To Be a Kid Again

I recently made a discovery: I like being a grown-up (it has perks like driving, shopping, and setting your own schedule), but there’s a part of me that really misses being a kid. Every week I spend a portion of my time volunteering in my kids’ school. It’s a fun environment. I like sitting in the back grading papers or tacking artwork to the wall and listening to the kids learn. I enjoy hearing them chatter with one another about the things that are of greatest importance to them. It’s fun to feel the energy in any given classroom full of kids. But I can’t say I’m terribly reluctant to leave at the end of my shift. Sometimes too much energy makes me tired.

A couple of weeks ago, my youngest daughter’s teacher asked me, not to pin up artwork on the wall, but to make a couple of samples of the artwork to use with future classes. She showed me the “Haunted Houses” that had been put on display already and requested that I make two or three for her files. I loved the mysterious watercolor backgrounds and the whimsical nature of these pieces.

My daughter proudly showed me her own masterpiece in the top-left corner. Delightful.

So I rummaged in the supply cabinet for paper and watercolor paints. Fortunately, my husband is an experienced watercolor painter and has taught me how to mix colors so as to have more options than just what’s in the Crayola tin. I felt prepared. For the next twenty minutes, I thoroughly enjoyed myself as I painted three sunset backgrounds, nearly oblivious to my surroundings and absorbed in my work.

While they dried, I took pencil to black paper and started designing my own version of a haunted house. Though I was pleased with the finished result, as I looked at the genuine kid versions, I found mine somewhat lacking in the whimsy theirs all had. Too rigid, I thought. Too planned.

Next try. What about a haunted castle? That would be fun. This time I nixed the pencil and cut freehand. It was too hard to cut circular windows with classroom scissors, so I reached for the paper punch. More spontaneous now. “Hmmm. A castle needs to sit on a hill, but that would block the whole sunset. Maybe I should give the castle a moat, or make a river coming out from the drawbridge.” Two somewhat shapeless blobs became my ground, but somehow, it looked like it was falling off a cliff rather than having a moat emerging from it. Well, if it’s going to fall, might as well make the best of it. I dumped out the paper punch and finished the look. Still didn’t look like one of the kids’ but it was a bit more creative.

OK. Last round. “What about a graveyard? Yeah, that might be interesting. Hey, the castle door I cut out looks like a tombstone. I’ll just cut a couple more here. Well…looks pretty flat and uninteresting. Let’s try putting a haunted mansion up on a hill. Wait, that looks more like an abandoned factory. Guess we’ll just go with it. There. Done.”

Looking at the three, I realize that I had become more fluid and inventive just by going through the process of thinking and creating. I can’t say I love the last one, in fact, it’s probably my least favorite of the three. I can't even say that any of them are stellar. But what I did come to appreciate is the creative zone I found myself in by the time I finished. And I wonder: “Is this where kids live all day long? How cool is that!”

Where do we lose that as we get older? I know plenty of people who never do let that piece of themselves go, though I don’t believe I’m consistently one of them. There are many remarkable artists, musicians, architects, dancers, and other inventive people in the world who make creating their love and livelihood. There are those who live by and for the process of creating. But it takes a bit of effort even for them. It requires some time to get “in the zone.” Part of the beauty of being a kid again is simply living in the creative zone sunup to sundown. And for that, I wouldn’t mind being a little more childish from time to time.

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Chicken Curry

My husband has long had a fascination with India. Several months ago it occurred to us that we’d never been to an Indian restaurant and experienced that type of ethnic food. We went with some friends to a local restaurant and enjoyed it tremendously. However, I was a bit dismayed to receive my bill and realize “I just paid $13 for a bowl of sauce!”

Anxious to sample Indian cuisine again but reluctant to pay a big price tag for it, I set out in search of some recipes I could try at home. It didn’t take me long on allrecipes.com to find a winner. It helps to know that if over 1900 people have tried and reviewed it and it still has 4.5 stars, that it’s probably going to be pretty good. Here’s the recipe as I discovered it.

Ingredients:
• 2 teaspoons curry powder
• 1 teaspoon curry paste
• 1 (13.5 ounce) can coconut milk
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 tablespoon packed brown sugar
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 4 chicken thighs, cut into bite size pieces
• 1/2 cup frozen peas
• 1/2 cup chopped green bell pepper
• 1/2 cup chopped carrot
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch
• 2 tablespoons chicken stock
• 3/4 cup chopped fresh pineapple

Directions:
1. Cook and stir the curry powder and curry paste in a saucepan over medium-low heat until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Pour the coconut milk into the saucepan and mix well. Stir in the fish sauce, brown sugar, and 1 cup chicken stock.

2. Place the chicken thighs, peas, peppers, and carrots into the saucepan with the curry sauce. Bring the mixture to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to low. Simmer until the chicken is cooked though, about 25 minutes.

