Old-school Screen Time

T minus 33 hours until we leave for our roadtrip. (Give or take thirty minutes.) I have, of course, been prepping food for over a week now, because I once again intend to cross the country without needing to stop at a restaurant.

I started gathering children's clothing today, as well, and I got the van all cleaned out in anticipation of stuffing it full of crap once again.

Ah, but what crap will I stuff in it to entertain the children during the 28 hours we will be driving?

That, I'm afraid, was not so carefully considered this time around.

I did buy some new books for Cubby, because he is lucky enough to be able to read in a moving car without getting sick. Charlie is not so lucky.

I found some activity books and sticker books we already had on hand that may work for a short amount of time to keep Jack and Charlie distracted.

I found some board books for Poppy, and I'll throw in some random toys.

But my ace in the hole, my extra-special secret weapon is a twenty-year-old Game Boy.

The boys don't know I have this. I actually don't know why I do still have it. It was given to me by my parents when I went away to college twenty years ago--I think--and in the intervening years it has apparently moved with me to the many places I've lived since. I do not know why, because I definitely have a tendency to chuck anything that I consider extraneous. An electronic game that I haven't played in 15 years definitely qualifies, and yet, there it is in my closet.

When I realized I was facing a roundtrip distance of approximately 2,500 miles with four bored children, I pulled out the ancient Game Boy, put in new batteries, and flipped the power switch.

To my astonishment, it turned on.

The only game I have for it is Tetris, and it's a small, old, black-and-white video game system that would look hopelessly primitive to children accustomed to modern gaming systems.

Luckily, those are not my children. The only video games they have ever played have been on the computer at school. They're not picky. I confidently expect incredulity at their great good fortune when I get desperate and pull out the screen on our drive.

I don't expect it will keep any of them but Cubby entertained for very long, but even an hour would be helpful. We'll see, I guess.

And if that fails, there's always the rhyming game.

Any other suggestions for non-electronic car games? I could use all the help I can get.

Friday Food: Nothin' But Beef

Friday

Short version: Bunless hamburgers, bread and butter, coleslaw

Long version: A. cooked the hamburgers on the grill, which is always the best way to cook meat.

I made the coleslaw from one of our own cabbages. We had eight seedlings that I planted out on St. Patrick's Day, and all eight of them need to be harvested before we leave for a month. The first one I made into coleslaw. I'll be giving several away, and the rest will just have to wait in the refrigerator until we get back and I can make sauerkraut or something.

Saturday

Short version: Cube steak in barbecue sauce, leftover rice, leftover coleslaw

Long version: I had thought I might make stir-fry with the cube steak, but then I, um, didn't. Instead I cut the cube steak into chunks and dumped some leftover mustard vinaigrette on it to marinate. Then I browned it, added some diced onion, some barbecue sauce and the last of a bottle of ketchup shaken with water. Simple, but tasty. Especially with the leftover coleslaw.

Sunday

Short version: A Father's Day Feast of T-bone steak, oven fries, roasted garlic, asparagus

Long version: A. told me that for Father's Day, he wanted to work on the roof of the new house. So that's what he did.

This roof is much less dangerous than the terrifying roof at Blackrock, so Cubby could help. 

I find it amusing that the special part of this meal wasn't the steak--which we have at least once a week--but the rest of it. A. loves french fries, which this time were just oven fries with beef tallow and olive oil.

I roasted three heads of A.'s garlic that had gotten damaged with the shovel while he was digging them up. Two of them were eaten at that one meal. A. loves roasted garlic even more than french fries.

I do not generally buy asparagus at a store, because I am only too aware of how inferior it is to "real" asparagus from a garden. But the tiny store near us had some that didn't look too terrible, and it is one of A.'s favorite vegetables, so I bought it. I just steamed it and put butter and salt on it.

Monday

Short version: Bunless hamburgers, rice, frozen green beans

Long version: I was supposed to make spaghetti and meatballs with Cubby this day. He's been asking to make it for about two weeks, and I finally told him we would definitely do it on Monday. He went so far as to write it on the calendar for me so I wouldn't forget.

And then I got sick Sunday night and was definitely operating at less than 100% all day Monday.

I took out the ground beef, but I couldn't bring myself to go through the many steps involved in making meatballs. Particularly with an assistant. So I had to disappoint the budding chef and make hamburgers instead.

