Monthly Archives: April 2012

Monday Meals: Church food

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When you grow up a Southern Baptist in Texas, you grow up with a love for Jesus, sweaty preachers and casserole dishes.

We moved up north a bit, so the preacher is quite a bit calmer, but Jesus and the casserole dishes are sure the same.

I’ve been serving meals at our church for about a year now, and I’ve seen all manner of food prepared and eaten there. Once, I had to make a pizza casserole, and I was a bit nervous because the recipe called for half a bottle of Italian dressing to be dumped in there with the pasta and pepperoni. (People ate it. Nobody died.)

From this group of Midwestern Christian folk, I’ve learned not just that there are other dressings besides Ranch, but that peanut butter balls are called “Buckeyes” and sometimes, cake is so good you can eat it off the floor.

This last week was my final week on the food service team, and I thought I’d serve up a little taste of home. I made a double Texas Sheet Cake (which everyone kept calling brownies, sheesh) and a Chili-Mac Casserole – homemade Hamburger Helper for those of you used to eating stuff out of a box.

Hamburger Helper always makes me think of my friend Rach’s husband, who seems obsessed with the stuff. He’s usually out of luck, cause she won’t serve it in her kitchen, and I can’t blame her. But here’s a recipe for a made-from-scratch version that is hearty and tastes great. (I’m not even kidding. We had the leftovers for dinner two nights in a row and no one complained. At all.)

The cake? Well, don’t make it unless you’ve got company coming, or you’ll eat the whole thing yourself. You’ll go cake crazy, like my little one who keeps running into the kitchen yelling, “CAKE. CAKECAKECAKEYCAKE.” Or you’ll make yourself sick, like a guest I had once who, while the rest of us were in the living room chatting, sat in the kitchen and devoured about half a pan.

 

 

Chili Mac Casserole
(adapted from allrecipies.com)

1 (16 oz) package elbow macaroni
2 pounds lean ground beef
1 small onion, diced
1 (15 oz) can tomato sauce
1 (14.5 oz) can Rotel
1 can sweet corn, drained
1 (15 oz) can light red kidney beans, rinsed and drained
1 envelope taco seasoning mix
1 envelope chili seasoning mix
1 can condensed cheddar cheese soup
¾ cup milk
2 cups shredded cheddar cheese, divided
1/2 cup sour cream
1 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 cup crushed tortilla chips (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, if you’re going to serve this right away. If you’re making it ahead of time, clear out a BIG space in your fridge or freezer. No, bigger. BIGGER.

In a large skillet over medium heat, brown the ground meat and drain the excess grease. Mix in the tomato sauce, diced tomatoes, corn, kidney beans, taco seasoning, and chili seasoning. Then bring it to a boil, reduce heat to a simmer, and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 20 minutes.

While it’s simmering, cook the macaroni, drain in a colander and set aside.

Whisk the soup and milk in a small saucepan and bring to a simmer over low heat. Add in half the shredded cheese, the sour cream, garlic powder, salt and pepper.

Arrange the cooked macaroni into the bottom of a 10×15-inch baking dish, and mix with the soup mixture. Pour the ground beef chili over the macaroni, and sprinkle with the rest of the cheddar cheese and, if you like them and you’re cooking it right then, the crushed tortilla chips.

Bake in the preheated oven until the casserole is hot and bubbling and the cheese topping has melted, 20 to 30 minutes. Serve topped with dollops of sour cream.

*If you’re making this ahead of time, take it out to defrost in the fridge the day before you want to cook it. Then, set it on the counter for 20 minutes while the oven heats.

 

 

Texas Sheet Cake

2 cups flour
2 cups sugar
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup sour cream
2 eggs
1 cup butter (Yeah, you read that right.)
1 cup water
5 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder

Icing
6 tablespoons milk
5 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 cup butter
3 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract (Or bourbon, if you’re not Baptist. Or if you are Baptist but appreciate some of the finer libations available on this earth.)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Taste the bourbon to make sure it’s good. Grease and flour a 10×15 inch (jelly roll) pan.

Combine the flour, sugar, baking soda and salt. Beat in the sour cream and eggs. Set aside.

Melt the butter on low in a saucepan, add the water and 5 tablespoons cocoa. Bring mixture to a boil then remove from heat. Allow to cool slightly, then stir cocoa mixture into the egg mixture, mixing until blended.

Pour batter into prepared pan. It’s gonna be really runny. Don’t freak out.

Bake in the preheated oven for 20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. For the love of Deuteronomy, don’t over bake this thing. It needs to be m…m…moi…that word I can’t say but means wet and gooey.

For the icing: In a large saucepan, combine the milk, cocoa and butter. Bring to a boil, then remove from heat. Stir in the confectioners’ sugar and vanilla, mixing until blended. Spread the frosting over warm cake.