3. Whisk together 1 tablespoon of cornstarch with 2 tablespoons of cold chicken stock. Stir cornstarch mixture into the curry. Mix the pineapple into the curry and cook until the sauce thickens, about 5 minutes.

http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Thai-Chicken-Curry-with-Pineapple/Detail.aspx

Now of course I can’t hang on to a recipe without tinkering with it just a little:

• I’d never bought coconut milk before and I’d never even heard of fish sauce. Curry powder and curry paste were also not in my cupbords. But I liked curry enough to go out and spring for the unusual ingredients and give it a try.
• I’m not a big dark meat fan, so I only ever have chicken breasts on hand. They work just as well.
• And I’m way too cheap to be buying fresh pineapple to put into a recipe. I’d rather have it on the side fresh and cold. I’ve tried using canned and it’s not very good. I skip the pineapple.
• To get the vegetables to cook at the same rate, I omit the peppers and use frozen peas & carrots, thaw them slightly under running water and add them in 5-10 minutes before serving so they don’t overcook.
• I like my sauce a little less thick, so I consider the cornstarch optional.

Here are some of the things I discovered:

1. Curry powder and curry paste are both necessary for the right flavor. I nearly double the amount listed in the above recipe because I like mine really strong.

2. It doesn’t taste nearly as good without fish sauce. It’s only a couple of dollars for a bottle in the Asian section of the grocery store and lasts for a long time.

3. Coconut milk can be really expensive. You might pay $2 for a can in the average grocery store. Fortunatly for me, I live in an area with a high percentage of Hispanic and Pacific Island people. There’s a grocery store down the street that carries more of their ethnic foods and I can purchase a can for $.88 to $1.30. Look for coconut milk in ethnic food stores for a better deal.

On that note, I might add here that not all coconut milk is created equal. The one on the left was $.88 and had coconut milk as the first ingredient. It's not always available at Super Saver, but I stock up when it is. The El Mexicano brand in the center cost about $1.20, but is full of fake ingredients and didn't taste good at all. The Pacific brand on the right was pricier at $1.39 a can, but worth every extra penny. It was primarily coconut milk and was much richer and creamier than the other varieties. And still far less than the Thai brands in a neighboring store. Long story short: read the ingredient list. If coconut milk is the first ingredient and there's less than three all told, you're getting the better product.

I found myself one day pre-preparing a lot of food for the evening, like cutting up chicken for various recipes (a much easier task when handled with the kitchen shears as opposed to a knife). To remember this was for the curry dish, I sprinkled it with curry powder and let it marinade. Not necessary, but a nice bonus of flavor when thought of in advance.

So here's my adapted and simplified recipe (which I always double to satisfy my hungry family, the photos below show a larger batch):
• 1 tablespoon curry powder
• 2 teaspoons curry paste
• 1 tablespoon packed brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons fish sauce
• 1 (13.5 ounce) can coconut milk
• 1 cup chicken stock (or 1 t. chicken boullion & 1 c. water)
• 2 chicken breasts, cut into bite size pieces
• 1 package frozen peas & carrots

Whether you mix the curry paste and powder together before adding in other ingredients or just dump in everything together, it still turns out about the same. You just want to get enough liquid into the initial mix so that the powder doesn't form into lumps.

If I've marinaded the chicken beforehand, I add it in the beginning to let the flavor cook in longer. If I've not taken that step, all the other ingredients can be added and then I'll cut the chicken into the sauce as I bring it to a boil. It's really hard to cook this recipe the 'wrong' way. :)

Once the chicken is thouroughly cooked, I lightly defrost the peas and corn and dump them into the mix.

 Mmmmm...now just hope I remembered to cook the rice. Jasmine rice is my preference if I have it.

 A feast for the eyes as well as the stomach.

My favorite part: I can feed my whole family for less than the bowl of $13 sauce. :)

Enjoy!

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That Stuff You Make when Dad's Not Here

Admittedly, I don't enjoy cooking for an unappreciative audience. Usually, my husband enjoys and is grateful for nearly everything I fix for dinner. Not so for the kids. (Though now that I have a couple of teenagers, they are beginning to eat just about anything...)

There is one particular dish, however, that John is not especially fond of. But all my kids like it. This simple creation takes about 15 minutes to throw together, and as it was originally concocted from some odds-and-ends in our food storage, it is standard fare for when Dad's out-of-town. No matter what name I try to give it, they don't understand what's for dinner until they look in the pot and say, "Oh, that's the stuff you make when Dad's not here." As of tonight, I believe that is its official name. Dad is on a scout camp with our youngest son tonight, so here's my evening meal before I consumed it:
In a large pot, cook up a 16 oz. bag (or box) of any type of pasta. I typically use maccaroni, but I take whatever choice the child willing to enter the depths of the storage room chooses. Tonight we got rotini. When done, drain and return to pot.

Add in 1 can each diced tomatoes, tomato paste, corn, and beans. Usually we have kidney beans, but apparently we're out, so these are black beans. (Make sure you drain the last two--it doesn't taste good runny.)

And for good measure, I also microwave and add 1 lb. hamburger (stirring/mashing with fork every minute or so until done), a handful of shredded cheese, and about 1/3 c. ketchup. Warm for a few more minutes until cheese melts .

That's it, really. Not very exciting, but extremely fast with minimal cleanup. That's the only kind of meal I'll make when Dad's away.

