In my sister's 1955 Girl Scout handbook are nine proficiency badges listed under Agriculture -- Animal Raiser, Beekeeper, Dairying, Farmer, Fruit Raiser, Home Gardener, Landscaper, Poultry Raiser, and Truck Gardener. With the rise of backyard chicken coops, knowing how to candle an egg is regaining importance. But knowing the difference, in females, between a calf, a heifer, and a cow, and the quantity and type of feed for each? Not so much. I haven't seen many backyard Bessie's.
As in the general society, Girl Scouts are returning to the land. One of the new badges is Locavore. Girls will become knowledgeable on everything from the business of food to what’s in season in their area. Eating local and in season tends to be cheaper and better for the environment. If the produce is trucked in from a farm three counties away rather than a country in the other hemisphere, you'll save money because you won't be paying for all the various modes of transportation between farm and table. Less transportation means less pollution. It's a win-win. Even better would be just walking out your back door and harvesting your own turnips. But back to the Girl Scouts...
To earn the Locavore badge, five steps are required:
1. Explore the benefits and challenges of going local
2. Find your local food sources
3. Cook a simple dish showcasing local ingredients
4. Make a recipe with local ingredients
5. Try a local cooking challenge.
Each of the steps includes specific challenges such as interviewing chefs who specialize in locally grown foods, taking a favorite recipe and making it local, or, for the local cooking challenge, preparing a three-course meal based on local ingredients.
The Girl Scouts are returning to our roots. Think it's easy? I challenge YOU to the five badge requirements. I'll participate as well and report back with my progress. Can YOU earn the Girl Scouts Locavore badge?
Showing posts with label Eating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eating. Show all posts
6.11.11
5.11.11
Seven Ways to Leave Your Lover
Some people are better at breaking people's hearts than others. Kim Kardashian comes to mind; she of 72 days. Or Britney Spears; she of 55 hours. But even people still stuck in dating mode sometimes do a piss-poor job of ending things. The best approach is to just tell the other person.
If you live in New York City, Zagat's has come up with a list of the best places to break the news.
If you live in New York City, Zagat's has come up with a list of the best places to break the news.
"BierHaus: One cardinal rule for restaurant/bar break-ups is to choose a place where you will never return in case things get ugly (and they will). Luckily, one evening at this Bavarian-style hall is enough to last twelve lifetimes (even sans a runny-nosed dining partner). It’s so loud that no one around you will be able to hear you say things like, “It’s not you; it’s me,” and “You have horrible taste in pants.” Live polka music versions of classics like Total Eclipse of the Heart mean there’s no danger you’ll be staying a second longer than necessary. Plus you can order your beer in a two liter boot, and no one can get that mad at someone drinking out of a plastic shoe.[Title taken from this.]
"Go here: If you don’t care whether your ex never speaks to you again (712 Third Ave.; 212-867-2337).
"California Pizza Kitchen: This immense chainlet is as un-New York as you can get, which is good if you want to avoid memories of your first kiss on the Highline, first Valentine’s Day at One If By Land, Two if by Sea and first fight at Gristedes. Other pluses include well-spaced out tables that will prevent strangers from silently judging, teenaged servers who will be too terrified by the ugly crying to ask whether you need another apple martini and bright lighting that will ensure you don’t rethink your decision.
"Go here: If you’re afraid you might wimp out and need the soundtrack of shrieking children to strengthen your resolve. And if you love a good BBQ chicken pie (440 Park Avenue South; 212-685-6700).
"Jekyll & Hyde: Unless up till this point your relationship has existed in Second Life only, odds are the second you propose this place, your soon-to-be ex is going to know something is up. But if you’re expecting over-the-top hysterics, dining among animatronics and freaky servers who say creepy things might be your safest bet. Good luck to you.
"Go here: If you foresee danger and want to make absolutely certain you won’t know a single person inside (1409 Avenue of the Americas; 212-541-9505).
"Beauty and Essex: Though this trendy LES hotspot might seem a curious choice – it’s filled with people who aren’t miserable, its menu is geared toward sharing and it’s not exactly wallet-friendly – it still has a lot going for it: the dark lighting means potential break downs won’t be on full display, you can soften a difficult conversation with a variety of delicious cocktails and the civilized environs may keep things, well, civilized. Plus, the ladies room has free champagne, which is good whether you’re the dumper or dumpee.
"Go here: If you’re a multitasker and want to meet someone new the same night (146 Essex St.; 212-614-0146).
"Tortilla Flats: Avoiding romantic places is another break-up rule. Enter this Village cantina with its kitschy interior, bachelorette parties galore (caution: this is bad idea when breaking up with a fiancé) and premade vat of margaritas. Sensitive choice it isn’t, but between the hula hoop contests, sauced clientele and chimichangas, there’s no way a serious conversation can survive.
"Go here: If you have a mortal fear of other people’s tears or if you can really rock a hula hoop after emotional distress (767 Washington St.; 212-243-1053).
"Balthazar: When your emotions are running more red-hot than blue and you want to break up in spectacular fashion, head to this always-crowded SoHo brasserie where throwing a martini in your ex’s face and storming out is guaranteed an audience. For maximum embarrassment, stage your performance before the check comes so your ex has to stay there and pay the bill.
"Go here: If you are mad and want revenge, Sex and the City-style (80 Spring St.; 212-965-1785).
"Starbucks: For a simple, no-frills solution, we suggest firing up your laptop, ordering your favorite coffee drink and sending an email. No muss, no fuss.
"Go here: If you met online and have been on less than seven dates. Or, you are a spineless robot coward. Note to spineless robots, don't think you can plug yourself in and sit at that table all day. People are waiting!"
25.9.11
Fortune $500 Added Benefits
Mr. Gaelic gets paid $5 to walk the dog for 30 minutes. Actually, there doesn't have to be a dog in the picture. Or anything else except some form of exercise for 30 minutes and his office will pay him $5.
They also give him $35 for going to his annual physical, $25 for going to the dentist. But it's not paid in cash. It's paid in gift cards. Yet there's a cap of $240 a year that he can earn.
