Friday, November 1, 2019

Friday Food: Snow Days and Sugar Overload


Friday

Short version: Scrounged food, carrot sticks

Long version: We had to take the puppies in to the larger town for a late-afternoon vet appointment for their shots. I wasn't sure if I would be able to find something at the grocery store to have a roadside picnic or if we would just go home.

We just went home.

We got home at 5:30 p.m. and everyone ate some version of the leftover elk chili, tortillas, and cheese. I had a salad with the very last avocado my sister brought with her and some hard salami I had gotten at the store.

You know you live a lot of miles from a store when salami is an occasional treat.

Saturday

Short version: Halloween buffet in the village

Long version: This was the night of the Halloween celebration in the village. The one restaurant has a baked potato bar buffet that's free for kids, which is pretty much the only way our family of six is going to be eating at a restaurant.

I skipped the potato and just had the pulled pork, chili beans, and Fritos with various toppings. The kids mostly skipped real food entirely and homed in on the completely laden dessert table.

Sunday

Short version: Meatloaf, baked potatoes, curried cauliflower, cucumber slices, raw tomatoes

Long version: "Good news!" I announced cheerily to A.-the-cauliflower-hater. "We're having curried cauliflower with dinner!" To which he replied, "Oh good. Cruciferous vegetables with curry powder are really what I've been missing now that we're so far from fresh produce."

So much sarcasm in that kitchen.

Cubby and I enjoyed our curried cauliflower, though. So did Poppy. Another for the curried cruciferous vegetable team.

Monday

Short version: Scrambled eggs, bacon, mashed potatoes with cheese or bread and butter, carrot sticks

Long version: Nothing to see here. Just another workday dinner in which everyone was fed in a very unfancy manner.

Tuesday

Short version: Elk stir-fry with peanut butter sauce, rice

Long version: This elk is very good for stir-fry, being very lean.

I thriftily used the peanut butter left from Poppy and Jack's snack of pretzel sticks dipped in peanut butter for the sauce.

In the morning I made a few dozen chocolate chip cookies for Cubby and Charlie's school Halloween party on Thursday. While I was making my cookies, Jack and Poppy were making some chocolate chip cookies that looked exactly like dominoes. Because they were dominoes.


Domino cookies are the specialty of Poppy's Very Pink Play Kitchen.

Wednesday

Short version: Pizza elk, pasta with marinara sauce, green salad

Long version: We started the day by losing power at 6 a.m. Charlie got up a short time later and immediately asked, "But how will I read my book? Oh, never mind. There's a candle."


Abe Lincoln's got nothing on him*.

The roads were icy, it was snowing, and we were surrounded by ice fog, so school was canceled. Since it was a Wednesday, this meant that I didn't have to go to work. Hooray.

My very old propane stove actually has pilot lights, so I can cook even without electricity, but I wasn't looking forward to boiling water for dishes. So I was glad that the power was back on by noon.

A. packaged the elk meat by simply stuffing gallon-sized zip bags as full as they could get. This means that when I take a bag of elk out of the freezer, I'm dealing with a LOT of meat. So while I was trimming and cutting the elk for the stir-fry, I did some extra meat and put it in a marinade of olive oil, vinegar, garlic, salt, and dried basil and oregano for the next day.

A.'s favorite meat preparation is fried, then mixed with marinara sauce and covered with mozzarella cheese. So that's what I did with the marinated meat. Thus, pizza elk.

I used the rest of the marinara sauce in the pasta, along with some Romano cheese I used in place of our usual Parmesan. A. had purchased the Romano at the cheese factory some time ago, and I figured it was close enough to Parmesan.

Charlie did not agree. He started eating his pasta, made a face, and said, "This pasta tastes okay, but it smells."

So I guess I shouldn't try using Limburger next time, then.

Thursday

Short version: Leftovers, sliced cucumbers

Long version: We all went to Cubby and Charlie's school Halloween party in the afternoon, to kick off the sugar bingeing early. In between the party and trick-or-treating, I managed to get some real food into everyone.

A. ate leftover elk and rice; Jack and Cubby ate leftover elk and pasta; I ate leftover meatloaf and sweet potatoes. Charlie was sick and had a bad sore throat, so I made him some scrambled eggs. He ate those and some rice. Poppy ate scrambled eggs, too, plus some pasta.

After their brothers left to go trick-or-treating with A.--who was not looking forward to a two-hour trailer ride in the forty-degree weather--I let Charlie and Poppy have a candy picnic by the stove with the candy we had already accumulated.