Tuesday

Short version: Spaghetti and meatballs, roasted sweet potato/bell pepper/onion/broccoli

Long version: There was a reason I had told Cubby we would make spaghetti and meatballs on Monday: Because it was relatively cool that day. It was not cool on Tuesday. But a promise is a promise, and spaghetti and meatballs there must be. The kitchen was over 80 degrees by the time I finished all the broiling, baking, and boiling necessary to make spaghetti and meatballs.

They were really good, though, as always. And a bonus to having Cubby help me make them* was after we had been through all the steps, he said, "Meatballs are complicated." Yeah, they kind of are, even with my simplified method. And that, son, is why I don't make them more often. Maybe now he'll stop bugging me to make them so much.

One day he will learn that most people use jarred sauce for pasta and possibly even frozen meatballs, but I can hope that his taste buds will be so accustomed to homemade food that it will be worth it to him to make the effort. Given the fact that he told me nobody's meatballs are as good as mine (as well he should--mothers expect nothing less) and that the prepared meatballs they used to serve at his old school cafeteria in New York looked gross, I think he's well on his way.

Wednesday

Short version: Vaguely goulash-type soup, leftover spaghetti and meatballs, frozen vegetables

Long version: When I went freezer diving in the morning, I surfaced with a package of mystery beef. It was one of the things given to us by Ray, and it was the only thing not labeled. It looked pretty freezer burned, so I figured I'd better use it up.

It looked like some kind of bony roast, so I chunked it (still solidly frozen) into my enameled Dutch oven with some tomato juice, garlic powder, bay leaf, salt, and pepper and cooked it until the meat could be pulled off.

I still don't know where on the cow it came from--somewhere near the shoulder, maybe?--but it was a high ratio of bone to meat, so I only got about a cup of meat off it. I had some sour cream and a few potatoes I wanted to finish up before our trip, so I decided to make something like goulash with it.

To do that, I sauteed chopped onions in a skillet until soft, then added paprika to that, dumped all that in with the meat, added chopped carrots and potatoes, and simmered that until the vegetables were soft. I also put in some peas so I wouldn't have to serve a separate vegetable and finished it off with the sour cream. It was surprisingly good.

The children ate leftover spaghetti and meatballs and the frozen vegetables. Peas and green beans. Still frozen. They like them that way, and anyway, it was hot.

Perfect for basking, says Poppy Lizard.

Thursday

Short version: Beef stir-fry, rice

Long version: Apparently, stir-fry is now Jack's favorite food. He asked me wistfully a few days ago if I could make it again, because he loves it so much. What he really loves is the peanut butter in the sauce. That child would eat peanut butter three times a day if he could.

Actually, it occurs to me that yesterday he did eat peanut butter in some form for all three meals. Proof that sometimes dreams do come true.

Anyway.

I had a bunch of already-cooked vegetables to use up, and I figured the stir-fry would be a good way to do that, so I made it. Everyone was happy. Except Charlie. He doesn't really like stir-fry. Oh well. Five out of six is good enough.

We're leaving for Blackrock Monday and anticipate getting there Thursday, so it's possible I might manage my regularly scheduled Friday Food next week. But it's also possible I won't, and either way, I think the internet will go on.

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

* We did not use the recipe in his cookbook, because it was for turkey pesto meatballs. I have neither ground turkey nor pesto and will never purchase those items. I bought ground turkey once, and it was so disgusting I vowed never to do so again. As for pesto, that we only have when there is basil in the garden. Store pesto is not worth eating, in my opinion.

Dry Run

As I mentioned a few days ago, we are leaving for Blackrock soon. A week from today, as a matter of fact. We will be driving again, as the cost of six plane tickets is a bit staggering. With memories of our cross-country trip last summer still unfortunately clear in my mind, I suggested to A. that this time we should plan on camping instead of staying in motels.

This seems insane, I know. A. probably thought I had gone insane when I mentioned it, because my dislike of camping is deep-seated and well-known.

However.

We found it to be less than relaxing to stay in motel rooms with our feral children after they had been sitting in a car all day. We would get into our room and spend twenty minutes shouting at boys to stop screeching and jumping on beds before giving up on the idea of relaxing and bringing them outside to run around wherever we were.

I came to the conclusion that I would rather just be at a campsite where they could run around us and scream outdoors.