He then can use the gift cards at a number of approved vendors from Amazon to Zappos.com. All part of his company's encouragement of their employees to be healthy. His well-being reward.
What about the rest of us? We exercise and eat healthy and visit our doctors and dentists. Why can't our companies pay us in Best Buy gift cards?
One of the vendors is a national grocery chain that sells mostly organic foods. So, let me see if I have this right. You work for a Fortune 500 company. They pay you to be healthy. Then you can use your rewards to buy organic food to be even healthier. Because you are healthier, you miss fewer days from work. Increased productivity all for as little as $240 worth of gift cards a year for being healthy.
Don't let it be forgotten that exercising also leads to fewer stress-related diseases and less depression. Aha! Happier worker bees! Happy. Healthy. Productive.
Where's the justice? How can the rest of us get such added benefits?
They also give him $35 for going to his annual physical, $25 for going to the dentist. But it's not paid in cash. It's paid in gift cards. Yet there's a cap of $240 a year that he can earn.
He then can use the gift cards at a number of approved vendors from Amazon to Zappos.com. All part of his company's encouragement of their employees to be healthy. His well-being reward.
What about the rest of us? We exercise and eat healthy and visit our doctors and dentists. Why can't our companies pay us in Best Buy gift cards?
One of the vendors is a national grocery chain that sells mostly organic foods. So, let me see if I have this right. You work for a Fortune 500 company. They pay you to be healthy. Then you can use your rewards to buy organic food to be even healthier. Because you are healthier, you miss fewer days from work. Increased productivity all for as little as $240 worth of gift cards a year for being healthy.
Don't let it be forgotten that exercising also leads to fewer stress-related diseases and less depression. Aha! Happier worker bees! Happy. Healthy. Productive.
Where's the justice? How can the rest of us get such added benefits?
14.6.11
Bring Me a Dream
This was supposed to be another installment in the 30 Day Challenge. But a nice full belly and a set of clean sheets later and this gal is headed off on a date with Mr. Sandman.
7.6.11
Aren't They Lovely?
What would you need to know about someone to switch places with them for a day? The great thing about the loss of privacy in the past 40 years is so much is known about so many people that there is not a single person I would want to switch places with today. In all of history is a different matter entirely.
The sixth day of the 30 Day Non-Facebook Prose-Instead-of-Pictures Challenge delves into the question, but doesn't limit the answer to someone alive today. In case you missed any, the last three challenges were:
4.A picture of your favorite night - Check
5.A picture of your favorite memory - Check
6.A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day - This is it
It's a good thing this is my Prose-Instead-of-Picture Challenge. There are two people I'd love to switch places with for a day. The problem is no picture exists of either of which I'm aware.
The first would be my 11th great-grandmother, Mary Horsemanden Byrd. She was only two years older than I am now when she died on November 9, 1699. To know how people lived back then, the mundane stuff, the boring! How exciting that would be! Yes, it's official. I am weird. I get excited over boring details like what she ate for breakfast or drank with supper or how she put her children to bed at night. Why her and not any of my other ancestors? With her, things are tangible. I've walked the banks of the river that she called home, put flowers on her grave, read her husband's diary. For someone 400 years gone, she has a real presence in my life.
The other person from history to switch places with? Her presence in my life has lingered as a question of who she was and what motivated a simple act of kindness. Her name is unknown to me. As is the town she lived in or when she was born or whether she had children. All that is known to me is that on December 24, 1944, she offered an American soldier supper and took him to church. From old memories, I feel certain she was married and might have had children. But those stories weren't recorded except as tales told at my childhood bedside. For one day (Christmas Eve of 1944) I would like to be that woman in the French countryside. The one who offered hospitality to my daddy.
[Title taken from this.]
The sixth day of the 30 Day Non-Facebook Prose-Instead-of-Pictures Challenge delves into the question, but doesn't limit the answer to someone alive today. In case you missed any, the last three challenges were:
4.A picture of your favorite night - Check
5.A picture of your favorite memory - Check
6.A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day - This is it
It's a good thing this is my Prose-Instead-of-Picture Challenge. There are two people I'd love to switch places with for a day. The problem is no picture exists of either of which I'm aware.
The first would be my 11th great-grandmother, Mary Horsemanden Byrd. She was only two years older than I am now when she died on November 9, 1699. To know how people lived back then, the mundane stuff, the boring! How exciting that would be! Yes, it's official. I am weird. I get excited over boring details like what she ate for breakfast or drank with supper or how she put her children to bed at night. Why her and not any of my other ancestors? With her, things are tangible. I've walked the banks of the river that she called home, put flowers on her grave, read her husband's diary. For someone 400 years gone, she has a real presence in my life.
The other person from history to switch places with? Her presence in my life has lingered as a question of who she was and what motivated a simple act of kindness. Her name is unknown to me. As is the town she lived in or when she was born or whether she had children. All that is known to me is that on December 24, 1944, she offered an American soldier supper and took him to church. From old memories, I feel certain she was married and might have had children. But those stories weren't recorded except as tales told at my childhood bedside. For one day (Christmas Eve of 1944) I would like to be that woman in the French countryside. The one who offered hospitality to my daddy.
[Title taken from this.]
25.2.11
Getting Something Off My Chest
My promise to Tim rings hollow today - this blog isn't a follow-up to his nominating me for the Stylish Blog Award as it was supposed to be. No pie-crust promise this time, Tim! The next blog *will* be in response to the Stylish Blog Award.
Today, there's just something I have to get off my chest. Uh-um... Out of my chest? Oh, bad pun (you'll understand after reading the entire blog). Someone please, for god's sake, get the image out of my head!
The Gaelic family is adventurous when it comes to food. Deirdre adores Brussels sprouts. Finola has eaten venison, buffalo, and elk. I tried rattlesnake once, frog legs a couple of times, and alligator on several occasions. Yes, even Rocky Mountain Oysters. There is a beef liver, tongue and heart in my freezer waiting to be cooked up in a hearty dish. But there are limits.