Keep the cake covered until you’re ready to serve it so it melts in mouths appropriately and doesn’t dry out.

Dear Scrumplet

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My friend Alison is waiting right now with baited breath for her second son “Scrumplet” to arrive. If I remember correctly, these last few weeks have been full of sleepless nights, irrational (and rational) fears and it’s probably impossible for her to get comfortable unless she’s suspended in water.

Since Alison lives in Malaysia, the Interwebz – named Stasha, Ado and Erica – are throwing her a virtual baby shower.

You’re totally invited, by the way. Write a post with your favorite baby photo, tell everyone why you love it and then include your favorite quote about motherhood. Or, guess Scrumplet’s birthday, length and weight. OR share a gift from Pinterest that you’d give Alison.

Or, you know, do all three. Like this.

Dear Scrumplet,

Your mama is a pretty tough chick. She’s nervous right now, so I’d appreciate it if you’d cooperate and arrive on May 7 before lunch, and weigh a perfect 3.3 kg and be 49.5 cm long.

If I could afford the shipping, I’d send this to your mama to have waiting for you both. ‘Cause she does, and I’m sure you will be. After all, over the last year I’ve watched your big brother turn from a baby to a boy right along with my little guy.

Your Mama calls your brother Monkey, just like I call my son.

This is him when he was a few months old. It’s one of my favorite pictures because his hair is hilarious, his eyes are so blue, his dimples are on display and his nose is tinted just the tiniest bit orange because he wouldn’t eat anything but sweet potatoes and carrots.

My Monkey is a handful. He is smart and ornery and mischievous. He is busy and intense and hilarious. When he gets into trouble, I have to put him in time out and step out of the room so he doesn’t see me laughing. I’m not sure how I will hide this laughter from him when he gets older, only I know I have to so he doesn’t grow up to be a brat.

I’m sure your mama understands what I mean, and I bet she’s probably familiar with this quote:

“My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it.”
— Mark Twain

Get here soon, Scrumplet. Safely, please, and go easy on your mama. We’re pretty fond of her.

Mamamash

Monday Meals: Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies

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So, we eat a lot of these. And by “a lot” I mean several bags a week. And be “we” I mean me.

I thought it would be fun the other night to make my own in the hopes that maybe by taking so much time to craft them I’d be less likely to inhale them.

Not so much. These cookies lasted 18 hours in our house. Maybe you have more willpower?

 

 

Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies

1/2 cup butter-flavored shortening
1 cup creamy peanut butter
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups flour

Filling:

1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
1/2 cup powdered sugar

Make the filling first. Combine the peanut butter and sugar and refrigerate until somewhat firm.

 

 

For the cookies, combine the flour, baking soda and salt in a bowl and set aside. Next, cream together the shortening, peanut butter, sugars, egg and vanilla.

 

 

Gradually add in the flour mixture on low speed. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and chill the dough for about 20 minutes, then roll it onto waxed paper.

 

 

Cut out identical shapes using a cookie cutter. Or, if you’re utensil challenged such as myself, a measuring cup works great. Bake the cookies for about 8 minutes or until they begin to brown on the edges. They won’t spread, so you can fit them in closely.

Cool the cookies on a plate or wire rack, then spread a tablespoon of filling on half the cookies and top with the other half. Hide them from your husband and toddler. Sneak downstairs at 2 am and enjoy with a glass of cold milk.

Why don’t you just go fly a kite

Posted in #BloomWhereYourePlanted, Monkey by

I have a love/hate relationship with Kansas City, my home since winter of 2008.

The weather is insane, hate. The crime rate is really high, hate. The sports teams are ALLCAPSAWFUL, hate.

But the BBQ is heavenly, love. The highways make it a dream to get around, love. And there is so much to do here.

LOVE.

This morning we woke up with no direction. We ate breakfast, sat around in our pajamas with SportsCenter on (I’ve been brainwashed) and watched the late morning sun shake off the chill of last night.

Normally I’m happy to do this, but today I wanted to go GO GO. And of course, so did Monkey. He’ll even tell you, “Shoes, Mama. Go. Go car. VRRRROOOM.”

So after a quick Google search of events in our area, we headed out to the 2012 Flights of Fancy Kite Festival. I wasn’t sure what to expect since I’d never even heard of this thing before, but that’s kind of the beauty of living in a “newish” place – there’s always something new to discover.

When we pulled up next to MCC-Longview, the sky was a sharp blue and the breeze barely tickled the tops of the trees. Parking was easy enough to find with only a short walk to the festival field.

Monkey had fallen asleep during the drive so when we got him out of the truck he put on his best grump face, crossed his arms and slumped in the stroller. But as soon as we made it around the bend, he saw this and perked right up.

