Salsa Anyone?

Before heading to the grocery store every weekend, I clean out the fridge. If the leftovers are looking old, dry, icky, I cringe at wasting them and put them in the garbage. However, my goal is to salvage as much as possible and turn it into something the guys and I will happily nosh. Today that mission was accomplished for some left over slow cooker black beans with green chilis. I picked at these off and on all week, but no one else had touched them, so I knew they needed a new face in order to get eaten. Rummaging through the crisper I found some green onions and half a dozen tomatoes giving me the idea of black bean salsa.

I began by putting the beans in a collander to drain. Meanwhile, I whirred the green onions and tomatoes in a food processor with some fresh garlic and chipotle sauce. The veggies had a fresh, green, springy flavor with just a hint of warmth. This tomato mush went into a bowl with the drained beans, salt, pepper, and some Caribbean jerk seasoning for interest. After several tastings and seasonings, the heat was right (a nice medium salsa since Jeff isn't crazy about hot sauces and I'm not interested in searing my tastebuds) but something was missing. I strolled to the pantry and surveyed its contents pondering what else to add when a can of crushed pineapple caught my eye. I love the play of sweet fruit with spicy seasonings, and this was just what the recipe doctor ordered. I stirred in the drained pineapple and just a tablespoon or so of sugar to reduce the acidity of the mixture.

Of course, the big question was whether or not the guys would eat it. Upon plopping the salsa and a bowl of chips in the middle of the table where they were lounging, tentative bites were taken and mulled over. Jeff immediately ate several more chipfuls, as did the boy. Success! Thus, my plan is to serve up this snack tonight at t.v. time and (hopefully) watch the black bean and pineapple salsa disappear.

On a Roll

The art of doing nothing often escapes me. After spending the early part of the day talking on the phone, playing solitaire on the computer, leafing through magazines, and lounging in front of the television, I couldn't stand another idle moment. So, at 1:30 I made the bed, cleaned up the kitchen, and rummaged through the pantry for something to cook. My hands met a half-full bag of Yukon gold potatoes on the verge of making their own garden. Thus, the key ingredient was chosen for two dishes - crispy potato bites and yeasty potato donuts.

I've never tasted a potato I didn't like, so overdosing on spuds isn't really possible in my book. While a couple of them were boiling away in preparation for donut dough, the rest were peeled and chunked into bite-sized pieces before going into a large zipper bag with about a quarter cup of flour, salt, pepper, and a heavy dose of Italian seasonings. (This recipe idea came from A Taste of Home's 2010 Yearbook.) Meanwhile I melted half a stick of butter with some chopped garlic in a 13 by 9 dish in a hot oven (450 degrees). Once evenly coated the potatoes went into the dish and were covered with foil to bake for 20 minutes. Next, I removed the foil, stirred the spuds, and baked them for another 20 minutes uncovered. The top and bottom potato bites came out nicely browned and slightly crispy, while the middle ones were tender. The recipe I used called for bay leaf and marjoram, but these aren't my favorite flavors, so I stuck to basic Italian seasonings. This would be good with any kind of flavorings, though, from Mexican fajita seasoning to dressing mix or barbecue rub.

These delectable little bites went into and came out of the oven while the yeast dough was rising. I punched it down as the guys and I spooned up bowls of potatoes for "lupper" (a term from Jeff's side of the family for lunch and supper). By the time we ate and cleaned up the dishes, the donuts were ready to roll. This recipe, "Idaho Spudnuts," also came from A Taste of Home, though many potato donut directions are available on the net and in basic cookbooks.

To be honest, donuts aren't really my thing - unless they're homemade. I seldom eat a store bought donut from anywhere including specialty shops like Dunkin Donuts or Krispy Kreme. However, homemade potato donuts are the lightest, softest, tastiest fried bits of dough on earth. I fell in love with these treats as a child. Mom would start the dough early in the day and have a plate of freshly-glazed warm donuts waiting on the counter when my brother and I walked in from school. The aroma wafted through the door upon entry, pulling us magnetically to the kitchen. Heaven existed in every bite.