Raw oysters never cross my lips anymore following an experience with a bad one many years ago. Mr. G and I had some bad sea urchin once, never again. And that Japanese fish that's poisonous? No thank you.
Now comes news of things that really turn the stomach. Especially two pieces of news this past week.
In a small town in New Zealand is an annual food festival that in past years has served up such "delicacies" as wasp larvae ice cream and deep-fried huhu grubs. This year the craze will be shots of strawberry-, chocolate-, or vanilla-flavored horse semen. Yes, you read that correctly. Horse baby gravy. Claims are that it tastes like a milkshake.
On the other end of the spectrum (in every literal sense) is news from England of a new ice cream flavor - Baby Gaga. Made with Madagascan vanilla pods and lemon zest, it's said to be very rich and creamy. Rich and creamy? You be the judge of that. It's made with free-range human breast milk! But this free-range human won't be volunteering to help produce or consume it. And I have better ideas for Madagascan vanilla pods.
There are just some things I draw the line at. Horse semen shots and breast-milk ice cream are two of them.
Today, there's just something I have to get off my chest. Uh-um... Out of my chest? Oh, bad pun (you'll understand after reading the entire blog). Someone please, for god's sake, get the image out of my head!
The Gaelic family is adventurous when it comes to food. Deirdre adores Brussels sprouts. Finola has eaten venison, buffalo, and elk. I tried rattlesnake once, frog legs a couple of times, and alligator on several occasions. Yes, even Rocky Mountain Oysters. There is a beef liver, tongue and heart in my freezer waiting to be cooked up in a hearty dish. But there are limits.
Raw oysters never cross my lips anymore following an experience with a bad one many years ago. Mr. G and I had some bad sea urchin once, never again. And that Japanese fish that's poisonous? No thank you.
Now comes news of things that really turn the stomach. Especially two pieces of news this past week.
In a small town in New Zealand is an annual food festival that in past years has served up such "delicacies" as wasp larvae ice cream and deep-fried huhu grubs. This year the craze will be shots of strawberry-, chocolate-, or vanilla-flavored horse semen. Yes, you read that correctly. Horse baby gravy. Claims are that it tastes like a milkshake.
On the other end of the spectrum (in every literal sense) is news from England of a new ice cream flavor - Baby Gaga. Made with Madagascan vanilla pods and lemon zest, it's said to be very rich and creamy. Rich and creamy? You be the judge of that. It's made with free-range human breast milk! But this free-range human won't be volunteering to help produce or consume it. And I have better ideas for Madagascan vanilla pods.
There are just some things I draw the line at. Horse semen shots and breast-milk ice cream are two of them.
11.1.11
And Now For Something Completely Different
I should have gone back to the paid workforce years ago. In the eight days since I began working, I've lost three pounds. No exercising. No dieting. Just working.
My theory: There's no kitchen to walk through and nosh all day. There's no snack time for me when the kids get home from school. There's no drive-thru Mickey D's, either. Which was, is, and (hopefully not always) will be my downfall.
My theory: There's no kitchen to walk through and nosh all day. There's no snack time for me when the kids get home from school. There's no drive-thru Mickey D's, either. Which was, is, and (hopefully not always) will be my downfall.
9.1.11
Menu Plan: January 10 - January 16
In actuality it may have been only a week since the last menu plan was posted. It feels like two weeks. In the intervening seven days, my first experience in the paid workforce in many years began; my boss was sworn in as a freshman Member of Congress; another congressman and a senator both called me by name and hugged me in front of my coworkers; and I met another congressman who went to high school with my brother-in-law. Additionally, my New Year’s Resolution of cutting back on fast food for lunch is intact. And finally, a congresswoman from Arizona was shot at an official public event which killed at least one of her staffers.
Welcome to the life of a public servant.
The only rub is actually preparing a nutritious supper for the children, Mr. Gaelic, and me. The plan that I so diligently worked on last weekend in preparation for the first week on the job fell to pieces on Wednesday. Maybe working 52 hours this week had something to do with it. Wednesday and Thursday evenings ended up not with supper but with falling into bed two hours before my usual bedtime.
Lunches on the other hand ended up being much healthier than my usual fast food drive-thru. Truth be told, the plans for sack lunches fell apart Sunday evening when they weren’t prepared ahead of time. Instead, the cafeteria in my building has a variety of vegetables sides that end up being afterthoughts for most folks.
Here is this week’s plan.
Welcome to the life of a public servant.
The only rub is actually preparing a nutritious supper for the children, Mr. Gaelic, and me. The plan that I so diligently worked on last weekend in preparation for the first week on the job fell to pieces on Wednesday. Maybe working 52 hours this week had something to do with it. Wednesday and Thursday evenings ended up not with supper but with falling into bed two hours before my usual bedtime.
Lunches on the other hand ended up being much healthier than my usual fast food drive-thru. Truth be told, the plans for sack lunches fell apart Sunday evening when they weren’t prepared ahead of time. Instead, the cafeteria in my building has a variety of vegetables sides that end up being afterthoughts for most folks.
Here is this week’s plan.
- Monday
- Breakfast: oatmeal
- Lunch: cafeteria meal
- Supper: uhhhh…
- Tuesday
- Breakfast: cereal
- Lunch: cafeteria meal
- Supper: hmmm…
- Wednesday
- Breakfast: soft boiled eggs, toast
- Lunch: cafeteria meal
- Supper: to be determined…
- Thursday
- Breakfast: cream of wheat
- Lunch: cafeteria meal
- Supper: no earthly idea…
- Friday
- Breakfast: cinnamon toast
- Lunch: cafeteria meal
- Supper: pint of ice cream or popcorn???
- Saturday
- Breakfast: sausage, eggs, grits, toast
- Lunch: tomato soup, grilled cheese sandwiches
- Supper: let’s just stand in front of the freezer until something comes to mind
- Sunday
- Breakfast: waffles, sausage
- Dinner: roast chicken, carrots, green beans
- Supper: can we have tomato soup and grilled cheese again???