There are certain days in spring where living feels like Heaven on Earth, and this was one of them. The breeze picked up. The savory smells from the food trucks intermingled with the sweet scent of the freshly-mown grass. Strains of rock music provided a beat for the announcer as she told us all about the different kites in the sky.

People are serious about kites, it seems. They have a club, y’all.

One guy had several kites that he would rotate through. Some of them were fast and capable of quick, twisting maneuvers, like this one. Others were large and capable of pulling some weight and he would have to throw himself backward onto the ground to keep from being pulled aloft.

While many, many people brought their own kites, we were just happy to stand and observe, to be a part of the landscape and to witness such a perfect day as this.

Today was love.

Maybe it’s time

Posted in Embarrassing photos, How was YOUR day?, I'm Still Learning, Monkey, Parenting by

Maybe it’s not.

The Internet, the library and probably your mom are full of advice when it comes to potty training.

“There is no right age.”

“You were potty trained when you were 18 months old.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s going to Kindergarten in diapers.”

Over the last month, I’ve read testimonials about “The Naked Weekend.” I’ve seen warning posts by pediatric urologists about training too early. I’ve listened to moms of many children say that it’s better to start earlier than late.

I’ve taken it all into account, and my family – Mama, Dada and the Monkey – well, we decided it might be time.

Monkey knows the words.

“Mama, poo poo.”

“I tee. Tee, Mama.”

“Potty! Elmo potty! I potty!”

He’s finally learned what to call certain body parts.

“Peeeeeneees. I peeenneeeees.”

And of course, he loves to flush. (Bye, toilet paper! Bye Cheerio I was saving for later!)

So we ditched the diapers. We bought a potty with a better splash guard than the one our Pop built us. (It’s gorgeous, Pop, but the kiddo is too chubby in the bottom to fit just right.) We picked up some ridiculously cute underwear.

And we set out to try that naked weekend.

 

First up, we had to get Monkey used to the new potty. So we sat and played on the iPad, we ate lots of Goldfish and we sang songs.

Cool, sitting on the potty is cool.

We had already been talking about how the tee tee and the poo poo, they go IN the potty. We’ve modeled the behavior. (I peed in front of someone on purpose. This is what parenthood does to you.) We were ready for this.

Dudes, you are never ready for this.

You are never ready to watch your kid begin to squeeze one out over in the corner and see yourself rush, faster than you ever thought possible, to get him on the potty.

You are never ready to clean pee off the curtains. Twice. In one day.

And you’re never ready for how freaking excited you are when your kid makes his way over to the potty by himself, squats, and drops a deuce.

He’s sitting there, strangely relieved, wondering how this wiping thing is going to work and you’re doing the Jerry Maguire “Show Me The Money” dance on the couch.

He’s up and quietly picking through the building blocks next to the potty and you’re contemplating photographing the evidence of his triumph to send to your husband at the baseball game so he can share in the moment. (Yeah. I did.)

And then it hits you…you have to dispose of the turd. You can’t just wrap it up in the diaper and toss it in the trash. What if you try to dump it in the toilet and miss?

Thankfully, everything was disposed of properly and completely sanitized in time for round two: The tee. The tee has to go in the potty too.

There was much frustration in this department because my kid? He wants to tee standing up. Of course he does, that’s how Dada does it.

So what do I do? Ask Dada to tee sitting down? Psh, like that’s gonna happen.

Anyway, the last few days have mainly been comprised of me herding my son and his junk toward the potty several times a day, celebrating when the tee makes it into the potty and grumbling silently to myself when I have to soak it up out of the carpet instead.

He’s still bottomless most of the day and wears a pull up during sleep time, but every now and then, when the danger of leakage has subsided, he gets to wear his Big Boy Pants.

I think we’ve got lots of work to do until he’s completely ready to venture out in his Manly Drawers, but I tell you what – Mama is definitely trained now.

 

Monday Meals: Grilled Pork Skewers

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While I was in Texas a couple of weeks ago, I took my nephews to the South Texas State Fair. We got there in time for opening ceremonies, where I patiently waited through all the hoopla to not only get in free, but to gorge myself on the most awesome of fair foods: The Pork Kabob.

They don’t mess with veggies on these kabobs – it’s just a giant skewer full of marinated, slightly charred meat.

The boys spent their entire evening riding ridiculous things like this, while I kept my feet planted safely on the ground and periodically gnawed my way through my dinner on a stick.

When I got back to Kansas City, I made my way directly to the grocery store where I picked up several packages of country-style pork ribs. This cut of meat is can be found boneless, but does have a considerable amount of fat and connective tissue, so a little at-home carving is necessary before cooking.

But worth it. So worth it.