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The Cost of Creativity

I have long been pondering what it means to be “creative.” Collaborative creativity is even a bit harder to grasp. This isn’t the first post I’ve written on this idea, yet I’m still intrigued by the thought that creativity is as much process as product. Provided you can get through both. One particularly difficult process I experienced last spring almost got the better of me and having no product at all was very nearly the result.

My second grade daughter had been studying oceans at school. Every May, about two weeks before the end of the school year, all the classes set up presentations of special projects they’ve been working on to show their parents at the annual “Share Fair.” Her teacher did not assign much homework throughout the year, but there were two special things she had to do at home as part of the research she had to do on her assigned animal, the Angelfish. Part I was an “Incredible Edible” version of her animal, and Part II was a costume that would make her look like the animal. I know what you’re thinking here…just bear with me on this one.

Two of my other children had this particular teacher before, so I knew the ropes. Unfortunately, the seven-year old I was working with this time did not. And she’s a lot more demanding and high-strung. And extremely perfectionistic. Did I mention that she’s also quite independent? Our trip to the grocery store for “incredible edible” materials was interesting. She had a certain idea in mind. So did I. She wanted to create something that was an exact replica of the picture in her head. I had only the thought to get out of there spending $4 or less. After much frustration and discussion back and forth, I convinced her that striped fruit roll-ups really would make acceptable angelfish replicas. She insisted that she needed multi-colored licorice to make her fish. I bought both (barely within my price range)and dragged her out of the store before she could change her mind.

At the risk of looking like the type of parent who turns everything into a Mom project so it looks perfect, let me qualify here that this is never the case with me. My preference is always to let the child take over and make it their project. The more imperfect it is, the more it evidences that they really did it themselves. The more perfect it is, the more I am impressed with their growth—that which comes with experience. But I do know that with this one, if there isn’t a little guidance up front, she’ll never even start.

Back at home, she looked disgusted with my idea to simply cut the fruit rolls into the shape of fish.
“But they’re too flat.”
“Angel fish are flat.”
“Not that flat.”
“What if we give them a little dimension by making their fins and eyes pop out a little?”
“No.”
“Can we just try one and see what you think?”
“Oh…OK”

One was all it took to convince her, especially since I was more than willing to let her have at it with the kitchen scissors to finish the rest with the paper stencil I’d made. Besides, she got to eat the scraps. And she found a use for her colored licorice that was an even more brilliant addition than trying to shape and structure them into fish. To her credit, she did almost all of it herself. Whew! Part one down, now for the hardest one to go.
I know I shouldn’t have waited until the last day to start the costume, but I really wasn’t that stressed about it. You see, many thought I was going to create this beautiful fabric-and-felt whimsical creation like it was a Halloween costume set to take first prize at the state fair. I had no intention of doing any such thing when her previous two siblings were perfectly happy with the stapled-together-colored butcher paper costumes we’d made. Two weeks before the fair, I’d responded to a class email thread in which a number of parents expressed extreme concern at the difficulty of this task, and I think I alleviated most of their fears. I said “This is no big deal, it’s just for a couple of hours in the evening. Just have fun with it. The teacher will even provide the paper for you.” As the mom on duty the day the paper was dispensed, I felt ready and in control. I knew we were set and could throw this project together in under an hour as soon as she came home from school the day of the fair. Had I done it much sooner, it could have been destroyed in the interim.

I forgot who I was dealing with.

“But Mom, that’s not exactly the right color.”
“Don’t Angelfish come in lots of different colors?”
“I want it to look just like that that one” she wailed, pointing to the image she’d pulled up on Google.
“Honey, I think that’s going to be just a little complicated to make every bump and stripe look just like that.”
“Hmmmph.” She folded her arms and stomped her feet and pouted “I HATE this! It's going to look so stupid!”
“Let’s just start with the shape of the fish and go from there, please.”
“Fine.” She laid down reluctantly on the paper (“…it’s getting all wrinkled…”) while I cut around her. Then I started cutting stripes. So long as they were a little wavy, she was willing to let me keep going, but with a scowl on her face the whole time. When we taped the stripes to the main body, I had to keep cutting, shaping, and adjusting until it met her critical eye. (Why couldn’t we have had the one-color seahorse again I wondered.)

I’ll spare you the details of how the rest of the fish got put together, how it didn’t fit right, how she needed to be able to duck her head in, how it needed fins to cover her arms, how she didn’t like them when they were done, and how we finally left the house with five minutes to spare. I was utterly spent and she was borderline happy with the result.