Today's pastry brought back those memories as I smelled yeast rising, plopped the airy mixture on my dough board, and cut perfect circles with an old biscuit cutter my mom gave me over 20 years ago. I even managed to get through frying three dozen of these little gems without burning my fingers once. (The donut holes are another story, though.) The final touch, of course, was a powdered sugar glaze made with a little vanilla for extra flavor which brings just the right amount of sweetness to this treat.

Ultimately, we will eat our fill over the next day or so but leave a few to begin going stale. Once this happens, I'll split the donuts, butter the face, and put them on a hot griddle until they're golden brown. Once grilled and slightly crusty, sprinkle a little granulated sugar on top and voila - instant goodness once again. Yes, the joys of homemade donuts are worth the effort.

Pizza Galore

Traditionally we lunch out on the last day of work, and this year is no exception. With the boy's help Jeff and I toted boxes, cleaned classrooms, moved books, and turned in stacks of paperwork before leaving school for a late lunch at CiCi's Pizza. This place is pretty interesting as far as standard pizza fare goes since it is a buffet and offers about ten varieties at a time.

My favorite is macaroni and cheese pizza. I know this sounds odd, but it is yummy. Basically, they start with a medium-crust cheese pizza covered in a goodly amount of mozzarella and baked. Next, corkscrew pasta in cheese sauce goes on top before putting it back in the oven to brown the mac and cheese which melts into the pizza crust a little. This is cheesy goodness at its best!

Another interesting offering at CiCi's is the Florentine pizza which has white sauce instead of the traditional tomato-based pizza sauce. Then it is topped with parmesan, provolone, and mozzarella before a final layer of spinach. This is a delicious choice that appeals to many adults who are accompanying their kids.

One of my son's favorites is the Canadian bacon with pineapple variety. Admittedly, this is a more standard offering, but is always worth a few bites. I especially like the way the sweet pineapple plays off of the tangy Italian spices in the tomato sauce. Other standard options like pepperoni, supreme, and veggie pizzas are also available, but there are yet surprises awaiting the newcomer.

Taco pizza is a good choice with its blend of yellow and white cheeses topped with bell peppers and onions. The base sauce has Mexican spices instead of Italian, and the entire pie is drizzled with enchilada sauce when it comes out of the oven.

Barbecue chicken is popular with many people, though not my favorite. While I really like the smoky-sweet barbecue sauce base, I don't care for the tiny chunks of diced chicken. (Maybe I'm biased, but it looks like the little pieces in a can of cat food.) The blend of white cheeses is a mellow counterpoint to the sauce, so when I eat this one I just take the chicken off the top first.

In addition to myriad pizza flavors, a tossed salad complete with black olives, cherry tomatoes, and banana pepper slices is also available for grazing. Dessert is comprised of pans of iced cinnamon rolls served hot from the oven. (When the place first opened apple and cherry dessert pizzas were available, but they made the switch to the soft, yeasty rolls about a year ago.) Jeff adores these little bites and practically inhales them. As a matter of fact today he snarfed one off a plate in a single bite while making oinking/grunting noises. Upon completion of this maneuver he licked the plate for good measure, much to our 15-year-old's chagrin. Alas, eating out with the guys is always interesting!

As far as pizza places go, CiCi's is my hands-down favorite because of its interesting choices. However, most of them would be easy to reconstruct at home using some basic frozen cheese pizzas with additional ingredients. So next time you have a hankering for pizza, why not try something new?

End of Year Plans

Tonight I have to attend an end of the year faculty party. Now, I know what you're thinking: "Jenny, what do you mean you have to attend a party. Aren't you a party person?" The answer is, of course, a little complicated. I have to attend because I have to pay off a bet. Tonight's keynote speaker is a fellow teacher with whom I was discussing the text of his graduation oratory. We decided that with the bad economy, poor job market, lack of educational funding, and a host of other world difficulties, students would be better off not leaving high school. We also decided this should be a major theme of his farewell-class-of-2010 address, and then we made a wager (which I lost). Thinking this was all in good fun, and that he would never dream of saying "don't go" to the kids, I bet him the first round of drinks that he couldn't work it into the first two paragraphs of his speech. He did - and quite admirably, too. I read the final draft yesterday, and tonight I owe him a drink. Luckily for me he's a pretty cheap bet - Coors Light - and we're partying at a faculty member's home instead of a bar. Thus, I have to provide some beer to get the festivities started for at least a few of us. Plus is gives me a good excuse to go!

