Friday Food: With a Grapefruit Heart

Friday 

Short version: Fish sticks, baked spaghetti, tartar sauce at home, pizza at the game

Long version: I was at the last home basketball game of the season with the cheerleader, where they thoughtfully had some Lenten options at the concession stand. She chose the cheese pizza.

She also made me a grapefruit heart after eating her breakfast in the morning.

I had bought a box of fish sticks awhile ago, and saved them purposely for Lent. Neither the cheerleader nor I care for fish sticks, so this seemed like a good night for them. All A. had to do was stick them in the oven with the rest of the baked spaghetti. It was a box of forty fish sticks, and they ate them all. Impressive consumption.

A. really likes tartar sauce, which is not something I buy, so he looked up some recipes and made some with what we had on hand. That was mayonnaise, mustard, finely chopped onion and dill pickles, and pickle juice. It tasted exactly like the dressing I use for American potato salad, and was a big hit. I actually ate some when I got home with a few of the potato chips we still had from the bag Ms. Amelia gave us, and it was very good as a dip, too.

I also finished the cold spaghetti on everyone's plates when I got home, because that's what moms do. Cold spaghetti and potato chips with tartar sauce are not the healthiest of dinners, but that's the way it goes sometimes.

Saturday

Short version: Baked beans, leftovers, carrot sticks

Long version: I made the baked beans with pinto beans. I know that's not traditional for baked beans, but pinto beans are traditional to here, and I had a ten-pound bag of dried pintos on hand.

I pressure-canned seven quarts of them. The rest of the big pot I had soaked went into the baked beans.

There were only four of us at home, as A. had taken the youngest boy to his hunter education course over the weekend. The two who like baked beans had them with leftover beefy rice.

The one who doesn't like baked beans had a spaghetti sandwich. When he was sick to his stomach and couldn't eat for a couple of days, he mentioned that the first thing he wanted to eat when he was better was a spaghetti sandwich. I guess because it's really filling? I don't know. We happened to have just enough leftover baked spaghetti for him to have this, though, which seemed fortuitous.

Sunday

Short version: Lamb roast, baked potatoes, frozen green peas, chocolate ice cream

Long version: The lamb roast was a boned-out leg that I marinated and baked. A little too long, so it was overcooked, but oh well.

I always corral my potatoes for baking in something, otherwise they roll all over the oven rack. This time, I used the skillet from making my eggs in the morning.

Potatoes nestled all snug in their pan.

I did not make the mistake of making peanut butter shakes with the chocolate ice cream this week. I didn't make milkshakes at all, in fact. Everyone seems to like it just as well in a bowl, and that means I don't have to do anything. So bowls it is.

Monday

Short version: Beef tacos, various leftovers

Long version: Before work, I had taken out a bag of the beef pulled from soup bones when I made beef stock a couple of weeks ago. I changed my mind several times trying to decide what to do with it. In the end, I just heated it up in a pan with salsa and taco spices, and served it in corn tortillas with cheese. 

There were also baked beans still, and A. had the last of the lamb.

Tuesday

Short version: Sausage variety, potato salad, raw broccoli

Long version: Andouille, boudin, and plain smoked sausage, and I'm getting annoyed with having to customize sausage. One child doesn't like this one, one thinks these are too spicy, one doesn't like sausage at all. I think I will have to give up on sausage for this family of rampant individualists.

I made the potato salad because I had a little less than a cup of tartar sauce left. So I just mixed it with boiled potatoes and eggs, plus a little more pickle juice and mayonnaise. Only about half the family likes potato salad, but I LOVE it, so it was a nice treat for me, anyway.

The broccoli came from the excess commodities delivery we got in the afternoon. The lady had a ton of broccoli. My kids mostly like it raw, so that's what they got.

Wednesday

Short version: Unpopular beef soup, cheese, bread with butter and honey

Long version: I made this soup the day before, knowing I would be getting home right at dinner time from First Communion class. The reason I made soup was I had a few quarts of liquid left from pressure-cooking yet more of the bull. The only meat I had on hand for it was the rest of the shredded beef from the tacos. I did have some canned beef stew from commodities, and I thought maybe I could rinse off the gross liquid from that and just use the vegetables and meat from it. 

Yeah, no. That stuff is absolutely disgusting. Even after rinsing, the vegetables were so nasty tasting, I just gave them to the chickens. The diced beef in it was okay, though, so I picked that out and put it in the soup.

I also still have cans of Veg-All from commodities. The last one I used had lima beans in it, which I thought tasted gross, so I was going to pick those out. But the can I found and opened was labeled "Homestyle," and only contained carrots, potatoes, celery, peas, and onions. It was much better than the other, which is apparently the "Original" version.

The secrets of Veg-All are being revealed to me.

Anyway. 

I also put in some tomato sauce (commodities!), extra potatoes, and, at the last minute, some zucchini delivered that very day from the commodities lady. And when I heated it up before dinner, I put in some sour cream.