Until she arrived in her classroom and everyone told her how amazing she looked. Suddenly the whole process was successful. But she wouldn’t hear it from me.
Collaboration, I’ve found, is a painstaking process when working with two people who both have a vision but don’t see eye to eye. It can be done , but it takes a little love and a lot of determination to cooperate. Somehow, we both came out satisfied even after two frustrating evenings together. All that remains now is the memory of how happy Share Fair was that night. At least for her. I think I still choose to take a little more away from the experience because that’s what helps me to grow—like the fact that I actually exhibited barely enough patience to tolerate the whole ordeal, that I didn’t kill her in the process, and that I could leave my living room the disaster we’d made it in order to get her there on time to display her masterpieces.
Coming home from that night really drove home that point. As well as one other. Sometimes the real cost of creativity is simply cleaning up the mess afterward.

http://intuitivehomemaking.blogspot.com/

Ten Roles of Motherhood

Every mother knows that to do her job well, you have to wear a lot of different hats. Some weeks we do more quick costume changes than others. This has been one of those weeks for me. Let me take you on a quick journey through my Mother’s Day weeklong reminiscences…

Monday 2:00—arrived at my son’s school to take him for a doctor’s appointment, only to discover that he’d chipped off ¼ of his front-left tooth. Scheduled dentist appointment from doctor’s office. Role #1: NURSE.

Monday 4:00—rushed to get daughter to “Hair Day” at ballet so she’d look like all the other girls in her class for the recital in two weeks. Role #2: HAIRDRESSER.

Tuesday 11:00-12:30—drove son with broken tooth 30 minutes to dentist then 30 minutes back to school again. Role #3: CHAUFFEUR.

Tuesday 7:00—assisted teenage son in tending our next-door-neighbor’s 3 month old son at our house. Changed diapers, walked the floor when he didn’t like his bottle, kept him happy. Role #4: BABYSITTER.

Wednesday 10:00-3:00—noticed my house was looking really scary. Dishes, laundry, piles of papers in my room, too busy tonight to cook, threw pork in crock pot. Role #5: MAID/COOK.

Wednesday 4:00—drove youngest daughter to her session of “Hair Day.” Reached for my camera as I watched her practice, like I had for her sister on Monday. Found I’d left it at home. Rats. Failed in Role #6: PHOTOGRAPHER.

Thursday 2:30—took two teenage sons and some friends to the Temple, like we do every week. Role #7: SPIRITUAL GUIDE

Thursday 5:30—drove three youngest kids to their school art show so they could show off their masterpieces, then watched as they demonstrated all their favorite stunts on the monkey bars. Role #8: FAN CLUB

Friday 6:30—attended Primary Talent Show and played the piano for both girls as they sang their solo pieces. Role #9: ACCOMPANIST

Saturday 2:00-6:00—helped 10-year-old daughter sew her first quilt; doll-sized, of course. Delighted in watching her discover she has a real knack for it. Role #10: TEACHER

If I thought a bit longer, I could probably come up with a few more. No matter. There will be other hats to wear, other roles to play in days and weeks to come. No job is more challenging, no career is more rewarding than that of being a mom. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Creamy Crock Pot Chicken

I’ve posted a lot of my maternal grandmother’s recipes and my adaptations here, but I haven’t done any of my paternal grandma’s. This has long been a favorite of my family since Grandma Doris first made it. It’s especially nice for those Sundays where you don’t want to spend a lot of time in the kitchen but like to have a nice dinner in the evening.

Here’s the recipe as she first gave it to me:

¼ cube butter (2 T)
2 onions (minced)
1 T. garlic (pre-minced)
I pkg Italian dressing
1 can cream of mushroom soup
8 oz bar cream cheese

Saute onions in butter until tender. Add Italian Dressing mix (dry). Add garlic. Fill crock pot with boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 lbs). Cook all day on low. One hour before serving add soup and cream cheese. Blend together and pour over chicken. Let simmer 1 hour. Can thicken gravy with cornstarch. Serve with rice. Delicious!

Over the years though, I’ve adapted even this simple recipe to suit my family’s personal taste. First of all, I don’t always have Italian dressing mix in my cupboard, and it’s actually a bit pricy in my opinion. Instead, I substitute pre-made Zesty Italian dressing for both the butter and the powdered mix (about 3 T). I also use fresh garlic (5-6 cloves) rather than the kind in a jar.
My family prefers to have less chicken in their dishes and a lot of sauce. I only use 2-3 lbs of chicken and use two or three cans of cream of chicken soup, then add only 4 oz. of cream cheese. Usually I find it gets really thick, so I thin it down a little with milk.

Once the chicken is soft, I shred it into small pieces, rather than serving up individual chicken breasts. (It also makes it go a lot farther.)

Enjoy!

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Grandma's Whole Wheat Pancakes

As I’ve mentioned other places in this blog, I spent a lot of time at my Grandma Smith’s house during my growing up years. We went nearly every Friday night, then she and Grandpa would bring us home on Saturday. She helped us work on sewing projects ,or read stories, or listen to music, or play games like Flinch and Mahjong. But she always encouraged us to help out in the kitchen when it was mealtime.

Best of all was when she decided to make pancakes for breakfast. She never made it out of a box, and she was quite health-conscious, so we ground the wheat ourselves. Grandma owned a large old wheat grinder that allowed you to pour the wheat into the opening at the top, and a fine brown flour would be deposited in a drawer at the bottom. Of course, a good deal of it got sprayed into the air too, so you never wanted to stand too close, especially because it sounded like a jet engine taking off and the noise was deafening.