7.1.11
2.1.11
Menu Plan: January 3 - January 9
Now that my dirty little secret isn't so secret anymore, perhaps the menu plans will include lunch. My dirty little secret? Fast-food drive-thru for lunch. As a full-time mother for the last 15 years, I fell into the habit of eating fast food while out running errands. Eating in the car between stops meant more efficiency. But at the expense of my waistline, and maybe my health.
Starting an office job tomorrow means either taking my lunch or eating in the cafeteria. At least for the first week. Mr. Gaelic suggested getting away from the office for lunch. It's good to have a change of scenery.
So, for Laoch and Gail, here is an attempt at eating a clean lunch.
Truth be told, I have mixed emotions about my new job. I'm excited to be back in the political world of Capitol Hill. At the same time, I'm anxious about the logistics of latch-key kids, wholesome suppers, and running errands. Heaven help me.
Almighty God, whose Son Jesus Christ in his earthly life
shared our toil and hallowed our labor: Be present with
thy people where they work; make those who carry on
the industries and commerce of this land responsive to thy
will; and give to us all a pride in what we do, and a just
return for our labor; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who
liveth and reigneth with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever. Amen. (BCP, p. 208)
Starting an office job tomorrow means either taking my lunch or eating in the cafeteria. At least for the first week. Mr. Gaelic suggested getting away from the office for lunch. It's good to have a change of scenery.
So, for Laoch and Gail, here is an attempt at eating a clean lunch.
- Monday
- Breakfast: cream of wheat
- Lunch: ham and Swiss on sourdough, chips, apple, 2 chocolate pieces
- Supper: chef's surprise (Finola is still home from college and will cook)
- Tuesday
- Breakfast: cereal
- Lunch: turkey and provolone on spelt, chips, clementine, 2 chocolate pieces
- Supper: beef Stroganov (Deirdre's specialty since she will cook)
- Wednesday
- Breakfast: soft boiled eggs, toast
- Lunch: office reception (it's Swearing-In day for the 112th Congress)
- Supper: kidney beans, fried okra, kale
- Thursday
- Breakfast: oatmeal
- Lunch: ham and Swiss on spelt, chips, banana, 2 chocolate pieces
- Supper: vegetable soup, homemade bread (probably overly ambitious but we'll see)
- Friday
- Breakfast: cinnamon toast
- Lunch: turkey and provolone on sourdough, chips, apple, 2 chocolate pieces
- Supper: dinner out to celebrate the first week on the job
- Saturday
- Breakfast: sausage, eggs, grits, toast
- Lunch: leftover soup
- Supper: steak, baked potato
- Sunday
- Breakfast: waffles, sausage
- Dinner: chicken 'n' dumplin's, broccoli, carrots
- Supper: PB&J sandwiches, chips
Truth be told, I have mixed emotions about my new job. I'm excited to be back in the political world of Capitol Hill. At the same time, I'm anxious about the logistics of latch-key kids, wholesome suppers, and running errands. Heaven help me.
Almighty God, whose Son Jesus Christ in his earthly life
shared our toil and hallowed our labor: Be present with
thy people where they work; make those who carry on
the industries and commerce of this land responsive to thy
will; and give to us all a pride in what we do, and a just
return for our labor; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who
liveth and reigneth with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever. Amen. (BCP, p. 208)
31.12.10
The Resolutionary
Every year at this time people decide to make their New Year's resolutions. A lot are too ambitious. "I'm going to run in a marathon every month." A lot are too vague. "I'm going to lose weight." Some are un-doable. "I'm giving up homework."
Every year my gym is flooded with new resolutionaries from January through March. March seems to be when most people give up their New Year's resolution to get in shape, lose weight, and go to the gym every day. Come March, there is no longer a wait for the treadmills.
This year, I'm doing the opposite. My gym membership was one of the first things to go when a job offer came my way. Until I have a better grasp on what my schedule will be like, there was no sense in paying a monthly membership. And besides, once the weather improves (I'm such a weather wimp when it comes to exercising outside), the National Mall from the Capitol to the Washington Monument between the Smithsonian museum buildings will be my treadmill.
This year's resolution will be something more attainable. Once, after posting the weekly menu, Laoch asked me why I never included lunch on the menu plan. The kids eat at school and Mr. Gaelic eats at work. He likes to get out of his office for a while and doesn't take his lunch for that reason. What I didn't tell Laoch was that I eat on the run. My lunch is usually a fast-food drive-thru. For all my cooking clean at the house, I eat trash for lunch.
But this year! This year, with the help of a full-time office job, I resolve to eat fast-food no more than three times a week. It helps that there is a cafeteria in the office building.
Now, if only it were that easy for Mr. G. He resolved to exercise at least 30 minutes once a week. He can always lace up his running shoes and meet me halfway on the Mall. Yes? We'll see.
Every year my gym is flooded with new resolutionaries from January through March. March seems to be when most people give up their New Year's resolution to get in shape, lose weight, and go to the gym every day. Come March, there is no longer a wait for the treadmills.
This year, I'm doing the opposite. My gym membership was one of the first things to go when a job offer came my way. Until I have a better grasp on what my schedule will be like, there was no sense in paying a monthly membership. And besides, once the weather improves (I'm such a weather wimp when it comes to exercising outside), the National Mall from the Capitol to the Washington Monument between the Smithsonian museum buildings will be my treadmill.
This year's resolution will be something more attainable. Once, after posting the weekly menu, Laoch asked me why I never included lunch on the menu plan. The kids eat at school and Mr. Gaelic eats at work. He likes to get out of his office for a while and doesn't take his lunch for that reason. What I didn't tell Laoch was that I eat on the run. My lunch is usually a fast-food drive-thru. For all my cooking clean at the house, I eat trash for lunch.
But this year! This year, with the help of a full-time office job, I resolve to eat fast-food no more than three times a week. It helps that there is a cafeteria in the office building.
Now, if only it were that easy for Mr. G. He resolved to exercise at least 30 minutes once a week. He can always lace up his running shoes and meet me halfway on the Mall. Yes? We'll see.