Tonight's kick off symbolizes the official end of our duties for 2009-2010. Sure, we all have to show up for a little while tomorrow to turn in some paperwork and pick up our final pay check for the year, but there are no kids, no classes, no watching the clock to contend with. Thus, teachers begin to consider how we will spend our summer break. Jeff and I both will put in some work time over the next few weeks taking professional development classes, leading curriculum teams, planning for new courses next year, etc. But one thing there will be plenty of time for is cooking. I've been contemplating what to make first. Should I put together a feast on Saturday because it is the first day of vacation or should I wait until Monday when the alarm doesn't go off for work? Should I make something decadent like potato-yeast donuts or something light like teriyaki shrimp kabobs on the grill? So many choices abound! I've spent hours over the last few months dreaming of interesting food, and now I'll have some time to cook it. Of course, finding something interesting is another challenge, so I've decided to wend my way through some of the smaller gourmet groceries in the area in search of inspiring ingredients from far off places. Ahh...at last summer has arrived and adventure calls!

No Dinner Tonight

Pointlessly meandering through local stores can provide welcome surcease at the end of a trying day. After spending an entire morning completing paperwork the boss will probably ignore and a long lunch sitting through many faculty and staff goodbyes (not to mention having to cut my farewell short for fear of leaking tears), I needed a break. So, the family headed to our local strip mall to walk the shops where interesting food abounds.

We started at Dollar Tree, which just opened near our home. I love this place! Not only did I pick up several kitchen necessities, but I ambled through three aisles of food items ranging from old-fashioned candy to jars of black currant preserves. My favorite picks include marinated mushrooms, roasted bell pepper strips, the entire spice section, multiple olives, and artichoke hearts. Of course the bags of snack foods - honey glazed nuts, flavored chips, and cheddar crackers - are good, too.

After making a few selections, we moved on to World Market - a food lover’s mecca. However, unlike Dollar Tree, everything there is expensive. Still, Jeff couldn't resist his favorite imported German cookies (chocolate dipped assorted sugar wafers with flavored fillings), while I was tempted by a wide variety of items - especially the blue cheese and feta cheese stuffed green olives (which were five bucks for a small jar). Though I salivated over chocolate meringues, key lime curd, and bruschetta flavored vegetable chips, I left with only one small item from the sale cart - wasabi flavored, dry roasted edamame. Jeff doesn't care for wasabi or edamame, so he wasn't in danger of swiping any of my treat. On the other hand, the boy likes anything spicy and interesting, so I slid the bag underneath the cookies to protect it from his wandering eyes. (It worked, too!)

As we munched German cookies (which would melt if left in the car), we made our way to Target to browse summer video games, books, and music. But our final stop before check out was the ice cream aisle where (after a long survey of possible choices) we settled on Breyer's Waffle Cone Overload. This package of wonderfulness is creamy vanilla bean ice cream laced with caramel and filled with chunks of chocolate-dipped waffle cone. Mmmm....

As we arrived home with our treasures, we realized that somewhere along the way a tacit understanding had arisen that there would be no dinner tonight - only a myriad of goodies meant to sooth the end-of-year rush.

Lucky to Have a Lunch Box

I have brown-bagged lunch since I graduated from college (the first time). The idea of eating fast food every day or paying someone to make one sandwich for the price of a week's worth of sandwich fixings just irks me. Though I have to admit, school lunches are pretty cheap - only three dollars for soup, salad, entree, dessert, and drink. On the other hand, you get what you pay for. (Several of my friends eat cafeteria food daily, and it just never looks that good to me. One friend gets everything offered, and then picks through it to find enough for lunch. Yuck!)