This is all good in theory*, but we have one big question mark in this equation: Poppy.

She has never been camping. The plan is for her to sleep in the smaller tent with me--leaving poor A. with the crazy boys in the big tent--but I have no idea how well this will work. Not only is she only accustomed to sleeping in her crib, she is not at all used to sleeping with other people. Even me.

Cubby set up their small tent in the enclosed porch the other day, so I've been encouraging Poppy to go into it and explore. She hasn't been too enthused, and certainly doesn't appear inclined to lie down and rest in it, but all I can do is cross my fingers and hope for the best.

Wish us luck.

 * I am not so delusional as to believe that camping with them will be relaxing either, but at least we won't be paying seventy dollars for the privilege of listening to them scream and run around in an enclosed space.

Garlic for Father's Day

El Rey de Ajo* dug up his garlic yesterday.

Not even the voracious gophers could eat all of this.

We'll be having roasted garlic with the traditional Father's Day steaks tonight. And every night for forever, possibly.

* This is Spanish for "The Garlic King." I'm gonna get this airbrushed on a custom license plate for A.'s vehicle one day.

An Unfortunate Casualty

My loyal coffee cup has finally given up the ghost. The coffee cup that I bought in the Small City near Blackrock when I was pregnant with Poppy. It was extra-large--crucial given my chronic lack of sleep in the past two years--extra-wide, and, well, mine.

I dropped it this morning when I was taking it out of the dishwasher. It hit the door of the dishwasher, but didn't seem to sustain any damage. I had my first cup of blessed coffee, took a firm grip on my coffee cup to get up for the second one, and . . .

Okay then.

At least it didn't break while I was drinking my coffee, thereby depositing sharp pieces of ceramic in my coffee or, like, slicing my lips.

Good old coffee cup. Loyal to the end.

I had to have my second cup in Charlie's dinosaur mug. The dinosaur skeletons become visible when hot liquid is added to the mug.

Whimsical, but not big enough.

Luckily, we're leaving for Blackrock next week (I can't think about this yet, or I will succumb to the overwhelm), so I can add another coffee mug to the long list of things to look for at a thrift shop while I'm there.

In the meantime, I'll be having my coffee in a sub-par cup and mourning the loss of my faithful old companion.

Friday Food: Kids All Over the Kitchen

Friday

Short version: Hot dogs (with buns!), leftover hamburgers, cheese puffs, green salad

Long version: To say this is an unusual meal for us is a great understatement, but it seemed a fitting end for a day in which we took the kids to the beach and got them ice cream bars. Summery, in other words.

Charlie and I don't like hot dogs, so we had the leftover hamburgers. I had promised Cubby I would get him some cheese puffs, because last time we got chips for a picnic, I got the crunchy Cheetos at Charlie's request, overriding Cubby's plea for cheese puffs.

Again, I'm with Charlie on this one. It's really weird how those puffs melt away to nothing in your mouth. Crunchy Cheetos all the way.

Saturday

Short version: Ribeye steaks, Charlie's special pesto bread, raw cabbage, sauteed mushrooms

Long version: Well, it happened. The other boys have become jealous of all of Cubby's time in the kitchen and started demanding their own culinary adventures. This is the problem with having so many children, you see. What one does, the others must do or it's just not FAAAAIR.

Anyway.

I had told Charlie he could help me the next time I made garlic scape pesto. So he did.

Cutting up scapes is good knife practice.

The lamb's quarters are unfortunately done for the season, so the only thing I had to add to the scapes  (besides the standard nuts and olive oil, I mean) was some beet greens. This made for a very, um, lively pesto.

Our patriotic quality control deemed it too fiery and demanded a piece of bread with plain butter instead.

As you can see in the background of Charlie's photo, I was making bread that day, so instead of putting the pesto on pasta, we made pesto bread.

I made a round loaf of bread, cut it in half along the equator (that makes sense, right?) and then Charlie spread on some butter and a layer of pesto. 

Like so.

I topped that with some Parmesan cheese and put it under the broiler until it was crispy.

I added a dollop of pesto to the cooking mushrooms, and A. topped his steak with pesto as well, so it was a very garlicky meal.

The raw cabbage was Charlie's choice for a vegetable. No pesto on that.