The wheat grinder I bought a decade ago is significantly smaller, considerably quieter, and much less messy. Yet I don’t always take the time to set it up and use it. Hence, I often make pancakes from mixes when I’m in a hurry. But every time I make them from scratch I only use this recipe. With my family, I have to triple the batch in an enormous bowl so that everyone can have their fill. They’re that good.

2 eggs (separated)
2 c. milk
1/3 c. oil
3 T. sugar
1 T. baking powder (rounded)
1 t. salt
2 c. whole wheat flour

In small bowl, whip egg whites until stiff.
In large bowl, mix egg yolks, milk, and oil. Add sugar, baking powder, and salt. Mix thoroughly. Add flour. Fold in egg whites gently.
Fry on 300° griddle, measure out with ¼ c.
If you want a special treat, slice up some bananas on top before you pour the syrup on—we never failed to hear how that was the way Uncle Bri ate pancakes on his mission to South Africa. So we often ate them that way too.

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Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo

John is now in training for his second marathon. Last fall, when he was preparing for a long Saturday morning run, we would often go to Olive Garden so that he could “carb-up” for his 15+ mile treks. Well, our budget isn’t what it once was in the “going-out-to-eat” category, so the challenge now was to create an alfredo sauce to match that of a restaurant. Anyone can cook pasta easily enough, at least I had that part down.

I looked at many recipes in cookbooks and online. They all called for one of two varieties: heavy cream and parmesean or cream cheese and butter. So last week, I made one batch of each. Guess what? They were both pretty good, but the ideal sauce, I thought, was when I mixed the leftovers together.

So this week, I tried a combination recipe of my own making:
4 oz cream cheese
½ stick butter
Melt together and add
1/4 to 1/3 c. parmesean cheese
Blend until smooth and add
1 c cream (either whole or half & half, depending on how rich you like it)
Stir until thick.

That’s it! Four ingredients for perfect alfredo sauce. Granted, they’re all quite fattening, which probably has a lot to do with it, but it really doesn’t take a lot of sauce to coat a bowl of fettuccine. If it’s too thick, add a little milk to the mixture until it is the desired consistency. I like a little pepper in mine as well.

Another nice addition was some grilled chicken. I invested in a small countertop grill that went on sale for half price last week and already feel I’ve gotten my money’s worth out of it. Earlier in the day, I took my kitchen shears to two chicken breasts and cut them up into bite-sized pieces, poured about 1/3 c. zesty Italian dressing over them, and let them marinade for a few hours. After a few minutes in the grill, they were a delicious addition to make a perfect Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo.

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Chocolate Peanut Butter Chip Cookies

Yesterday afternoon, I went to my storage room to get a bag of chocolate chips. My oldest son is getting his Eagle Scout award on Sunday, and I wanted to have a couple of days to get all of my baking done for the guests who will want refreshments afterward. Much to my dismay, there were no more chocolate chips in my stock. Rats! I always have chocolate chips. What’s up with that? All I could find was a bag of peanut butter chips that I must have bought on an extra-good sale, because I honestly don’t know what to do with peanut butter chips. Since it was all I had, I took the bag upstairs and looked at it. I didn’t really like the cookie or the brownie recipe on the back—they called for more peanut butter and I didn’t feel like working with sticky, messy peanut butter right then. But the idea of doing a sheet of bar cookies sounded appealing as I was short on time.

I took down my favorite brownie recipe, given to me by a good friend, and tried to do something in-between them and the cookie recipe on the bag. I’ve made cookies enough in my lifetime to know approximately what goes into an average recipe, what the dough is supposed to look like, and that if it tastes good before you bake it, they should be just fine when they come out of the oven. (I also know roughly what a half-cup of shortening looks like, so I just took a knife and scooped some into the bowl, like I said, I wasn’t in the mood for cleaning up a lot of sticky stuff.)

The batter was large enough to not only make a sheet of bar cookies, but to also get 18 round cookies for our stake dance Saturday night. When my husband got home, we split one of the cookies to make sure they tasted good enough for company. After I told him what I did he said, “Did you write down the recipe?”
“Um, not yet,” I replied
“Write it down right now, I’ve never had cookies that taste quite like this before.”
So here is my latest experiment, courtesy of John's insistence that I be able to duplicate it. If you want to come to the court of honor tomorrow night, you can sample them for yourself. :o)

2 sticks (1 c.) butter
1/2 c. shortening
2 c. white sugar
1 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. cocoa
1/4 t. salt
1/2 T. baking powder
1 T. vanilla
4 eggs
4 c. flour
1 bag peanut butter chips

Blend all ingredients together except flour and chips. Add flour 1 cup at a time until well mixed. Stir in chips.

For round cookies, reserve some of the chips and press 4-5 chips into ball of dough before baking. It takes an extra minute or two, but they look a lot nicer that way. Bake 8 minutes at 350.
For bar cookies, spread batter evenly into pan with the back of a large spoon, then smooth together with fingertips. Bake 25 minutes at 350. (This picture isn't very good, since it looks like I burned it, but it's really because it's chocolate batter and just makes a dark cookie.)
Enjoy!