Mystery meat is just not my thing and neither is take-out banquet food, and yet every year I am faced with the dilemma of ante-ing up money to eat at the less than stellar end-of-year luncheon or schlepping in my lunch sack for all to see. (It is hot pink cammo - sort of hard to ignore.) You're probably wondering why I would even attend a luncheon in which I have no intention of partaking. There are myriad reasons including the fact that I'm the department chair, and it's my job to bid farewell to anyone leaving us. (I don't mind saying adios, but I hate doing it in front of a crowd.) Next, it is my only opportunity to see the end of year slide show. (It isn't terribly grand, but anyone who misses it is considered out of the loop.) Finally, since EVERYONE on campus attends, I can't get any of my check out completed, have a meeting with the boss, or turn in textbooks, so might as well give in and go.

One good reason not to attend this annual fete, though, is the food. The last couple of years it has been brought in from a local Mexican restaurant. Usually I adore south of the border cuisine, but this stuff always looks like slop. The pans of enchiladas are an unappetizing mass of tortillas and runny sauce. The beans are a nondescript brownish ooze. The red pepper flecked rice looks dry and flaky. Compound the matter with a long line of teachers with flimsy paper plates and plastic forks that wouldn't cut warm butter, and you have the definition of a mess.

My solution to this is to amble past the folks in line - stopping, of course, to talk to my friends - find a nice table in the corner, and begin noshing my selection of yogurt, fruit, crackers, pizza - or whatever edibles the hubby has provided. These actions, while quite normal to me, seem to garner a good deal of attention. "Aren't you eating?" people enquire, apparently oblivious to the fact that food is sitting in front of me. "Don't you like Mexican food? Do you realize you live in Arizona?" The questions are a sort of good-natured ridicule because by circumventing the system I am relaxed, seated, and sated long before the rest, thus giving me more time to talk to everyone else. In addition, I think some of them may covet my simple lunch box fare. After all, I know where it came from and what is in it, which is more than I can say for the food on their plates. So, tomorrow at the end of year luncheon, I will be poked, prodded, and teased, but I will be happy with my own humble lunch.

A Lesson in Friendship

Saturday my faith in the world was reaffirmed at a retirement party for two of my colleagues. As hostess I decided to make a cake rather than buy one. Generally I don't care for store-bought cakes. They tend to be dry, bland, and have some cheap-o icky icing that looks good but tastes terrible. To this end I purchased a couple of cake mixes - the golden butter recipe is moist and tasty without being a specific flavor - and broke out the Wilton book-shaped pan left from a cake decorating class taken many ages ago.

The first step was to diligently coat the pan to ensure an easy release upon cooling. (So far, so good!) Next, of course, came Wilton's decorator icing, which is the best frosting in the world! (Just the thought of that sweet, full-fat texture in my mouth makes me shiver with anticipation.) I applied a base of white and smoothed it carefully with my icing knife dipped in hot water. Finally, the time arrived to decorate the cake. I broke out the fancy tips, colored the remaining icing sunny yellow, and tried to lay a shell border around the base. Alas, it looked more like an uneven zigzag than shells. A second round (above the first) covered a multitude of sins, but looked more frilled than shelled. (Sigh.) Next, I put the same border around the top edge, but again managed more of a rolling rick-rack design than a shell pattern. By this time my hands - which are not as strong, young, or elastic as they used to be - had grown sore and tired, but it was time to put on the lettering. Unfortunately, my hands shook so much that the letters were squiggly lines rather than the flowing cursive of my youth. I tried to help the situation by making a second pass at them, which improved the look by covering the jittery lines, but made the letters pre-schooler heavy and rather messy.

Upon finishing this homage to arthritic hands, I stepped back, surveyed my handiwork, and promptly sobbed. My good and dutiful husband appeared and assured me the cake was lovely and no one would even notice anything amiss while he allowed me to soak his shirt with tears of frustration. Next, my son appeared and promised to punch anyone who would dare to even think a disparaging remark about this cake I had worked so hard to create. Eventually I stopped crying enough to suggest that we run to the grocery and buy a cake that looked more fitting for this momentous occasion, but both of the guys repeatedly said the one I made would be better than anything I could purchase. I remained nonplussed until my son said, "Mom, you should trust your friends to see that you put time and effort into it for them. They'll see that and know that it is good." At that moment I knew I had to practice what I repeatedly preached to my son about friendship, kindness, and trust. I had to serve the cake.

