Sick, Sick, Sick!

Greetings from the Sick Ward!

I have been playing nurse to three sad little sick kidlets. Littlest Man has been hit hardest--an ear infection and a case of H1N1. Little Man has had a cough and low fever. Little Miss Pink has the croup. Thankfully, God is watching over her and kept her from getting the H1N1. It's a miracle, given the fact that they steal each other's cups and she puts everything in her mouth!

The Dad and Mom are sick, too, but not terribly bad. I am way behind on everything and digging out. Excuse the absence...we are on the mend. I hope to be back in action soon!

Image Courtesy A.Reueda

Mom Rant

You are Super Mom.

(this super photo is by Olivia Wagner , btw)

Uh oh. I'm getting out my soap box.

I just wanted to say that being a mom is a heckuva tough job. Moms never really get to call in sick. We never get to go "off duty." We don't get credit when credit is due in many cases. It is a hard job.

And I think we're too hard on ourselves, which is silly because everyone else is already very hard on us!

Let's just stop that nonsense, umkay?

Don't chastise yourself for not making homemade costumes, or for buying the rotisserie chicken at Costco. Don't feel badly because you didn't run to be the first mom helping at the preschool today (or the germ factory, as I prefer to call it). Don't criticize yourself for turning on Veggie Tales just so you could check your email and get a Diet Coke.

Let's agree together that, whatever we do as moms, we are doing our very best. There is a gene that passes to you the moment you hold your baby that makes you give your all no matter what when it comes to your kids, even if you don't realize you're giving your all. So know that your best effort is good enough. Your husband thinks you're amazing (even if he forgets to tell you). Your baby or babies believe the world revolves around you. And you are hot! Even if you're up to your elbows in someone else's snot. You are a mama. And a damn good one.

Excuse the profanity, please. But sometimes we need to be reminded of these things. I'm probably the first one to ignore all of this advice I'm spewing. But I wanted to tell you.

I think you're an awesome_______ (fill in the blank: cook, seamstress, singer, card shuffler, organizer, label maker, decorator, shopper, friend, thawer of meat, avoider of laundry). Tell yourself, too. Tell your best friend, while you're at it.

Being a mom is no easy feat. But you're doing a great job. One day at a time. And your hard work is paying off. Look at those kids. They're incredible. And, yes, that's a result of God's blessings, your hubby, and Y.O.U. Take credit when credit is due. You rock.

The end.

Pumpkin Crème Brûlée

Or, "Fun with a Blow Torch!"

I have a sad, maddening egg intolerance. I used to be able to eat eggs galore: scrambled, sunny side up, quiche, you name it. Then, after my first pregnancy, I was unable to eat eggs. They gave me a weird heartburn/discomfort. And with each subsequent pregnancy, it got worse. Now, hard boiled eggs in potato salad actually make me ill and, most tragically, I can barely tolerate custard type desserts, like pumpkin pie. SO tragic. I should probably go to the allergist or doctor, but who has time for that? 

Why, then, would I make crème brûlée? It is a highly egg-y dessert? Well, two reasons: 1. I've never made it before and always, always wanted to. 2. My favorite Irish fellow LOVES creme brulee. We were having some dear friends over for dessert, so I knew they'd enjoy it as much as I'd enjoy making it. And making it really is half the fun, anyhow.

I found the recipe here at this amazing blog, Whisk. How have I not seen this blog before? I'm ashamed to admit it! It seems to feature some AMAZING recipes, tips, and all around culinary goodness. I will leave the expert to the detailing of the recipe. I just want to share some tips that I discovered along the way making my first crème brûlée (a rhyme!).

This recipe for Pumpkin Crème Brûlée calls for a yummy caramel base in the bottom of the ramekin. Kind of a cross between  Crème Caramel (or is it Coeur de Crème?)and Crème Brûlée. I am notoriously bad at making caramel. I have failed more times than I have succeeded. And let me say, that a caramel burn is infinitely worse than a hot glue gun burn! For sure.

