for this entry... 

I want to use glamour to hide fatigue, discouragement, indecision, boredom, and a myriad of other hard emotions that seem taboo.

What I want more, NEED more, than glamour is satisfaction.  Fruitfulness in the things that bless God's heart: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control.  

So instead of lamenting the fact that my life is messy, figuratively and literally, why not delight in the sweetness of what it is right now?  Today.  

Well, my time is up.  Messy babies are calling me to pull them from cribs and feed them and pour love into their day.  I can do that.  I can do it gracefully and honestly.  I can do that with no pretense and no need for a show.  And I will.

Here I come babies.  It is going to be a lovely day.

Five-year Plan

I want these.

Jack's latest antics:

• At this very moment he is rolling and chasing a foam soccer ball all over the dining room floor and sort of singing to himself.  I love watching him play!

• Yesterday while I was feeding him lunch (little pieces of leftover dinner, because he's so grown up and can feed himself) he picked up a piece of chicken and held out his hand to me.  It took me a second to connect the movement to the intent, but he was offering me his food!  Awww!  Thanks baby!  So now I am in that "pretend eating" phase.  That's right, I'll be the mom making exaggerated chewing faces and swallowing noises for the next few months. 
  

• When I'm bustling about the house, especially when I'm making dinner, I still have a little shadow.  It is so, so endearing!  It makes it a little hard to move though, because if I stand still for too long Jack climbs right up my legs and stands that way, gripping my pants.  His balance is precarious enough that if I move too quickly, down he goes.  So I stand motionless or do a VERY slow motion shuffle across the kitchen floor.  But mostly I just laugh and then carry him back into the living room so that I have about three minutes to stir, taste, plate, before he is back, clinging to my leg.  
  

Perhaps it is an indicator that Jack will be more proficient in the kitchen than his father.  

For the sake of my future daughter-in-law, I sure hope so.

Although, GUYS, Andy made me dinner last week! It is true!  And, I think with a some slightly modified grocery purchases, he is willing to make dinner once a week.  I cannot even tell you what a giant leap this is for all of Aicheledom!  

I used to joke that I had a five-year plan to get Andy in the kitchen.  (His joke has always been that he married me for the food - It's only a joke people!)

The first phase of my plan was to send Andy on little grocery runs, all by himself.  For nothing too crazy, but things not found in the Hamburger Helper isle.  Maybe some garlic.  Maybe some olive oil.  Maybe some pimento peppers.  

An example of items on the list I give him looks like this:  Fresh basil - it is in the produce section, in the refrigerator case, on the top left hand side, in a little plastic box type thing, it should be 2.99.  Avocado - not rock hard, not too squishy, it should just give a little when you squeeze it.  

One time he OFFERED to get my whole list (double digit items people!).  I re-wrote the list in order of how he would find it in the store, isle by isle.

You may think I'm over the top, but the point is for him to feel like HE CAN DO IT!  Make it easy.  Make it not a chore.  

This was the first step.

Truthfully, I didn't know what would come after that.  But I thought, hey, five years is a good amount of time, I'll come up with something.

The next step ended up being Eggs Benedict.  Almost every Sunday morning we sleep in, get up and make coffee and toddle around for an hour or so, and then I make Eggs Benedict.  It is not a good thing to eat if you are watching your calories, or worried about cholesterol, but if you want to make your taste buds happy, give it a try.   

Anyhow, Andy KNOWS how happy it makes me to cook with people, especially him, so one morning he volunteered to help.  SERIOUSLY!?  YES YOU CAN HELP!  Be still my beating heart!

His big thing is he says he's not creative, he needs rules, instructions.  Well, the part of our brunch that has instructions is the sauce.  It is just a packet of sauce mix to which you add milk and butter and stir.  

So now, Andy squishes in the kitchen with me to man the sauce.  I love it.  I am grinning ear to ear just thinking about it.  

So I guess sauce mix was stage two.  

Thanks to Trader Joe's, we now are in stage three (I have no idea how many stages it will take to be cooking buddies, but I am now VERY optimistic that it will happen in my lifetime).  TJ's has very yummy frozen food.  In particular, I am thankful for the Orange Chicken and the microwave rice.  Andy has made this twice now, very successfully (I did sneak into the kitchen and add some broccoli, but veggies are a few steps away I think, so I'm okay with that).

I wish you could know the multitude of emotions that swell in my heart as he brings me a plate of food that I didn't have to lift a finger to prepare.  Gratitude, adoration, pride, victory, burning desire (after all, it has to be worth his while, no?).

Ah. Happy sigh.

The fine and tender nuances of married life.  

Andy, thanks for being willing to try something that you think you'll (and probably do) hate, just to make me happy. I appreciate you, and your efforts, very, VERY much.

Muah!

For those of you not in the know, 

that is a kiss noise.  

Like a highfalutin pair of ladies 

holding each other on the shoulders, 

with pinkies up 

and leaving an air kiss on each cheek. 

 "Muah, muah.  How aaaree you daaahhling?"

In our case it simply means,

"If you were here right now I would kiss you!"

Feel free to borrow it for all of your lovey-dovey needs.

To Save My Life

I'm okay with admitting that there are lots of things I do well.  

If it came down to a life or death situation I could paint a pretty awesome jungle mural or whip up some delectable crab wontons.  I could style a bride's hair, give a french manicure or a healing head massage.  I could probably even make a life-like bouquet of tissue paper flowers.  (If you are trying to think of a situation where any of these skills could save a life, stop trying.  It could happen, just go with it.)

But if threatened with the end of my life, no matter how hard I tried, there just seems to be no way for me to produce eatable cookies.  

I just threw away a whole batch of rosemary shortbread dough.  Shortbread.  How hard is that?  I printed off a fail-proof recipe from the internet and set about mixing it all up.  I didn't start my project until late last night and the dough had to refrigerate for an hour.  I was pretty tired so I thought, "Emily you are so brilliant!  Jut make the dough tonight and bake them tomorrow.  An hour, 10 hours, what's the difference?"  Apparently there is a big difference because when I pealed back the lid of my storage container this morning, the whole thing was sour. 

Gross!  

And pathetic. 

I've thrown away more batches of failed cookie attempts than I care to admit.  Even Andy, who is quick to praise almost everything that comes from my kitchen, shakes his head at my baking.  Each time I watch the pathetic lumps of baked dough drop into the garbage can I think, "I've learned my lesson.  I won't even bother any more.  I'll just admit defeat."  But then the random cookie craving hits, or my need to produce something, and what do you know, I'm back in the kitchen studying the cookbook and promising to follow the recipe EXACTLY this time.  

That is my problem.  Baking allows for no creativity.  Too much of one thing or too little of another and it doesn't work out.  I prefer to just throw together ingredients that I think will combine nicely.  Just wing it.  That doesn't work in the cookie world though.  Too bad.  

So once again I have wasted perfectly good butter, sugar and flour and have nothing delicious to show for it.  Now you know my short coming.  Cookies.  Don't ask me to make them for you.  I can't do it.  I really admit defeat this time.  

Really.