It was with some trepidation that I watched the first guest of honor approach the cake upon his arrival. He exclaimed, "Wow! Look at this cake! It looks delicious! Did you make this for us?" At that moment my heart melted, and I knew I was in the company of friends. No one paid much attention to the decorations, and once cut they were obliterated anyway. So, while the party was not mine, I received the best gift of all - being accepted and appreciated for who I am and the imperfect talents I possess.

Store Bought Can Be Good

Party leftovers are the best for several reasons:
1. You might not have even cooked the dish to begin with.
2. You may not have eaten it the first time around.
3. If it isn't good, you don't feel guilty throwing it away.
4. It saves you from cooking for at least a day or two.

Last night we held a party for two friends retiring from the English department. With at least 50 people in attendance, copious amounts of food were presented, consumed, and left behind for me. (Yay!) One of the best dishes was a dessert (of course) - Aaron Sanchez's Mexican Brownies. (The recipe is available at foodnetwork.com.) These babies were excellent and went quickly! (My friend was telling me about her very Italian mother's reaction to the idea of chili powder in brownies, and I knew I had to try one. As I walked by the plate there were only two left, so I immediately snagged one and ate it. I wasn't sorry!)

Since the party had a fiesta theme, the counter was covered with every kind of Mexican casserole, appetizer, and salad imaginable. Someone brought spicy baked chicken that was so tender it fell off the bone when you picked it up. (The guys loved that!) My contribution was a taco bar with slow cooker shredded beef, shredded chicken, and black beans plus all the fixings. While all the homemade casseroles and layered dips were delicious, a couple of my favorite foods were actually purchased items. A dish of Bistro 28 brand Quinoa, Black Bean, and Mango Salad found its way to the kitchen and my plate. This was deluxe, and I was overjoyed when there was some left at the end of the night just for me! Upon checking allrecipes.com and foodnetwork.com, I did not find recipes that looked like this (quinoa, black beans, mango, green onions, red bell pepper with only a little dressing comprised of oil, red wine vinegar, sugar, and salt according to the ingredient list), so I'll be making my own while looking for it in a local store. Another pre-made goody was Santa Barbara brand mango and peach salsa (from the refrigerated section of the grocery). This is tangy and fruity, sweet and mellow. One friend (truly my friend since she brought an extra tub of salsa for my fridge) made tortilla rolls filled with cream cheese, chopped green onions, chopped red peppers, etc. and topped them with this salsa. (Yum!)

This party experience taught me to not turn up my nose (or my palate) too quickly at purchased foods. I will be taking another look at the refrigerated salsas and salads at Fry's this week. However, since these items are a little off-beat, I suspect I will find them at some of the smaller markets like Fresh and Easy, Whole Foods, Ranch Market, or AJ's Fine Foods. Graduation at the end of the coming week means my days will be free to roam through interesting stores looking for good eats. I can't wait!

Table Manners

After days of thinking my teenager is a stubborn high school blob whose only goal in life is to embarrass his parents, I am shocked and proud to learn he actually has manners.

This discovery occurred in a round-about way, and began with a fairly common thought of "Is he trying to irritate me?" Let me explain. Since we are preparing for a party tomorrow evening, Jeff and I thought it best to hit the grocery tonight rather than wading through Saturday morning's crowds. So, upon compiling a list we set out for food mecca. As the car exited the driveway, Jeff dialed our son's phone to tell him where we were going and make sure he had his key. Unfortunately, the boy didn't answer the call. This is troubling for us on several levels. There is, of course, the initial irritation of "He's ignoring me." Then, the idea that perhaps he can't hear the phone due to a myriad of explanations ranging from loud music to playing in the park, spurs us to dial again to give him a second shot. When he doesn't answer this time, worry sets in. "Is he hurt? Has someone taken his phone? Why doesn't he answer? Is he up to something he shouldn't be?" All of this occurs in mere milliseconds. As the phone rings and rings the second time, Jeff turns onto the next street over where our son's friend lives. Out I hop from the car the moment it stops at the curb, and up to the door anxiously waiting for it to open as soon as I ring the bell. (The fear, here, is that his friend's parents will respond with, "I thought they were at your house!")