Sunday

Short version: Jack's special tacos with homemade tortillas, Cubby's special chocolate chip cookies

Long version: Remember Ray, Rafael's hunting guide son who brought us meat a few times last fall? Well, he stopped by on Saturday and unloaded half his freezer contents into our freezer. He and his wife are doing a bunch of work on their house, so I must assume kitchen renovations are underway and they needed to get their freezer out of the way. 

In any case, we now have about fifty pounds of beef (they have a family ranch and get their beef processed at the same place we got ours from) in our freezer courtesy of Ray. I gave them a loaf of bread in return, which seems a poor trade for them, but at least it was fresh bread.

Anyway. I used some of Ray's ground beef--80/20 from the store, which I do not like, but gift horses and all that--to make taco meat (into which I put another spoonful of that handy pesto) and this time, Jack was my assistant.

Although a four-year-old and an 18-month-old in the kitchen means more anxiety than it does assistance.

He also helped me press the tortillas, but I was too busy helping him with that and keeping the rest of the tortillas from burning to get a picture of it.

The tortillas continue to be a hit with all members of the family, and despite increasing the number I make every time, I haven't yet had any leftovers.

The cookies were from Cubby's cookbook and have so far been the best recipe from that book. It's a totally weird method in which the butter is melted before being mixed with the other wet stuff and then folded into the dry ingredients, kind of like biscuit dough. I was very skeptical of this, but it turned out some chewy, delicious cookies, and I love the fact that I didn't have to remember to soften butter.

We actually made the cookies on Wednesday when it was kind of cold and I wanted to run the oven to help heat the house. We froze some to have for our Sunday dessert. It took a great effort of will for me to not eat them all before Sunday.

I wish I was kidding about that.

Monday

Short version: Leftover taco meat+rice+grated cheese in a skillet. Plus carrot sticks.

Long version: A. was gone all day getting the van fixed (two hours away, which is why we didn't try to drop it off and leave it), and I was not motivated to do anything very ambitious for dinner. Good thing we had so much taco meat left.

Tuesday

Short version: Rib steaks, pasta with garlic scape pesto, sauteed mushrooms and onion, nuked sweet potato, frozen green beans

Long version: Although A. is not a fan of grilling, he consented to grill these steaks. It was warm, finally not too windy, and, as he noted, if he used the outside grill, he wouldn't have to scrub the griddle pan. Sold.

Wednesday

Short version: Meatloaf, baked potatoes, frozen peas

Long version: I disappointed every single one of my children by making meatloaf instead of meatballs. I just really, really didn't want to roll individual meatballs. Also, I'm almost out of barbecue sauce and I hadn't made any marinara sauce.

Everyone still ate two servings, despite the crushing meatball disappointment.

Also, I used the last tablespoon of pesto in the meatloaf, which I found very pleasing.

Thursday

Short version: Beef 'n' scapes, rice, baked sweet potato, Holy's cabbage

Long version: The first thing I grabbed from the freezer in the morning were a couple of packages of beef ribs. These I just cooked in a covered pan most of the day with salt, pepper, and tomato juice.

The scapes were a couple dozen little ones Cubby discovered on some of A.'s smaller garlic plants. Not enough for a full side dish, but certainly enough to flavor the meat. Cubby chopped those into short pieces for me. I sauteed them and when they were soft, I added the beef pulled into small pieces and fried the whole lot in some beef tallow I had poured off from the ground beef I used for the taco meat on Sunday. Nothing else but salt and pepper. Delicious and thrifty. Hooray.

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

In Case You Were Wondering . . .

This is what it looks like when you forget to put the sourdough starter in your sourdough bread:

You should, of course, replaced "you" and "your" with "I" and "my."

The worst part is that I realized something was off when I got to the stage where I was supposed to take starter out of the rising dough and put it back into the refrigerator.  There was quite a lot of starter in the jar I was meant to be re-filling and I thought, "Huh. I must not have taken very much out to start with," and continued stupidly on. Despite the fact that nothing was rising. I went all the way to actually baking the bread. I was tipping it out of the pans before I realized that I probably hadn't ever actually put the starter in.

Not my finest moment.

So now I have four heavy, doughy bricks of "bread" to use. 

You didn't think I would THROW IT AWAY, did you? Perish the thought.

I read that they could be used for croutons. Or bread crumbs. Or cracker-ish things, if brushed thinly and re-baked with some oil.

And of course, I will start a new batch of bread tomorrow. With starter in it.