I decided though, that I wasn't going to let this caramel intimidate me. I mean, it was sugar, water, and a bit of lemon juice! C'mon! I think the key is patience. Once the sugar water comes to a boil, it takes a few minutes of a rapid, undisturbed boil to render the sugar water into caramel.

This shot was taken at 11:42am. The mixture is just at a rapid boil. The photo shows a bit of caramel color to it, but to the naked eye, it was clear.

This shot was taken one minute later. A tiny bit of caramel color was visible.

11:44am. Now we're getting there. I didn't touch it, shake it, stir it. Just left it be.

11:45 am

Literally, two seconds later, still 11:45am. I think it got a teensy bit too dark in color, but was still good--just a bit rich and dark, like French caramel.

Or what I hear french caramel is like since I've never been to France.

Next and very carefully, I poured the caramel into the ramekins. Please don't laugh at my heart shaped ramekins. They're all I have. I am asking Santa for new ramekins, serious white ramekins.

 

I swirled it around a bit and it was already starting to harden, further proof that I'd probably over cooked the caramel by 30 seconds.

Heart shaped ramekins aside, the caramel looked so lovely in the bottom and I imagined that it would give the dessert a nice depth of flavor. My guests and hubby said it did; I only had one tiny bite and almost had to excuse myself.

With the caramel tackled (yeah, me!), I started on the custard. How can you go wrong with heavy whipping cream, whole milk, vanilla, pumpkin, eggs and spices? Not at all!

I used a mix of farm fresh eggs and regular old eggs from the grocery store. The recipe called for 3 eggs and two egg yolks, which I got to work separating using this handy dandy Tupperware product. I do usually use the egg shell itself for separating, but I was feeling...you guessed it....lazy.

Once the eggs are separated, they get whisked with some sugar to make the base of the custard. I love whisking. It is a good way to vent frustration and makes me feel so very Julia Child.

As I mentioned before, I never made Crème Brûlée before. I guess I was very intimidated by it. Once I jumped into making this recipe, I realized how unfounded my fears were. Crème Brûlée is very easy and basic, made with simple ingredients. I'm excited to try a plain, even more basic version of it soon. The custard is based on eggs, sugar and lovely heavy cream:

Little Man likes to smell everything. He has the most keen sense of smell I've ever encountered.

He was bummed the heavy cream didn't have much of a smell.

Being Pumpkin Crème Brûlée, this recipe also called for canned pumpkin, though if you have your own pumpkins, I'm sure you could substitute the "real deal."

 

I heated the heavy cream, milk and vanilla over the stove until it came to a low boil, then mixed it into my custard base, whisking constantly. The constant mixing is necessary to temper the eggs, instead of making them into scrambled eggs. Once that was done, I followed the instructions and let the mixture rest, then strained it.

Once the straining was done, I poured the mixture into the ramekins, which were in a glass baking dish. Then, I poured boiling water about 2/3rds of the way up the sides in the baking dish. I think this makes for even baking. But I'm totally guessing.

Then, into the oven they went.

The recipe online said it should only take 25-30 minutes until a knife comes out clean in the center. Mine took more like 40-45 minutes. I checked often.

This is what the lovelies looked like after their stay in the oven:

But now, for the real fun! The blow torch. I don't own a kitchen torch, but my husband has a blow torch he was more than happy to let me use.

I sprinkled the tops with sugar---too much at first. I had to dump some excess off. The recipe calls for 4 TB for 6 ramekins. I had 5 ramekins and 3 TB. was too much sugar. It's really more of a dusting of sugar. I poured some on then shook and tapped off the excess. 

With that done, the best part! Since brûlée means "burnt" in French, that's what I did next. Burn, or caramelize the sugar on top to make the crispy top that, in my opinion, is the coolest part of the dessert. The combination of textures is just divine.

Here are some "action" shots my hubby got while I was at work with the blow torch:

 

 

Tada! So there you have it! The recipe was really not complicated or difficult at all. And the results were (I'm told) delicious. I can't believe I've never tried making such a classic dessert before. It was well worth the effort!

For the complete instructions and recipe, go to Whisk. I hope you try it soon!