New Sewing Blog

I sort of disappeared off the blog scene for the last few weeks. I was asked by a friend mid-January if I'd like to participate as a vendor in a boutique she's sponsoring in March. (Flyer below) I took up the challenge and started a small business making 18" doll clothes--my favorite thing to sew, and one that I knew my kids (particularly my daughters) would be enthusiastic supporting me in. Last night, I launched a new blog called "Lizzie and Girls" showcasing samples of the doll clothes I make. If you're an American Girl doll fan, I'd love to have you stop by http://lizzieandgirls.blogspot.com/

Happy Valentine's Day!

This holiday is almost completely overlooked by our family at times. I buy valentines when they go on clearance after the big day so I don’t have to think about it the following year (and also because I’m cheap). Consequently, the kids know they can just rummage in the bin in the storage room and pull out a new box of cards for their class. They get pretty excited about that part, actually. Now that they can all read and write for themselves, all I have to do is provide a little candy for them to tape onto the notes they will distribute. My biggest reminder that Valentine’s Day is coming up is by the fact that once they begin the project, little heart stickers and odd cards litter the kitchen table for the better part of the week prior to their parties. Finally on the day of, I see that there are some that say “Mom” in the “to” space and it dawns on me that I’d better write out cards of love and appreciation to my children as well.

It’s not that I don’t like to show love to my children or my husband, I like to think that it’s something that I do all the time. The problem lies in the tendency for Valentine’s Day to coincide with two other events (at opposite ends of the spectrum) that easily detract from it. First of all, it always seems to fall on the same weekend as our Stake Conference, and when you’re married to the Stake President, it ties up a bit of time. Secondly, the school science fair is usually the week following, so there is a frantic push to get projects and display boards done over the weekend because it’s less likely to be done very well on a school night. I thought of a “thirdly” too: John and I celebrate the day we got engaged every February 4th. We’ve already had a special date this month, and Valentine’s Day doesn’t do as much for romance by comparison.

While talking to a good friend of mine yesterday, she made the comment, “I love this holiday because it’s the one where my kids are most likely to think of giving instead of receiving.” How profound! Where I’ve always thought of this as a laid-back kind of holiday where I don’t have to do very much, I realize that perhaps I’ve been missing an opportunity to teach my children a valuable lesson in giving. On one hand, I think they get the concept pretty well without me interfering. On the other hand, by not pointing it out to them, perhaps the lesson will be completely lost as time goes on. They’re only in elementary school for so long, after all.

So as I sit here at my computer, listening to my children watching a church movie in the room beneath me, I reflect on the idea of changing my perspective a little. I would do well to encourage their spirit of love and giving by devoting a little more of my time and attention to enjoying this holiday we call Valentine’s Day. And there is certainly much to be gained by nurturing a little more love for family and friends.

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Red-Ribbon White Bread

About three months into my engagement to John and three months still to go, my sweet grandmother invited us to their house to open our wedding gift from her and Grandpa. Much to our astonishment, it was a Bosch mixer, very much like the one she always made bread in. Admittedly, it sat unused in a cupboard of our tiny apartment for most of the time we lived there, but I promised myself when I had a house of my own, it would have a place of honor on the counter. And it has ever since.

If your mixer doesn’t hold the volume of a Bosch, it’s easy to cut in half. One batch makes four full-sized loaves.

5 c. warm water
2 T yeast
½ c. sugar
½ c. oil
2/3 c. powdered milk
2/3 c. potato flakes
2 eggs
2 T. salt
12-15 c. flour

Pour water into mixer and sprinkle in yeast. The rest of the ingredients can be added after a minute or so. I always start with the sugar (because it helps feed the yeast) and end with salt (because it halts the growth of the yeast) before I start adding the flour. Mix in 6-7 cups flour until dough is smooth (it will be very sticky). Add in the rest of the flour 1-2 cups at a time until the dough is not sticky to the touch (if it comes off on your fingers, keep adding flour until it doesn’t. Once dough is desired consistency, let it mix for several more minutes. At least in a dry Utah climate, the most helpful thing to having bread rise and not dry out and crack in the process is oil. Where many recipe books will say to roll out dough on a floured board, I use oil instead. I’ll pour several tablespoons of oil out on my counter, take a pastry brush to spread it out and oil the pans with it at the same time, then rub my hands in it to get it out of the mixing bowl.

Divide the dough by pinching in half, then half again until there are four loaves.

If the mixer has done its job right, it only takes about 2-3 times kneading by hand to shape dough into loaves.

Place into pans, brush oil on the tops, and cover with a dishcloth to rise.

After about an hour (I use rapid-rise yeast, regular yeast may take a little longer) the dough should be ready to bake. Preheat oven to 350 and bake for 30 minutes. When done, remove bread from pans and place on wire rack to cool so the bottom doesn’t get mushy. I usually run a stick of butter over the tops while they're still hot, which gives them a nice golden glaze. This is my family’s favorite, and after several years of experimenting with ingredient proportions, it took second place in the State Fair in 2005.