Way more comfortable than that freezing trailer.

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

* For my sister: Please note the flowers you brought us are still going strong two weeks later. Probably because our house is usually so cold it's basically a refrigerator, but still. We're getting your money's worth out of those flowers.

Tuesday, October 29, 2019

Scarily Accurate


You know how when you start to type in the Google search bar, it will auto-fill after the first word or so? I don't know what kind of algorithms they use for this to try to guess what you're looking for. Maybe it's just magic?

Anyway, somewhere online I saw something along the lines of, "Type in 'my children are' and let auto-fill tell you the truth you don't want to admit."

Or something like that. I can't remember the exact words, or where I saw it, but I did it.

Here, in order, is what auto-fill thought I was looking for:

1) My children are . . . my world.

2) My children are . . . my life.

3) My children are . . . out of control.

Spot on, Google. Spot. On.


Sunday, October 27, 2019

We've Only Just Begun


Last night was the village Halloween celebration. Of course, we went, with the under-10 set in costume.


From left to right we have a very sulky Crusader king, a fighter pilot who needs a couple of years to fill out that flight suit, the world's most adorable chef, and a very fierce ninja in Converse. Plus a couple of puppies who are hopeful that the chef has some treats in that apron.

Part of the celebration is one of those trunk-or-treat deals where the kids go to (parked) cars and get candy. They also got candy at the haunted house. Between the four of them, they came home with this:


Baby Candy Bowl.

After the first day of treats, I always dump all the candy in that one huge colander. So that's the beginning of The Candy Bowl. 

Later this week, there will be a Halloween party in Jack's classroom, as well as one for Cubby and Charlie. And then on Thursday is the actual trick-or-treating. Soon The Candy Bowl will be overflowing into a Candy Bag. 

Given the rate at which I allow my children to eat candy, this means that it will sit around until about Christmas, at which point all the good candy (i.e., chocolate) will be gone, leaving only the unwanted DumDum lollipops and weird stuff like Atomic Fireballs, which I will throw out eventually. It's a tradition.

But for now, we have KitKats and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in The Candy Bowl, with the promise of much more to come. 

Let the sugar-fueled revelry begin.

Friday, October 25, 2019

Friday Food: Here Comes the Elk


Friday

Short version: Barbecue meatballs, garlic bread, salad, steamed broccoli, pan-roasted sweet potatoes, chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream

Long version: This was Poppy's birthday dinner. She didn't actually request anything, so I just made what I was planning on making anyway. She did request chocolate cake. I made Grandma Bishop's Chocolate Cake--which at this point should probably be called Great-Great-Grandma Bishop's Chocolate Cake, given her actual relationship to this generation--and then Poppy ate nothing but the ice cream in her bowl.

Oh well. It's the thought that counts. And I was happy to finish her cake for her.

I didn't get a picture of the cake, but it was one of my classic Ugly Cakes, with the bonus of Ugly Candles because I couldn't find the birthday candles and instead had to use a random emergency candle and someone's baptism candle.


Good thing I only needed two candles, because that's all I had.

Saturday

Short version: Elk stew, leftover meatballs, cheese, salad

Long version: My plan for this night was pizza, but then we went to the canyon and by the time I got home there wasn't enough time to get the pizza all done for that night. So what I did was get the dough pre-baked, and then I shoved it in the refrigerator until the next night.

Meanwhile, I re-purposed the elk roast from a few days before into a stew with potatoes, carrots, and peas. Those who didn't want the stew had leftover meatballs.


There were a lot of calories to be replaced after hours of running up and down rocks.

My sister was still visiting, and I paid her the honor of not even worrying about the fact that I was serving leftovers for dinner to a guest. I also didn't worry too much about keeping the house completely picked up while she was here. She might wish I treated her more like a guest, actually.

Sunday

Short version: Delayed pizza, cucumber slices with vinegar and salt

Long version: The pizzas came out well, despite the delay in their final baking.

Monday

Short version: Refrigerator treasures, garlic bread, cheese, raw tomatoes, omelet

Long version: The garlic bread I actually pre-baked along with the pizza crusts on Saturday, so when I got home from work, all I needed to do was put it back in a hot oven for about fifteen minutes.

I neglected to take out any meat to thaw before I left for the day, so instead I pulled out leftover elk stew, chicken taco meat, and roasted vegetables and made various combinations of those for dinner, plus the omelet for A.

It all worked out.