Acorn Squash

Oh, Acorn Squash. Where have you been all my life? I know I've loved your cousin, Butternut, for many years. But you, oh, you! You're peppery and sweet, fragrant and tasty! And so easy to prepare. I am thinking up all kinds of meals that can feature you, you delicious fall fruit, you!

Okay. Enough of the musings on Acorn Squash. I just couldn't help myself.

I hope you will trot on out and pick up some Acorn Squash today. It is so good, an excellent accompaniment to pork (which I had it with---baked pork chops that had been brined in a cider brine and were glazed with a cider balsamic sauce), chicken, or even on its own stuffed with sausage, wild rice and other veggies. Yum!

Here is how I prepared the acorn squash the other day, with great success:

Start by cutting the squash in two after it has been cleaned on the outside (you don't want to bring any germs or dirt inside when you slice it through).  Ooh! Don't forget to preheat your oven to 400 degrees.

Then, scoop out the "innards" of the squash---all the seeds and membranes---using a spoon.

Now, set the squash halves in a muffin tin. See how well the muffin tin holds them? I'm a clever little monkey, no?!?

In a small bowl, mix together 1-2 tablespoons of softened butter, 2-3 TB of brown sugar, and 1 or 2 TB of maple syrup. Add to that a pinch of kosher salt and a few cranks of freshly ground pepper to taste.

Now slather that magic butter on the insides of the squash.

Bake at 400 degrees for 45 minutes to 1 hour.

And then, eat the squashy deliciousness right out of the squash halves. Mix in the buttery syrupy sugary puddle and serve in a separate dish. You'll love it!

Acorn Squash
Serves 1-4 people, depending on who they are and how much good sense they possess.

1 acorn squash, washed and halved
2 TB. softened unsalted butter
2-3 TB. brown sugar, packed
1-2 TB. maple syrup (not Mrs. Butterworth's...the real deal only!)
kosher salt and fresh cracked pepper, to taste

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Scoop out the insides of squash halves, including all seeds and membranes. Place squash halves in a muffin tin to stabilize for baking. In a small bowl, mix together remaining ingredients. Slather on the insides of the squash halves. Bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour in a 400 degree oven until tender. Serve as squash halves, or scoop out insides and mash gently to serve. Enjoy!

All about "Us"

Olivia Wagner Photography

So fun! I have been tagged by Monkey's Mama at Monkeys on the Bed (she's the supermama crafter, cook, photographer, inspirational sister in Christ and fellow KKG sister from my college days...stop on by her site! ). This exercise is a little get to know you, or a get to know "us!" The "us" being my favorite Irishman and husband extraordinaire, D!

Do you remember when you and your love went from being "him and I" to "we" or "us"? What a magical time! These questions remind me of all the wonderful reasons why I love being an "us" with my favorite man!


What are your middle names?
Mine is Marie. His is Cadman, which means "warrior" in Gaelic.

How long have you been together?
Our first date was to his fraternity informal in November of 1999. We started dating December 15, 1999. And broke up once for a week or so...or I tried to break up with him. He fails to recognize that breakup (I apparently was not hot at break ups), so we say we've been together almost TEN (!) years this December.


How long did you know each other before you started dating?
We had classes together (both History majors). But he was wild and fun. I was studious and a copious note taker, so we weren't in each other's field of vision. We hung out a few times before our fraternity informal date, but he was basically a stranger to me. Kind of funny  when I think back on it!

Who asked who out?
He asked me. After he and his roommate drafted a list of "potential dates" for this informal. So I guess his roommate also asked. Thanks CB!

Who made the first move?
I think it's a tie. Just thinking about it makes me giggle.

my extroverted man and his homecoming crown. we were crazy in love!

How old are each of you?
We are both 30. I'm two months older, which he never lets me forget. Calls me a cougar for the 2 months that I'm actually a "year" older. 

Did you go to the same school?
Yes. Met in college.

Are you from the same home town?
Nope. I'm from "fly over country" and he's from San Diego. We're both Minnesotans now, though.