I never did master Grandma’s wheat bread recipe, but over the years I’ve adapted my own. One note here is that it typically takes about 16 cups of wheat flour for 100% whole wheat bread. There’s also a big difference between red wheat and white wheat, and white wheat has a much nicer, lighter flavor and texture if you're grinding your own. I know you can buy whole wheat flour in the grocery store, but I've never tried it, so I can't vouch for it. :)

For wheat bread, I actually use the same recipe as white, but there are three critical extra ingredients that make up for the lack of gluten found in white flour so that the bread will be light, moist, and fluffy instead of dry and dense. They’re typically found at specialty food stores (like the Bosch Store—that’s where I go), but they make all the difference—and they last a very long time.

2 T. dough conditioner
2 T. vital wheat gluten
2 T. lethicin oil

Imagine my surprise though, when my wheat bread recipe, based off my white bread, won a blue ribbon that same year.

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Epiphany

The year 2009 was one of tremendous growth and introspection for me. So many of the circumstances and situations I found myself a part of caused me to dig deeper and try to understand why I think the way I think, why I feel the way I feel, and why I do the things I do. I still don’t have all the answers. In fact, I feel like I’ve just scratched the surface, but one realization I had this weekend has propelled me into a greater depth of self-discovery.

I’ve always had a love for scrapbooking, card making, sewing, and other visual-type home arts. But I’ve never paused to think about why. While talking with John about a new project or two that I was just starting up, I found myself feeling so excited about them and speaking with a greater passion for what I was doing than I have had in a very long time. I can’t quote myself perfectly, and these thoughts have had more time to distill since then, but essentially, here is what I discovered.

What I really love is the process of taking raw materials and shaping them into something of value. It’s exciting to look at a length of fabric and think of all the possibilities of what I can make from it. I love to start with a blank Aida cloth and a few dozen skeins of embroidery floss and shape a cross-stitched picture from it. I delight in taking a stack of pictures and an assortment of papers and arrange them into something that enhances the memory associated with them. It’s the process of creating that is often just as fulfilling than the actual finished product.

As intrinsically rewarding as creating is, the thing that enhances the completed project’s worth is when I am not doing it solely for my own benefit. I find myself thinking throughout the process “my daughter is going to love this new dress for her doll” or “I hope Sister Smith enjoys this baby blanket” or “John and the kids will really like this scrapbook” or “everyone is going to love these cookies,” then when they do, I feel fulfilled. Whether or not my daughter ends up using the doll dress every day matters less to me than the first smile it puts on her face. Perhaps that scrapbook will gather more dust than attention, but if it provides my family the chance to relive the memory just once, it was worth the effort.

I don’t think it was mere coincidence that I heard three different talks on talents today. It was a blessing to know that I have talents that I’ve worked hard to develop and that the Lord has helped me to increase them. It was also a reminder that there are things I used to spend a lot of time on that I virtually don’t do at all now. I have lost a significant portion of what I had because those things which we neglect will eventually disappear from our lives. I also have a hope that things I haven’t learned to do yet are not entirely out of reach if I’m willing to spend a portion of my time on them to learn.

So what good is all of this introspection? By recognizing that there’s a pattern—a common thread—that is woven through all of my hobbies and interests, it gives me clearer direction to move forward. I feel less selfish spending time doing the things I love to do and more purposeful in doing them. If I decide to reclaim lost talents or develop new ones, I will better be able to enjoy them if I can apply to them the principle I learned about myself—that I love process as much as product and the joy of bringing satisfaction to others. Then the journey is just as delightful as the destination.

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Bean and Bacon Soup

It occurred to me lately that I could post tried-and-true favorites here too. True to form, though, this one took a year or two to perfect. When my husband was little, his favorite Campbell’s soup was Bean & Bacon. That hasn’t changed, actually, but I can’t afford to buy enough pre-prepared soup to feed my entire family and have them all go away full. I had to come up with an alternative version about twelve years ago. So I read the ingredient list on the can: tomatoes, beans, carrots, onion, bacon . . . how hard could it be? The difficult part would be the beans. The only beans I grew up eating were green or jelly, so it took some experimentation to find a method that worked every time.

Cooking beans so they are soft and flavorful, yet do not cause hours of discomfort afterward is the tricky part. I have since learned that most of the gasses are released from beans during their first soaking. So anytime I plan to cook beans for dinner (chili, refried beans, etc), I have to think about it the night before.

Put the measured amount of beans in a bowl or crockpot with 2-3 times the amount of water to cover them. Let them soak all night and drain in the morning. That should take care of most of the unpleasantness of beans.

Place the beans in a crockpot and cover with the same amount of water as before. Let them cook at least 4-5 hours on high or 6+ hours on low, depending on when you want to finish the soup. Do not add ANYTHING else to the beans while they are cooking. The minute you do, the beans stop cooking, and crunchy-bean soup is disgusting. Test the beans occasionally and when they are soft enough for your personal preference, then you can finish making the soup. And I always drain the beans a second time—just to be sure.

So here’s my original recipe, though I always have to double it now that half of my kids are as big as I am. I’d triple it, but my crockpot can’t hold that much.