Tuesday

Short version: Elk chili, cornbread

Long version: I seem to have neglected to serve a vegetable. Oh well. The chili had plenty of tomatoes in it. Good enough.

Wednesday

Short version: Elk chili, tortillas and cheese, green salad

Long version: Another work day, another chance to re-purpose leftovers. This time I heated up the leftover elk chili for those who liked it and served it with corn tortillas and cheese. For those who didn't really appreciate the chili, I microwaved the same tortillas and cheese, but put some of the elk meat from the chili right into the tortillas, then added sour cream.

Elk chili tacos. Sneaky.

Thursday

Short version: Oven-fried chicken, mashed potatoes, roasted sweet potatoes, green salad, applesauce and cream

Long version: It's only in the last year that I've started buying cereal*, and so it is only recently that I have realized how useful cereal bags are. I use them to put bread in the freezer, store cheese after it's been cut, and, in this case, shake chicken in corn flour. They're such wonderfully sturdy bags. And since I've already paid for them and have to throw them away, it makes me feel better to get another use out of them.

I made the applesauce from a five-gallon bucket of apples Rafael gave us. From that five-gallon bucket, I canned fourteen quarts of applesauce, made baked apples on Sunday, and then made another gallon of applesauce that we'll just eat. Not bad.

It was cold and snowy this day, so much so that Cubby and Charlie were released early from school.


Giving them more time to read by the woodstove.

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

* I instituted Sunday Cereal when we moved here, because church starts at 8 a.m., and it's hard enough to get everyone there on time without worrying about cooking breakfast. So everyone gets two bowls  of (store-brand) Rice Krispies on Sunday mornings. Whee.

Friday, October 18, 2019

Two



Happy birthday to
my girl

Friday Food


Friday

Short version: Pasta with pesto, leftover hamburgers, leftover green chile beef soup, raw tomatoes

Long version: A. and Cubby were gone on their hunt, so the remaining children ate the pasta with some of the leftover hamburger and I ate the soup.

It was a really good day for soup, because it was freeezing all day.


Poppy was all geared up to go outside to play. She lasted about three minutes. So much for the northern blood she should have from her frozen place of birth.

Saturday

Short version: Tuna salad sandwiches for the kids, more soup for me, brownies

Long version: Still just the four of us. I made bread this day, so it seemed like a good idea to have sandwiches with some of the fresh bread.

Brownies are now apparently the tradition when A. is gone. It's a popular tradition.

Sunday

Short version: Beef tacos with homemade tortillas, Mexican slaw, mashed pumpkin, baked apples with cream

Long version: The return of the hunters, and also the return of full dinners. I made the taco meat with ground beef and green chiles, and I made the tortillas particularly as a treat for Cubby, who loves homemade corn tortillas, but won't even eat the storebought ones when we have tacos.

A. told me that Cubby suffered from not having Mom's cooking while they were hunting, even though I did actually send them a hobo pack for each night, consisting of potatoes and hamburgers.

Apparently, Cubby needs regular meals, unlike his father. Guess he'd better really practice that cooking, because he's in for a shock when he leaves home in eight years or so.

Monday

Short version: Meat+rice+cheese, cucumber slices

Long version: I had a few cups of taco meat left, with which I made my standard combination. Except I only had about a cup of raw rice left, so it was kind of heavy on the meat. No complaints, though.

Tuesday

Short version: Elk medallions, mashed potatoes, sauteed mushrooms and onions, frozen green beans, watermelon

Long version: Because I had to be at work on Monday and the elk meat really couldn't wait any longer, A. did all the packaging and freezing of it. He left one bag of meat in the refrigerator, which included the tenderloins. I sliced those into medallions and fried them, making a very quick sauce at the end with apple cider vinegar and butter.

The meat was very tender, but VERY gamy. Like, the strongest tasting meat I have ever cooked. Charlie and I were not such fans, but everyone else took seconds. Or even thirds, in Poppy's case.

And bonus: A. told the kids that eating that strong meat would make them strong, which I reminded Jack of when he had to get his flu shot at school the next day. I told him he was probably so strong now that he wouldn't even feel the shot or cry at all. He didn't, and then spent the rest of the day telling everyone that he didn't cry when he got his shot because of the elk meat. Heh.

The watermelon was a huge one that Rafael brought to us because he and and his wife couldn't begin to finish it. It was grown by a friend of his about sixty miles away, and it's the best one we've had so far.