Relief flows through me as I am ushered into the kitchen where my teen is sitting properly at the dinner table. I receive an explanation that the phone is turned off because he doesn't want to disrupt the meal. I am voluntarily given a hug (in front of everyone!) and a sincere "Sorry Mom." At this point my heart melts and I take in the surroundings to describe the event to Jeff, who is waiting patiently in the car. As my son returns to his seat I notice his hands go neatly to his lap and his posture is straight and tall. (This is surprising because at home he sprawls across two chairs and throws his arm across the table for support.) I also observe that his normal volume (speaking to the deaf) is toned down to a discreet level, and he is conversing politely with his friend's little sister. (Please understand - this is my son who makes constant jokes about roasting annoying children.) As I thank his friend's parents for inviting him to dinner, I hear that he is a "pleasure" and "always welcome."

At home, later, I ask my son to let me know before he turns off his phone in the future, and receive a "Sure, Mom. I didn't mean to worry you earlier." I am beginning to think aliens or some government black ops scenario has replaced my boy with this kid who knows how to behave during a family dinner outside of home. The knowledge that all the manners we've tried to teach him actually sank in is gratifying indeed. I suppose, though, upon further thought, that I should be happy he lolls around the house like a Saint Bernard puppy because it means he is comfortable here. At home he can be himself and feel secure in the knowledge that we love him - slovenliness and all. My mom always said that home is a soft place to land, a place where everyone knows you and loves you for who you really are. Today, I see that my son understands this acceptance and allows us to see who he is on the inside, and yet knows how to function in polite society. Today I see that he is growing up.

The "Home" Side of the Project

Have you ever noticed that nothing spurs you to clean the house more than the knowledge that company's coming? Nearly nine weeks ago - toward the end of spring break - I purchased a couple of cans of foaming carpet cleaner with the intent of sprucing up the stairs and master bedroom. (The stuff worked well on the carpet in my son's room the first time I used it.) "I'll just get these rooms done before going back to school," I told myself. When Monday rolled around and I had not completed the task, I thought, "I'll take care of these rooms on Saturday." Alas, I did not do the chore, but a pattern was set.

Two college degrees, three years as a reporter, and 16 years of teaching English have convinced me that I work best on a deadline. So, after an entire quarter of saying, "I have to do something about this carpet," every time I walked down the stairs, I finally have incentive: a party - day after tomorrow, actually. So this evening found me on hands and knees working carpet cleaner into each step with a scrub brush. Tomorrow will find me doing the same in our bedroom and perhaps my office, as well. (Lest you think my devoted hubby left me to clean alone, he packed up a large quantity of Goodwill items, moved some pictures he's been ignoring for at least a month, and dusted the living room.)

Why can I manage to summon the energy to scrub carpets for a party but not for myself? The answer is simple - embarrassment. I wouldn't want anyone to actually see the carpet that six-foot-two and sloppy has sloshed drinks on, trundled trash bags across, drug ink-stained laundry up, and stomped upon in muddy boots. I can walk past the spots and stains with a heavy sigh and forgive him silently for being oblivious to any mess he might create. However, I would never allow my friends to think for a moment that I live in a less than spotless abode. Nor would I allow them to entertain the thought that I might not be a paragon of housecleaning virtues. After all, I have a reputation to maintain as a June Cleaver wannabe.

If confession is good for the soul, this entry should put me on the ladder to heaven, since I have owned up to not only having a dirty house, but also procrastinating over cleaning it. What would my students think if they could see me now? Might they discover I am human after all? Might they find comfort in the thought that I am not perfect? Nah...They’d think the idea that I put off anything is so ludicrous it could only happen in a bad sci-fi movie with a lame title like The Teacher Who Bled Ink. It's a good thing they'll never know.