14.11.10
Menu Plan: November 15 - November 21
If you've ever been to Five Guys Burgers & Fries, you know that they serve roasted peanuts from a box while you wait for your order. I treated the kids to lunch recently at our local Five Guys. We got a serving of peanuts to shell at the table. After finishing our hamburgers, there were still some peanuts on our table. Just scoop them into the bag with the leftover fries.
They're fun to snack on. But it gave me a hankering for boiled peanuts. Those slimy, squishy, good-when-hot-but-yuck-when-not snacks. Most often they're found at roadside stands in the American rural South. They are definitely an acquired taste.
Yes, it's an established fact that I'm weird. Just deal with it. In other foodie news, here's this week's menu plan.
Please don't send me boiled peanuts for Christmas. They're best eaten hot and fresh. Just like Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts. But that's another blog entirely.
They're fun to snack on. But it gave me a hankering for boiled peanuts. Those slimy, squishy, good-when-hot-but-yuck-when-not snacks. Most often they're found at roadside stands in the American rural South. They are definitely an acquired taste.
Yes, it's an established fact that I'm weird. Just deal with it. In other foodie news, here's this week's menu plan.
- Monday
- Breakfast: banana bread
- Supper: take-out/delivery (afternoon teacher conferences + evening ballet class = no time to cook [slow cooker on the blink])
- Tuesday
- Breakfast: cereal
- Supper: meatloaf, mashed potatoes, carrots (save some potatoes for Friday)
- Wednesday
- Breakfast: oatmeal
- Supper: baked eggs, salad, homemade bread
- Thursday
- Breakfast: blueberry muffins
- Supper: baked mac and cheese, creamed spinach, beets in orange sauce
- Friday
- Breakfast: soft-boiled eggs, toast
- Supper: butternut squash soup, homemade potato bread (use left-over potatoes)
- Saturday
- Breakfast: pancakes, sausage
- Supper: pizza for girls, Mr. Gaelic and I are headed to a party for our friends' daughter who is in graduate school in London and will be home for the holidays
- Sunday
- Breakfast: bacon, eggs, grits, toast
- Dinner: potluck (need to clean out the fridge and freezer in anticipation of Thanksgiving)
Please don't send me boiled peanuts for Christmas. They're best eaten hot and fresh. Just like Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts. But that's another blog entirely.
7.11.10
Menu Plan: November 8 - November 14
Having exhausted all my ideas on why my photos won't properly upload on Blogger, there are no pictures of the cake we took with us to the Murder Mystery Party last night. (And no pictures of Thing 1 or Thing 2, either, for those of you who asked.)
It's a flourless cake. Just three ingredients - 1/2 pound of unsalted butter, 1 pound of bittersweet chocolate, and 6 eggs. My preference of bittersweet chocolate is Valhrona Amer, which is 71% cocoa. It's like the Darth Vader of chocolate. Beware the Dark Side!
To cut through the richness, my choice of accompanying sauce is a raspberry puree. Again, three total ingredients - raspberries, lemon juice, and superfine sugar (not powdered). Because only the raspberry juice is boiled down, not the pulp, it retains a fresher, tarter taste. And the dark red against the dark brown almost black looks so cool.
Even though another couple brought a cleverly decorated cake, mine tasted better. Rolled fondant takes so much time that the red velvet cake underneath was a bit on the dry side. My one attempt at a fondant cake wasn't as moist as most of my cakes. But the hand-painted fondant flowers were really memorable. (It's was Mr. Gaelic's birthday cake the first year we were married.)
But enough about desserts.
My budding chef. Following in her sisters', and mother's, and father's footsteps.
It's a flourless cake. Just three ingredients - 1/2 pound of unsalted butter, 1 pound of bittersweet chocolate, and 6 eggs. My preference of bittersweet chocolate is Valhrona Amer, which is 71% cocoa. It's like the Darth Vader of chocolate. Beware the Dark Side!
To cut through the richness, my choice of accompanying sauce is a raspberry puree. Again, three total ingredients - raspberries, lemon juice, and superfine sugar (not powdered). Because only the raspberry juice is boiled down, not the pulp, it retains a fresher, tarter taste. And the dark red against the dark brown almost black looks so cool.
Even though another couple brought a cleverly decorated cake, mine tasted better. Rolled fondant takes so much time that the red velvet cake underneath was a bit on the dry side. My one attempt at a fondant cake wasn't as moist as most of my cakes. But the hand-painted fondant flowers were really memorable. (It's was Mr. Gaelic's birthday cake the first year we were married.)
But enough about desserts.
- Monday
- Breakfast: carrot-raisin muffins
- Supper: butternut squash soup, homemade potato bread
- Tuesday
- Breakfast: cereal (as always on Tuesdays)
- Supper: barbecued ribs, homemade white bread, sauce (Ask anyone who's ever tried Dreamland BBQ, it's the only way to eat ribs.)
- Wednesday
- Breakfast: soft-boiled eggs, toast
- Supper: fried okra, black-eyed peas, picked beets, spoon bread
- Thursday
- Breakfast: cereal (Veteran's Day = no school = sleep late)
- Supper: French onion soup, salad (Veteran's Day = remembering my daddy who landed on Normandy Beach on D+14 = French food)
- Friday
- Breakfast: English muffins, fig preserves or honey (We're currently out of Tupelo honey, so I'll poke around the condiment section for something interesting.)
- Supper: cheese soufflé, asparagus
- Saturday
- Breakfast: pancakes, bacon
- Supper: pizza for girls, Mr. Gaelic and I are headed to a party at church for major donors of a new grand piano
- Sunday
- Breakfast: sausage gravy, homemade biscuits
- Dinner: roast chicken, potatoes Anna, green beans
My budding chef. Following in her sisters', and mother's, and father's footsteps.
10.10.10
Menu Plan: October 11 - October 17
Food porn. Staring me right in the face. Lying smack dab in the middle of a half-price table at Barnes & Noble. And I couldn't pull my eyes away. Thoughts of lovingly placing the same dish on the table for my family kept me gazing at the cover photo. My mouth watered and my mind raced taking mental stock of all the necessary ingredients and whether they were on hand at home.