Wednesday

Short version: Italian elk roast, pesto bread, carrot sticks, watermelon

Long version: I remembered when I was cooking dinner Tuesday that I had a 4-H meeting with the kids Wednesday and probably wouldn't be home until almost 6 p.m. The bag of elk meat A. had left in the refrigerator also had a roast in it, so I browned that while I was making Tuesday's dinner, then added a lot of garlic, salt, pepper, oregano, and basil, plus the remainder of a can of tomatoes in the refrigerator.

It sat in the refrigerator overnight, and I put it in a 300 degree oven at 7 a.m. Wednesday morning, with instructions to A. to turn the oven off at noon. He did, and all I did when I got home was put it on the stove to heat up a bit more. This cut was much less gamy than the tenderloins, thankfully.

The pesto bread was just thick slices of bread with butter and the last bit of pesto left from the week before, stuck under the broiler until they were crispy.

Thursday

Short version: Chicken tacos with homemade tortillas, pinto beans, yet more watermelon

Long version: My sister arrived this day, and guests mean either tacos or pizza. Or both, depending on how long they stay. I went with tacos first, so every member of my family has had the opportunity to eat tortillas made on my dad's tortilla press.

While I was making the tortillas, Cubby and Charlie were outside playing with their new heavy-duty utility wagon, Unfortunately, Poppy decided she wanted to play, too, which resulted in her coming in the house crying with an enormous goose egg on her forehead.


Portrait of a small girl with three older brothers.

That bag of frozen peas fixed her right up, though, and she went right back outside.

We alllllmost finished the watermelon, but not quite. Not that it matters, as we have another at least as big waiting for us to eat that Rafael also gave us.


And there it is, hanging out with the squash in A.'s office.

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

Tuesday, October 15, 2019

Shot Him an Elk When He Was Only Nine


Warning: Dead animal photo ahead. 

An interesting thing about the state of New Mexico is that there is no minimum hunting age. And that is why nine-year-old Cubby--who completed his hunter education course just this spring--was able to enter his own name in for the elk draw this year. And draw a tag for a mature bull elk in a hunting area about two hours from here.

Now. Some things you should know about this place where he got his tag. It is a mountain. It is a high mountain. It is a high, remote, cold mountain with no road going up it.

The prospect of taking a nine-year-old hunting on a mountain in October on a hunt that would require camping, hiking several miles, and packing out hundreds of pounds of meat in the event of Cubby actually shooting an elk would probably seem ridiculous to most men.

Luckily for Cubby, his father is not most men. A. was all, "He drew for that mountain, and he's going to hunt that mountain."

On a positive note, more than one person told A. that that area is the best for elk in the entire state, and because A. and Cubby were planning on hiking in about five miles, they were unlikely to see any other hunters.

They scouted the mountain a couple of weeks ago and found that our Honda won't go to the top of the track that goes part of the way up, so that meant that they would have to hike in from fairly far down. And since they were going to be camping up there, that meant they had to carry all their gear on their backs all the way.

Because it was dry the weekend of the hunt, A. decided to do without a tent. But because it was cold--well below freezing--he brought two sleeping bags for Cubby and one for him, plus wool blankets. His pack was incredibly heavy just with the bedding, ammunition, and other sundry things. That meant that Cubby carried all the food in his pack.

They hiked in six miles to their first campsite.


See those two teeny tiny peaks way in the distance? They went to the top of the one on the right. Insane.

Luckily for them, my brother--who is also an experienced hunter--was able to fly into Albuquerque and meet them at the mountain for the hunt. I felt much better having another adult there, just in case, and A. felt a lot better having another adult there to help him pack out the meat, just in case. Also, my brother took all the photos.


Like this cool one with the moon in the background.

It was a strenuous, physical hunt, with a lot of hiking and stalking and crawling around in the underbrush. They camped out for two nights and hunted all day Saturday with no success. But first thing Sunday morning . . .


Victory.

Cubby shot that elk right through the heart, a perfect shot, from 35 yards away.

Then the real fun began, as A. gutted, skinned, and boned out the meat at high speed so he and my brother could pack it all the way back to the car. They carried their own packs with all the gear they packed in, along with a game bag of meat weighing approximately one hundred pounds. Each. Five miles.

Do you know how brutal that is? So brutal. And Cubby carried the elk's rack on his own pack, which is a not-insignificant weight when you only weigh 70 pounds yourself.

They made it, though, and we now have about a thousand dollars worth of meat in our freezer and one very, very proud young hunter.

Maybe not as dramatic as Davy Crockett's bear when he was only three, but pretty damn good for nine years old.