1 ½ c. white beans (amount set to soak the night before)

15 oz can tomato sauce
3 c. water
2 T. butter
1 small onion, diced
1 large carrot, diced
2 cloves garlic, pressed
½ c. real bacon bits (I hate fake bacon bits. This is not Bean and TVP soup. You could cook your own bacon and use the drippings instead of butter, but frankly, that’s too much work for me).
½ t. liquid smoke (key for great flavor—available in the grocery store by the Worchestershire sauce and similar oddities)
½ t. salt
¼ t. pepper

Place cooked & drained beans back in crockpot along with tomato sauce and water. (Note: sometimes, since I’m doubling the recipe, I’ll make one can diced tomatoes for a chunkier soup) Sauté remaining ingredients together. Add them to the crockpot. Allow to simmer for at least an hour before serving. The longer it cooks, the better the flavor. It’s even better the next day, but even with a double batch, none of it ever makes it that long.

Unanimous favorite among teens, tweens, gradeschoolers, and parents in this house.

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New Year Projects

Recently I discovered that my favorite skirt was threadbare at the waist. Didn’t look so nice or dressy anymore. I found some beautiful microfiber material on the JoAnn’s clearance rack for about $3 a yard, and used the skirt itself as a pattern. Fortunately, it was a pretty simple design—six squares. A front and back each consisted of three panels. The largest two squares measure from waist to knee. The four smaller squares measure from knee to calf. I hemmed the four smaller panels on two sides and sewed two to the front and two to the back. Then I sewed front to back and put in an elastic waistband. I think I spent more time thinking that I needed to do this project than it actually took to do.

Also last April, my favorite purse ever—a souvenir from Disneyland—was stolen. Crushed, I bought a cheap one that I could make do with until I found a better replacement. Well, this week, my not-so-favorite white purse (guess why it was on clearance?) was so dingy that I couldn’t stand it anymore. Being too cheap to take it to the cleaners, I decided to wash it. Um, bad idea. Won’t be using it again, as the brown leather trim leeched into the rest of the color and the whole thing looks moldy.

Fortunately, I used this as a good excuse to make myself exactly what I wanted. As I look back , it was a good thing that a couple of weeks before my patchwork plaid Mickey bag disappeared to who-knows-where, I had mended the nearly worn-out fabric handle and learned a little about how it was put together. I’ve also made my kids tote bags this year for their music books, sling bags for extra clothes, and quilted bags for ballet shoes. I guess I was finally ready for an experiment without a pattern.

I particularly loved the patchwork look of my Mickey purse, so I rummaged in my bin of fabric that hasn’t seen the light of day in several years. There I found large scraps of microfiber in brown and green. I cut two-inch squares and sewed them together like a quilt. Once it looked big enough, I sewed it into a bag shape. It looked like it needed something still. I cut out a long strip of brown for the handle and decided to add another long strip of brown for the top trim.

Then it needed a lining, and my biggest remaining piece was in green. I laid down the purse on top of it and cut two panels (front & back) about ½” bigger than the outside. It needed to be exactly the same size, plus a seam allowance. I also knew that I needed several pockets for all the junk I carry around, so I cut two more long strips of fabric out of the same material. Each strip was then sewn to a front or back panel, with vertical stitches to create the individual pockets. I also sewed on a couple of strips of Velcro to the larger pockets to make sure they stayed closed. The lining front and back was then sewn together, leaving a hole in the bottom to turn the whole project right-side-out when done.

I really didn’t want to mess with a zipper like my old Mickey purse had, but I thought a nice button closure would work. One more small strip of material with a buttonhole was the last needed addition. I sewed the handles and buttonhole strip to the patchwork bag, then added the brown strip of top trim. Finally, I sewed the lining to the outside, right-sides-together. After turning the purse right-side-out, I hand-stitched the lining closed. It has enough room for all the typical things you’d find in a woman’s purse, and plenty of space to throw in my wallet and camera (which goes everywhere with me).

I’m actually quite astonished that it turned out as well as it did. I think a lot of it has to do with having nice material. I’m actually such a sucker for beautiful material that I have piles of various kinds in my workroom and I constantly tell myself “I won’t buy any more until I use all this up.” Which works until the next time I see something to die for on the clearance rack . . . but that’s another story.

Unfortunately, I only have finished-project photos because I never really intended to post these to this blog at all. Not everyone sews, and fewer people are excited about making something without a pattern. But it’s by request of my husband that I write about my newest projects, just for the record. Thanks for challenging me, John. As much as anything, it shows frugality. My new skirt cost about $6 and the purse didn’t cost me a thing (except about four hours).

What I can say is that if you have a big enough need and an eye for observing a few important details, nearly any creation is possible if it’s worth the time to figure it out and do it. My teenage son kept asking me, “you didn’t have a pattern for this?” My reply, “No, but I knew what I wanted it to look like, so I kept fiddling with it until it seemed right.” He promptly took off with my bag of fleece scraps from the five pairs of Christmas PJ’s that I made last month and cut up squares for a patchwork pillow. Maybe I’ll post his progress instead—honestly, it’s a pattern I don’t think I’m ready to try.

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