At the early morning farmers' market, we scored Brussels sprouts, onions, baby red potatoes, an end-of-season casaba melon, a pound of free-range bacon, a pound of buffalo stew meat, and a free reusable "green" bag from a political candidate that we can't vote for because he represents the county and not the city (weird jurisdictions mean that our cities and counties are entirely separate as opposed to other states where cities are in counties and under both jurisdictions). At the meat co-op, we bagged up three broilers, three stewing hens (the layers that are past their laying prime), two packs of pork ribs, three pounds of bacon (I forgot I had ordered bacon), and our Thanksgiving turkey (frozen, but I didn't want to run the risk of their selling out).
The meat co-op is all free-range, grass-fed meat. Beef, pork, chicken, turkey, eggs. Sometimes they work with neighboring like-minded farmers to supply duck, duck eggs, lamb, and rabbit. The co-op delivers every eight weeks, so stock up.
Then there are the last of the backyard crop. Carrots, onions that didn't "bulb", and a few beets.
Do I have enough to put together that gorgeous food porn I coveted? Let's try.
At the early morning farmers' market, we scored Brussels sprouts, onions, baby red potatoes, an end-of-season casaba melon, a pound of free-range bacon, a pound of buffalo stew meat, and a free reusable "green" bag from a political candidate that we can't vote for because he represents the county and not the city (weird jurisdictions mean that our cities and counties are entirely separate as opposed to other states where cities are in counties and under both jurisdictions). At the meat co-op, we bagged up three broilers, three stewing hens (the layers that are past their laying prime), two packs of pork ribs, three pounds of bacon (I forgot I had ordered bacon), and our Thanksgiving turkey (frozen, but I didn't want to run the risk of their selling out).
The meat co-op is all free-range, grass-fed meat. Beef, pork, chicken, turkey, eggs. Sometimes they work with neighboring like-minded farmers to supply duck, duck eggs, lamb, and rabbit. The co-op delivers every eight weeks, so stock up.
Then there are the last of the backyard crop. Carrots, onions that didn't "bulb", and a few beets.
Do I have enough to put together that gorgeous food porn I coveted? Let's try.
- Monday
- Breakfast: oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar
- Supper: meatloaf (need to use the ground beef in the freezer to make room for the turkey), creamed red potatoes, green beans
- Tuesday
- Breakfast: cereal (early morning meetings at the Company don't allow time for more)
- Supper: Peruvian stew with buffalo meat, hearty home-baked bread
- Wednesday
- Breakfast: English muffins, fig preserves or tupelo honey
- Supper: baked mac & cheese, Brussels sprouts, carrots, cornbread
- Thursday
- Breakfast: melon, Greek yogurt
- Supper: candied sweet potatoes, orange beets, creamed spinach, homemade dinner rolls (save half)
- Friday
- Breakfast: baked apples, toast
- Supper: moules (mussels) à la marinière, french fries, salad, baguettes (gotta have something to soak up the broth)
- Saturday
- Breakfast: pancakes, bacon
- Supper: Maeve's birthday party (finger sandwiches, carrot and celery sticks, cake, and homemade lemonade)
- Sunday
- Breakfast: bacon, eggs, grits, toast
- Dinner: coq au vin, quinoa pilaf, salad, dinner rolls (saved from Thursday)
7.10.10
Ready, Willing, and Table
When the boss invites you to join him and his wife for a play, you don't say no. When your husband calls to tell you of your evening's plans, you pull out the theatre-ready dress and heels and meet him downtown.
Mr. Boss is the managing partner of Mr. Gaelic's Fortune 100 employer. He regularly entertains clients which is how we came into the picture. A client cancelled on him at the last minute. Better than letting the seats sit empty, he offered them to Mr. Gaelic.
Mr. and Mrs. Boss would meet us in the theatre lobby 15 minutes before curtain. Why so late? Mr. Boss had to assist his daughter's hockey practice. To have Mr. Boss apologize to Mr. Gaelic for not being able to take us to dinner beforehand was quite humbling. Knowing that the big boss still makes it home to help with hockey practice is priceless. The Company really tries to be family friendly. And usually succeeds.
Not having dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Boss just meant that Mr. Gaelic and I would have a table and a conversation to ourselves. Dinner and a play. Not bad for an impromptu evening out.
Mr. Boss is the managing partner of Mr. Gaelic's Fortune 100 employer. He regularly entertains clients which is how we came into the picture. A client cancelled on him at the last minute. Better than letting the seats sit empty, he offered them to Mr. Gaelic.
Mr. and Mrs. Boss would meet us in the theatre lobby 15 minutes before curtain. Why so late? Mr. Boss had to assist his daughter's hockey practice. To have Mr. Boss apologize to Mr. Gaelic for not being able to take us to dinner beforehand was quite humbling. Knowing that the big boss still makes it home to help with hockey practice is priceless. The Company really tries to be family friendly. And usually succeeds.
Not having dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Boss just meant that Mr. Gaelic and I would have a table and a conversation to ourselves. Dinner and a play. Not bad for an impromptu evening out.
3.10.10
Menu Plan: October 4 - October 10
What heathens we are! We skipped church today. But our priest gave us special dispensation last night at a cocktail party raising funds for a new piano for the parish.
Mr. Gaelic was away on business this week. It was also Homecoming week at the high school. Deirdre was out every night as she was on the Homecoming committee. Friday night started the weekend with a bonfire at the high school which we were informed not to go to. Instead we headed next door to our neighbor's impromptu art gallery.
He's a closet artist and finally decided to show his work by turning his living room and dining room into an art gallery, complete with a tended bar on the front porch and signage with prices for the artwork.