It wasn't bad, but oh my goodness, the WHINING at that table. So much whining. The zucchini put it over the edge for the ones who usually like soup, I guess, but the ones who don't usually like soup were very unhappy.

But because I do not give options for dinner, they all found ways to eat at least most of their bowls. They did this mostly by adding so much sour cream to them that they couldn't taste anything else. 

Whatever. It was eaten. And then they all got a piece of bread with honey, which makes up for a lot.

Thursday

Short version: Redemptive chicken sandwiches, green salad with ranch dressing

Long version: I was in the city this day to bring the post-surgical child to get his stitches out. He wanted to go to The Wing Stop for lunch, which we did. It was very underwhelming. I got chicken tenders, ate two, and brought two home to put in my dinner salad.

For the rest of the family, I got the 16 pieces of fried chicken at the grocery store deli again so they could have the chicken sandwiches like Popeye's--chicken, mayonnaise, and dill pickles. This restored me to Great Mom status after the soup disappointment.

I was not in prime condition after a bad night of sleep, a very early waking time, a three-hour drive in two inches of snow on unplowed roads for fifty miles of the drive in to the city, errands, the doctor visit, and then the 140-mile drive home. I was happy to have the chicken to avoid cooking when I got home, even if it did cost twenty dollars. 

Then again, the sub-par lunch at The Wing Stop was twenty-one dollars, and it only fed two of us, not six of us with leftovers. So I guess the grocery store chicken isn't such a bad deal.

Refrigerator check!

It's quite clear I went to the grocery store yesterday. 

The most unusual items in my refrigerator right now are the Activia yogurt drinks, which came from commodities and which a couple of my children love, and two plastic containers of lettuce. I don't buy lettuce in those big plastic boxes, except when I need the boxes to start seeds. Which I do, because I need to get my tomatoes and peppers going. 

Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?

The Wind Beneath My Food

We live in a very windy place. There's no time the wind isn't likely to blow, but in the spring, it REALLY howls. Instead of a mud season, we have a windy season. We haven't quite started our windy season yet, but it's ramping up. The sustained wind speeds yesterday and today are between 25 and 30 miles per hour, with gusts up to 70 miles per hour.

It's unpleasant.

Yesterday while I was plating up dinner, I found that the child whose plate I was holding had gone outside to run around. So I walked out the door to call him in to dinner, still holding the plate in my hand that had two tortillas and cheese already on it.

I went out of the porch to yell for him, realized he couldn't hear me over the wind, and went back in to ask A. to go search him out. When I got back into the kitchen, I saw that the plate I was holding had nothing on it.

I stared at it for about twenty seconds before I realized that the wind must have blown the food off the plate in the five seconds I was outside.

Sure enough, there were the tortillas on the ground by the door. 

Lucky day for the dogs.

This morning I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and lay there listening to the wind howling outside the window for about half an hour before giving up on going back to sleep.

A few days ago, I ran across a sourdough cinnamon roll recipe that didn't call for any rising time. I had sourdough in process on my counter at that very moment, which meant lots of starter on hand, and I was up in PLENTY of time to make them before I had to get the kids up for school. And so, there were cinnamon rolls on a random Tuesday. 

Lucky day for the kids.

I tried one. They were okay. Not bad--how could they be, right?--but with a texture and taste that is definitely the result of using baking soda and powder. Nice for a quicker option, but I prefer the real long-risen cinnamon rolls. There are no shortcuts in life, I guess, especially for baking.

The children, however, all said they were just as good as the traditional version, and since they're the ones I make them for, that worked out.

Snapshots: Repairs

My oven was taking forever to heat, and also had an alarming smell of propane. Thanks to the internet, I figured out that the igniter needed to be replaced. Also thanks to the internet, I ordered a new one.

The internet couldn't help A. with the installation.

The most important part was getting light in there.

The installation was not without its difficulties--as always--but A. triumphed in the end, and I can bake again.

We woke up to more rime several days ago.

Pretty.

A close up.

And a closer up.

This rime was oddly spiky. It wasn't hard, and would just drift right off when I touched it, but it looked really weird.

I have been trying to get the windshield on our van replaced for several months now. As with most things, it's much harder to get done here than in a more-populated area. 

The first time they were supposed to come, they canceled because of weather. 

The second time, they came without telling us they were coming and I was in the city at a physical therapy appointment.

The third time, they canceled because their truck needed to be fixed.

But finally, the fourth time was the charm and they replaced the windshield on Friday.

The view from the van. So much better. What I don't see anymore: Scratches, nicks in the glass, and a big crack at the top.

I came home from a basketball game the other evening to find that two of the children had retrieved the Christmas tree from where it was awaiting burning and had set it up in the pasture.

This was part of a lumberjack game, I was told.

There you have it! My life, snapshotted.