The Taste of Shoe Leather

Have you ever noticed that the moment a mom says, "My child always..." or "My child never..." the kid immediately proves her wrong? That's how I feel tonight. Last night I complained that my son, especially, is not fond of scrounging for dinner. So...tonight we scrounged, and he was happy to do so. Just for the record, it was the husband's idea to just eat leftovers - and, no, I didn't have a heart attack.

The normal culprits lead up to leftovers tonight: home late, things to do, didn't realize the time, etc. However, the difference was that my son entertained me with his guitar for a couple of hours while I worked on a project for Saturday's retirement party. Jeff spent the time getting some computer work done and none of us even missed watching television. This is a good thing since it means that the end-of-the-year stress is starting to lighten. When we are in full work/stress mode, we argue over who has to fix dinner or whether we're going to eat out. When we begin to relax, dinner isn't as important and everyone fends for himself - like tonight.

Still, I have to wonder how my son knew I had made disparaging remarks about his inability to scrounge. He doesn't read this blog, and Jeff usually runs several days behind, so he didn't mention it. It must be that sixth sense kids have when they do something just to embarrass their parents. It is akin to the sixth sense moms and dads have when their kids are doing something they shouldn't and then lie about it. (Jeff has an uncanny ability to know when our son is lying - even over inconsequential things.)

Once, when my son was quite young and attending a birthday party cookout, I bragged to another mom that he liked raw veggies. (He often ate them for a snack.) Of course, as soon as he saw the baby carrots and bell pepper strips on his plate, he loudly exclaimed, "I don't want to eat those! Yuck!" The other mom merely smirked in my direction as I turned several shades of pink. Later, at home, over dinner he told me none of his friends ate vegetables, and he didn't want to be "weird." From that day on I made it a point to never tell strangers what he would or would not eat. (He's even done this to me at his grandmother's. There have been times I assured my mom that he would eat something yummy at which he prompty turned up his nose the moment he saw it.)

I'm sure I did this to my mother on numerous occasions. When I was a kid I wouldn't eat any food that touched another, so I was careful to keep everything separate on my plate. Then, I ate one food at a time and turned the plate to the next thing when I was finished. The only food I really remember despising as a kid was tuna. When mom made tuna casserole - and the smell permeated the house - I knew I was going to be hungry. Don't get me wrong - she never starved me. I just refused to eat it and (being a good mom) she refused to give in to my stubbornness. (One time my brother spent hours sitting at the table with a meal in front of him that he refused to eat. I think being stubborn runs in my family!)

Ultimately, tonight I am enjoying the taste of shoe leather along with the nachos I nuked for dinner. Luckily, the faux pas was small enough to make the foot in my mouth more of an appetizer than a main course.

Making Progress

"April is the cruelest month" (T.S. Eliot) seems to apply to the food budget as well as life in general. The hopes of spring are dashed by hectic schedules, testing demands, and tax day among other maladies. Apparently, though, April was a tough month for eating at home. Over the course of 12 weeks between Jan. 9 and March 26 my family spent $149.70. However, over the span of only four weeks in April - one third of the previous amount of time - we managed to rack up $146.43 in eating out expenditures. This meant for the final week of April and the first week of May we were over our limit by several dollars. Luckily, we seem to be making progress this week, and we're back within our $20 budget. Our current total is $368.25 out of a budget of $380 for the 19 weeks we've been working this project.

We have been worried lately that the twenty bucks a week allocation would have to be drastically reduced due to possible pay cuts at our jobs. Our school district has proposed a list of "budget measures" including non-paid furlow days that will be implemented next year. However, there is a further, more extensive list waiting in the wings - which includes a five percent pay cut for all teachers (double whammy since Jeff and I work together) - if a sales tax increase does not pass Arizona voters today. We are breathing a sigh of relief this evening since it appears the proposition will get through. (At this time nine of 15 counties are reporting and the yea's have 64% so far.) This is good news not only for our fast food budget but our mortgage as well, so keep your fingers crossed.