Who is the smartest?Him by a mile.

look at all my honor cords and summa cum laude-ness. too bad he's waaaay smarter!

Who majored in what?'m a double major in History and Elementary Ed with a minor in Spanish. He's a double major in History and Poli Sci.


Who is the most sensitive?Definitely me. Worst when I'm pregnant.

Where do you eat out most as a couple? These days it's wherever is most kid friendly...you know, Red Robin, Buffalo Wild Wings. But as a couple? Probably Smalley's Pirate Bar or the little Irish Pub in town.


Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple?

Kauai on our honeymoon.

Who has the worst temper?
Probably me, but neither of us is really crazy in the temper. He has a gift of being so tolerant of my shortcomings, though. Much better than I.

How many children do you want? Exactly the number we have: 3. But some days when I see my pals' preggo bellies, I do want more. And then I remember that I vomit for the entire pregnancy to the point of hospitalization, and I come to my senses. 

Who does the cooking? Me, definitely. He makes a mean grilled cheese and wicked good pancakes, though.

Who is more social? 
Definitely him. I'm an introvert.


Who is the neat-freak? Neither of us. We both like neat and clean, but not to the point of freakishness.


Who is the most stubborn?
We could debate about this for years. So, I guess both of us are stubborn.

look! it's little man and littlest man (in utero) with the cutest daddy ever. 

good thing the stretch marks don't show up on this low res photo....!

 

Who wakes up earlier? Naturally, or as a result of 3 monkeys that are "so hungry" or "want to go outside"? He is a champ about getting up with the kids in the AM many days, but I'm a more naturally early riser. I can converse and make plans, he is mostly catatonic until after a shower and a latte.

Where was your first date?
His fraternity informal in Windsor, Canada...some Irish Pub, followed by dancing. Our first "real" date was to (!) Olive Garden in Jackson, MI. Classy, I know. Nothing says "forever" like all you can eat salad and breadsticks!

Who has the bigger family?
Me for sure. I have one brother, but a humongo extended family of cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. on both sides. He's an only child with very few cousins or aunts/uncles. My family likes him almost more than me, though, so it works out for him!

Olivia Wagner Photography

Do you get flowers often?
Not a ton, but certainly many times a year. I'm not a huge flower person, but he loves getting me long stemmed red roses. My favorite flower gifting was when he had two dozen roses for me when I had Little Miss Pink, but one gorgeous pinkish red rose for her. Her first rose! From Her Daddy! Melt!

Who is more jealous?
I agree, this is an odd question. I guess probably me...I sometimes wish I could wine and dine and use all of my brain cells more often, but would never be able to do it like he does. Neither of us is really a "jealous" spouse, though. We trust each other implicitly.

How long did it take to get serious?
Not too long. We were first just dating casually out of convenience (great date to sorority events, similar major, common friends), but then he broke his jaw (softball to the face! ouch!) and I played Florence Nightingale to his injured soldier, and the rest is, as they say, history. We went on hours-long drives around southern MI and IN, talked about everything under the sun, and fell in love. We spent that summer apart---he in Washington DC and me in Spain, and got engaged shortly after that. Married the following summer. Crazy!

all of these photos that look too beautiful to be real are shot by the amazing olivia wagner .

Who eats more?
Him.

What do you do for a living?

He is the president of a non-profit , I am a mom of three who does a bit of grant writing, editing on the side. And avoids laundry full-time.

Who does the laundry? Funny! I didn't even see that this was the next question. I do the laundry. But I'm horrible at it, or at putting it away promptly. He pretends he doesn't know how to use the washing machine. I wish I could feign amnesia with it! Laundry sometimes makes me cry. I'm just throwing it out there.

Who’s better with the computer? For sure him.

we like to laugh. i'm funnier, though. don't tell him. also, please ignore my double chin.

Olivia Wagner Photography

Who drives when you are together?
Always him. We drove from MN to the Black Hills this summer, then home and straight to Milwaukee and back. He drove every.single.mile. Loves to drive. I love to ride, so we're a match made in heaven!