I couldn’t find anyone online willing to give up the marinade secret for fair kabobs, so I took inspiration from here for the basic idea and ended up with some tender, juicy kabobs that we polished off with much gusto. (And ok, I did throw in some vegetables to make it a proper meal. But they never, not once, came in contact with the meat.)

Grilled Pork Skewers

2 lbs boneless country-style pork ribs
1/2 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup rice wine vinegar
1/4 cup lemon juice
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 tbsp garlic powder (or minced fresh garlic if you have it)
1 tsp white pepper
Two splashes of Sriracha, if you like heat

Trim the meat and cut into chunks. Mix ingredients in a large plastic or glass bowl. Marinate the meat overnight, or at least 4 hours.

Drain the marinade into a squeeze bottle, then slide the chunks of meat onto the skewers. (Be sure they are pre-soaked if you’re using wood.)

Grill the skewers over low heat for about 30 minutes, or until the internal temperature reaches 160 degrees, basting the meat with the leftover marinade occasionally. Low and slow is key when cooking pork, otherwise you end up with shoe leather.

I smile because you’re my sister. I laugh because there’s nothing you can do about it.

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When I saw Mama Kat’s list of prompts in my inbox this week, I was immediately drawn to this one:

“Ask a sibling or close friend to guest post on your blog for a day. Have them share a story about you that we might not have heard before.”

I’ve never hosted a guest blogger, mostly because I blog by the seat of my pants and am terrible at planning and scheduling. But I knew I had to ask a special person to share a few childhood stories with you.

That person is my little sister. She’s three years younger than me, and I was not thrilled when she arrived on this earth. She wasn’t particularly taken with me either, and we spent the 14 or so years we lived under the same roof alternating between brutal battles and shaky truces.

We were just so different.

As adults, we’ve come to accept and even embrace our differences. I know that I can trust her and rely on her to do things I cannot. I appreciate the effort she puts into our relationship, like when she drove overnight 736 miles with an infant of her own, just to meet my son, who, in a hilarious twist of fate, looks just like her.

My sister is smart, witty and she tells it like it is. Cindi, thanks for taking time out of your hectic evening to tattle on me to the Internet. I’m glad we have each other.

*****

Growing up with a sister you’re going to have the usual fights. But when you grow up with my sister, it’s not a “usual” fight.

Looking back now I can laugh, because she was creative when she decided to get back at me. A few stick out as my favorites.

There’s the time when I was in first grade and woke up from a nap to discover she had tied me to the bed with a jump rope. She wouldn’t untie me until my mom was driving up at home.

Then there’s the time she got mad at me for messing with her stuff and rearranged my whole room while I was over at a friend’s house.

But the best one and the one we both laugh about was when she wrote “BOO” on the bathroom mirror in hairspray so when I got out of the shower the fog made the word appear. I remember screaming and running out of the bathroom. Boy, was I mad.

My sister is not someone you want to cross. But later in life she has gone to bat for me several times. She’s always helped with my kids and been the most awesome aunt ever! She’s always there to let me “vent” when I’m mad. And she has become quite good at calming me down when I’m on a tear. So I have to say she has more than made up for being mean to me as a kid.

*****
As an added bonus, here’s a letter my sister wrote to me when we were teenagers. My mom kept it in my baby book, and I’m so glad she did.

Mama’s Losin’ It

I’ll take all of it

Posted in How was YOUR day? by

One of my favorite things about our house is its location. We are right off of the major loop around the city, so we can go anywhere in a reasonable amount of time, but we’re also nestled in next to a little township.

This makes it easy to do daily things like go to the library, visit the park, and make frequent trips to the drugstore for important items. You know – beer, diapers and tampons.

Today necessitated one of those zip trips and so, armful of books approaching their due date, two Redbox movies and a spousal request for “Arnold Palmer,” I headed down the street.

I said a silent prayer before I stepped through the drugstore door that the odd guy who normally works the checkstand wasn’t scheduled, because I needed some feminine products and he has a tendency to make strange comments about my purchases.

He’s also known for farting during transactions, rolling his eyes violently when we ask questions and being really pushy with the “Item of the Day” that the store requires its employees to upsell.

It appeared my prayer had been answered and I would be spared an awkward moment and so I waved hello in relief to the middle aged woman with the blonde ponytail and purple-rimmed glasses who stood behind the register.

I picked out a pink economy-sized box of my preferred product and headed to the drink aisle to fulfill hubs’ request, then I lugged my purchases to the front of the store where I was greeted with a droll smile by the checker.

She scanned my iced tea. She placed it on the other counter. Then she reached for the massive box of tampons, peered knowingly over the rims of those really purple glasses at me and deadpanned, “Lucky you. We have a special on these M&Ms today. How many bags will you be needing this evening?”