The weekend continued early on Saturday with our First Annual Muffins and Mugs party. Everyone was instructed to bring their our mug. Our homebaked muffins included regular, blueberry, blueberry-corn, orange, lemon-poppy seed, bran, apple-gingerbread, banana-nut, carrot-raisin (using carrots from my garden), and chocolate-chocolate chip. Following our Saturday morning party was our neighborhood art festival. Then a quick shower before the cocktail party at the former ambassador's house and a stroll around downtown near the river. We still had to stay up to make sure that Deirdre got home safely from the Homecoming dance.
Thinking back on it makes me tired. Which is why we slept late, skipped church (with our priest's blessing), and took a car ride for two in the country. It was heaven. We rode through beautifully cool backroads stopping for things like farmers' markets and scenic overlooks. Now I need to work the fruit we bought into our menu. At least as afternoon snacks or in Mr. Gaelic's lunchbox.
Mr. Gaelic was away on business this week. It was also Homecoming week at the high school. Deirdre was out every night as she was on the Homecoming committee. Friday night started the weekend with a bonfire at the high school which we were informed not to go to. Instead we headed next door to our neighbor's impromptu art gallery.
He's a closet artist and finally decided to show his work by turning his living room and dining room into an art gallery, complete with a tended bar on the front porch and signage with prices for the artwork.
The weekend continued early on Saturday with our First Annual Muffins and Mugs party. Everyone was instructed to bring their our mug. Our homebaked muffins included regular, blueberry, blueberry-corn, orange, lemon-poppy seed, bran, apple-gingerbread, banana-nut, carrot-raisin (using carrots from my garden), and chocolate-chocolate chip. Following our Saturday morning party was our neighborhood art festival. Then a quick shower before the cocktail party at the former ambassador's house and a stroll around downtown near the river. We still had to stay up to make sure that Deirdre got home safely from the Homecoming dance.
Thinking back on it makes me tired. Which is why we slept late, skipped church (with our priest's blessing), and took a car ride for two in the country. It was heaven. We rode through beautifully cool backroads stopping for things like farmers' markets and scenic overlooks. Now I need to work the fruit we bought into our menu. At least as afternoon snacks or in Mr. Gaelic's lunchbox.
- Monday
- Breakfast: baked apple
- Supper: spaghetti, sala
- Tuesday
- Breakfast: cerea
- Supper: pinto beans, risotto with peas, baked acorn squash with maple syrup
- Wednesday
- Breakfast: cinnamon toas
- Supper: baked eggs, toasted baguettes (use only half a loaf), mesclun salad with pears, walnuts, and goat cheese
- Thursday
- Breakfast: cream of wheat (okay, okay, I know that's a brand name, but I was raised calling it that just as I learned Kleenex instead of facial tissue and Vaseline instead of petroleum jelly
- Supper: lentil soup, fresh home-baked bread
- Friday
- Breakfast: toast, fig preserve
- Supper: tuna casserole, salad
- Saturday
- Breakfast: whoopie waffles
- Supper: cassoulet, baguettes (other half of the loaf)
- Sunday
- Breakfast: sausage gravy, buttermilk biscuit
- Dinner: roast chicken, potatoes Anna, broccoli
26.9.10
Menu Plan: September 27 - October 3
Is next weekend really October? It can't be! It's still summer, isn't it? Around my neck of the woods, it certainly feels like summer. Not Indian summer but a continuation of summer with no reprieve. Our fair city broke records last week for temperature highs, and lows (the highest lows at night for this time of the year).
My figs are still ripening but there isn't enough to make another batch of fig preserves. I pulled up my tomato plants two weeks ago thinking fall and frost would be on the way. Those green tomatoes could have ripened on the vine. And my cool weather veggies were all burned to a withered crisp which means no late crop of collards, broccoli, or spinach.
This at a time when the dearth of veggies in the American diet has been everywhere recently. Health professionals have been trying to push the 5-a-day program for eating more fruits and veggies. In news reports in recent weeks have been stories about a campaign for baby carrots taking on junk food. In yesterday's New York Times was an article about how we Americans have (sort of) listened. We've turned to French fries to up our veggie intake. The article has a photo of a baby carrot vending machine next to a junk food vending machine. The baby carrot vending machines were even lampooned in last night's Weekend Update on Saturday Night Live (too recent for a video link).
So let's see if I can fit more fruits and vegetables into my family's menu this week.
My figs are still ripening but there isn't enough to make another batch of fig preserves. I pulled up my tomato plants two weeks ago thinking fall and frost would be on the way. Those green tomatoes could have ripened on the vine. And my cool weather veggies were all burned to a withered crisp which means no late crop of collards, broccoli, or spinach.
This at a time when the dearth of veggies in the American diet has been everywhere recently. Health professionals have been trying to push the 5-a-day program for eating more fruits and veggies. In news reports in recent weeks have been stories about a campaign for baby carrots taking on junk food. In yesterday's New York Times was an article about how we Americans have (sort of) listened. We've turned to French fries to up our veggie intake. The article has a photo of a baby carrot vending machine next to a junk food vending machine. The baby carrot vending machines were even lampooned in last night's Weekend Update on Saturday Night Live (too recent for a video link).
So let's see if I can fit more fruits and vegetables into my family's menu this week.
- Monday
- Breakfast: bagels with cream cheese
- Supper: potluck (Maeve's ballet, Deirdre's Girl Scout press event, Mr. Gaelic's weather delay from work [rain in the forecast means no motorcycle ride to work which means public transportation])
- Tuesday
- Breakfast: cereal
- Supper: whole baked cabbage (cabbage left over from last week's borscht)
- Wednesday
- Breakfast: grapefruit halves, toast
- Supper: baked mac & cheese, fried okra, honeyed carrots
- Thursday
- Breakfast: toast, fig preserves
- Supper: cheese soufflé, asparagus
- Friday
- Breakfast: oatmeal
- Supper: shrimp étouffée, rice, salad
- Saturday
- Breakfast: muffins, muffins, and more muffins (Muffins and Mugs [BYOM - bring your own mug] breakfast party we're throwing before our neighborhood arts festival)
- Supper: pizza for girls, dinner our for adults (fundraiser for new grand piano at our church)
- Sunday
- Breakfast: bacon, eggs, grits, toast
- Dinner: pot roast, roast potatoes, sugar peas
19.9.10
Menu Plan: September 20 - September 26
Oops! Sometimes my best laid plans go awry. Take last week for instance. All those yummy meals that were planned, not all of them came to fruition. Why? Scheduling difficulty. I forgot to plan for the Back-to-School night and the late ballet class for Maeve and the nights that Mr. Gaelic either worked late or had client dinners.