What is your song?
"Crazy Love" by Van Morrison. See previous post for details. 


Thanks for the tag, Monkey's Mama! This was so fun. A good refresher in "Why I Heart my Hubby 101." So, to encourage more fun for all: I'm going to go ahead and tag a few mamas I know. Tag, you're it (if you have time and energy!) to Mandy , Maria , Megan, and Michon! 

An Ode to a Kitchen Tool, or Why I love my Immersion Blender

image courtesy of cristyl

I'm not really a gadget person. I'm not incredibly mechanical. But there is one kitchen tool that I just adore.

My Immersion Blender.

image credit: cuisinart.com

It is shiny, sleek, amazingly versatile, compact, and so very useful. I can't even remember life before it came into my world.

Oh wait, I do. I used to make creamy soups and have to ladle them into the blender, fill it too full and then have the blender erupt with hot soup all over the kitchen. SUPER fun to clean up. And I couldn't make delicious milkshakes at the drop of a hat. Or perfect homemade salad dressings because the oil would so quickly separate from the vinegar. I also couldn't make whipped cream without taking out the huge Bosch mixer (which I do love, btw!). 

image courtesy of cristyl

Top 5 Reasons I Heart My Immersion Blender

1. It makes amazingly quick work of making creamy soups or de-chunking (technical term!) thick sauces, like tomato sauces.
2. The milkshakes made by the immersion blender can't be beat.
3. Can you say "emulsify!"?? When making a delish homemade vinaigrette, it actually makes an emulsion that holds together very well, thickens, and tastes even better.
4. It is great for doing quick mixing of any kind without taking out the big Kitchen Aid (or, in my case, Bosch).
5. Whipped Cream in a jiffy! 
6. Okay, I know I said five, but this part is also fabulous: The Immersion Blender is small, takes up little space and is so easy to clean---the mixer part is dishwasher safe! Hooray!

If you've been a good boy or girl this year, I highly encourage you to ask Santa for an immersion blender. If you've been naughty, ask your mom to buy you one. She always loves you.  And I promise, your life will never be the same. Or at the very least, your it will rock your culinary world!

Days Like This

I'm a big Van Morrison fan. My favorite Irish hubby (and only hubby, to be clear!) and I danced to "Crazy Love" as our first dance as Mr. & Mrs. It was our song because, back in the college days of dating, we were cautious to say, "I Love You" to each other, so we'd say "I'm crazy about you" instead. We even had a little numbered system, e.g. Crazy #1 was "I (almost) Love You" and Crazy #2 was, "I just want to kiss you and skip class." Crazy #3 may have been "You're actually making me crazy and not in a good way." I'm glad we got past all of that craziness! I can barely keep track of the names of our children, let alone 12 different types of crazy for each other! Young Love!

I'm glad to have graduated to...well, Old Love. The kind that's comfortable in its own skin, the kind that is like my favorite part of one of my favorite books, The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams:

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room.  "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse.  "It's a thing that happens to you.  When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.  "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse.  "You become.  It takes a long time.  That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.  Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby.  But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." 

These days, I am definitely Real. My fur hasn't been loved off, but I have loads of proof that I have been loved enough by the Little Men and Little Miss Pink and my darling husband to become loose and shabby.

I pray that, in this process of becoming Real to those I love, I would do a better job of having my sharp edges worn off and having my patience, along with my skin, grow thick. It's hard to have limitless patience some days as a mom and wife and friend and daughter and sister. Certainly and most objectionably, I tend to display the shortest fuse with those I love the most. On those days that are like another Van Morrison song I love, "Days Like This."

I need to do a better job of praying for a patient heart and mind and mouth with my babes and my husband. Because some days even when everything goes well, it will be a Day Like This, just like mama says. 

This job description of mom and wife doesn't always come with daily doses of praise and accolades, nor glamor or glitz. It does come with days like this, so to speak.On these days, I find it so important to be prayerful and ask for the right heart and mind. Things can turn around quickly from Days Like This to, well, Tupelo Honey. But enough of Van Morrison.