So this week's menu selection will be repeating some of those suppers that didn't get made last week. The ingredients are all on hand and need to be used up before they go bad.
So this week's menu selection will be repeating some of those suppers that didn't get made last week. The ingredients are all on hand and need to be used up before they go bad.
- Monday
- Breakfast: choice of cereal
- Supper: borscht, homemade hearty bread (from last week's menu)
- Tuesday
- Breakfast: cinnamon toast, fruit salad
- Supper: pinto beans, risotto, orange beets (the garden overproduced beets)
- Wednesday
- Breakfast: cream of wheat
- Supper: stewed tomatoes, creamed spinach, corn pudding
- Thursday
- Breakfast: homemade cinnamon-raisin bread
- Supper: potluck (see what's left in fridge)
- Friday
- Breakfast: English muffins, fig preserves (just put up last Saturday)
- Supper: salmon patties, French fries
- Saturday
- Breakfast: omelet, bacon, toast
- Supper: Welsh rabbit, baked kale
- Sunday
- Breakfast: buttermilk biscuits, sausage gravy
- Dinner: roast chicken, sweet potatoes, green beans
15.9.10
Behind Every Successful Man is a Woman Who Won't Make Biscuits
It’s hard to look at a mass-produced biscuit when you’ve just enjoyed a homemade buttermilk biscuit. The first Sunday after Labor Day our parish gears up for the new program year with lunch immediately following the main service. It’s always the same – fried chicken wings and thighs (at least by the time I get to the front of the line that’s all there’s left), baked beans, potato salad, and biscuits. Those “biscuits” resemble hockey pucks.
On this particular welcome-home Sunday, Mr. Gaelic made buttermilk biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast. He’s the biscuit maker in the family. Biscuits aren’t my forte. That’s because they weren’t my mother’s either.
That’s because my father made the mistake early in their marriage of telling my mother that his mother’s biscuits were better than hers. She never made biscuits for him ever again. Ever! Every weekend he’d make biscuits. Because he wanted biscuits. And his biscuits were fabulous.
Mr. Gaelic heard the story of why my father was the biscuit maker in my family. A fast study he was. He never made the same mistake my father did of telling his wife (me) that his mother made anything better than I did. Actually, that’s because I’m a much better cook than she is, which he freely admits anywhere outside of his home state. A good Southern boy always tells his mama he loves her cooking, even if he gets fed better at home.
On this particular welcome-home Sunday, Mr. Gaelic made buttermilk biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast. He’s the biscuit maker in the family. Biscuits aren’t my forte. That’s because they weren’t my mother’s either.
That’s because my father made the mistake early in their marriage of telling my mother that his mother’s biscuits were better than hers. She never made biscuits for him ever again. Ever! Every weekend he’d make biscuits. Because he wanted biscuits. And his biscuits were fabulous.
Mr. Gaelic heard the story of why my father was the biscuit maker in my family. A fast study he was. He never made the same mistake my father did of telling his wife (me) that his mother made anything better than I did. Actually, that’s because I’m a much better cook than she is, which he freely admits anywhere outside of his home state. A good Southern boy always tells his mama he loves her cooking, even if he gets fed better at home.
12.9.10
Menu Plan: September 13 - September 19
Our city has several farmers markets, mostly on Saturday and Sunday, one on Wednesday. However we're surrounded by two counties that have a plethora of farmers markets, and better web designers. One of the counties has an online list of the markets by different days of the week, by location, and even by vendors. Pick your day, or whichever one is in the location of where else you might be on a particular day, or by which vendor carries whatever ingredient you need for your recipe.
I've been blowing right past the neighborhood farmers market on my way to the neighboring county's farmers market on Saturday mornings. The neighborhood market is quite small and the prices are higher than in the next county. Some of the same vendors have simultaneous booths at both markets, but better prices and selection in the next county.
Sunday is the day for a family meeting to discuss what everyone would like to eat during the coming week based on what's in season. The executive chef (moi) has veto power, as it should be. This is what will be on the table this week.
The roast gets thrown in the oven before heading out to church and the dough is left to rise next to the hot oven. Afterwards it doesn't take too long to finish everything up.
What's on your menu for the week?
I've been blowing right past the neighborhood farmers market on my way to the neighboring county's farmers market on Saturday mornings. The neighborhood market is quite small and the prices are higher than in the next county. Some of the same vendors have simultaneous booths at both markets, but better prices and selection in the next county.
Sunday is the day for a family meeting to discuss what everyone would like to eat during the coming week based on what's in season. The executive chef (moi) has veto power, as it should be. This is what will be on the table this week.
- Monday
- Breakfast: boiled eggs and toast
- Supper: baked ziti, salad
- Tuesday
- Breakfast: choice of cereal
- Supper: black-eyed peas, rice pilaf, orange beets, cornbread (double recipe, freeze one to use in Thanksgiving dressing)
- Wednesday
- Breakfast: homemade cinnamon-raisin bread
- Supper: borsht and hearty homemade bread (save half loaf)
- Thursday
- Breakfast: oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar
- Supper: Welch rabbit (use half loaf from Wednesday), steamed broccoli
- Friday
- Breakfast: bagels and cream cheese or cinnamon toast
- Supper: tuna casserole, salad
- Saturday
- Breakfast: bacon, choice of egg, grits, toast
- Supper: potluck (see what's left in fridge)
- Sunday
- Breakfast: waffles, sausage
- Dinner: pot roast, mashed potatoes, English peas, homemade dinner rolls
The roast gets thrown in the oven before heading out to church and the dough is left to rise next to the hot oven. Afterwards it doesn't take too long to finish everything up.
What's on your menu for the week?
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