But, I wonder what factors cause us to eat out more some weeks than others? Scheduling, of course, plays a big role, but we've seen over the last several days that we can manage to put together a decent meal in a short amount of time. I think stress is probably the primary answer. When I become stressed I feel tired and harried ultimately losing interest in cooking anything at all. When this happens, I'm usually happy scrounging around for some nachos, a PBJ, or left overs in the fridge. Unfortunately, the guys aren't as adept at this practice - particularly my son, who believes grazing doesn't really count as "eating." This could be because he is a 15-year-old bottomless pit, or it could be because he's been spoiled by a mom who not only cooks on a regular basis but indulges his cookie habit, too. Whatever the reason, he seems unable to "find" anything when I don't fix it. (Actually, this is a pretty recent phenomenon since he used to fix dinner when we worked late. Maybe high school has turned him into a helpless blob after all.) The upshoot of this problem is that we end up picking up something from Mickey D's or Quick Trip and handing the boy a bag of food when we get home. In the end, of course, we're equal opportunity diners, so we have fast food all around which adds to the cost.

With only a week and a half left before graduation, we're hoping to amend our ways. While we're considering a short jaunt to the beach (based on nixing those pay cuts), we've already decided to get a room with a kitchenette and "eat at home" there. Besides, a package of cheap hotdogs and marshmallows over a campfire on the beach at sunset is one of life's simple pleasures. Who knows, this year my son could take his guitar and we could sit around the glowing embers singing "Stairway to Heaven," "Crazy Train," and "Twenty-one Guns" since he doesn't know how to play "Kumbaya" or "Clementine." Of course, there's always time to learn. Until then, we're trying to face the end of the school year with resolve and plenty of frozen dinners.

Dinner on the Run

Recently we have been getting side tracked from our quest to eat at home, but tonight we stayed the course. Even though our son had two school functions to attend - one from 3:00 to 4:30, another from 6:30 to 7:30 - we opted not to pick up fast food. Instead, we had a fast dinner at home featuring pasta (what else?) and jar sauce with some additions to make it more interesting.

One of my favorite jar sauces is Ragu's garlic and parmesan alfredo. It is rich and creamy making a good base for all the stuff that livens up a bowl of pasta. Tonight I dropped half a box of fetuccini into boiling water and dug out the sauce along with some left over shrimp, frozen veggies, extra parmesan, Italian seasonings, and black pepper (of course). While the pasta got underway, I also popped some frozen garlic bread into the oven for good measure. The frozen veggies went into the pot when the fettuccini was almost done, and the last minute or so, the shrimp joined the party. (This was left over from shrimp cocktail last week, so it was already cooked. I just pulled off the tales and dumped them in the water to reheat.) After draining the pot, in went the jar of sauce with three ounces of grated parmesan, pepper, and plenty of fresh Italian herbs from the garden. The garlic bread came out of the oven about the same time and dinner was on the table in 25 minutes flat.

As life becomes more and more hectic, I've grown to appreciate the "Semi-Homemade" style of cooking. The fresh herbs make a big difference in bringing canned and packaged foods to life. Dinner tastes much more homemade with freshly-snipped basil, oregano, and parsley. I realize this concoction - and many others like it - isn't a gourmet masterpiece, but it does provide the opportunity for my family to sit together sharing a meal. The time is often short, but hearing stories of daily events, laughing about a comment someone made, and knowing I took the time to provide a good meal for the guys improves my harried outlook on life almost instantly.

Spice it Up

One of the best features of allrecipes.com is that a cook can type in several ingredients and get dinner ideas for what's on hand. Tonight's options included ground beef and mushroom soup along with the key word "casserole." Upon hitting "enter" I received a few workable choices. Three seems to be an optimal number for this since there are enough to make you feel like your making a decision, but not so many you get bogged down in the details. Thus, Meatloaf Casserole - submitted by the Campbell's Kitchen - was this evening's winner.

The process was easy: brown some ground beef (of course turkey, chicken, or vegetarian crumbles would all work just as well) with chopped garlic. Add a can of diced tomatoes, half a can of golden mushroom soup, and a little Worcestershire sauce. This goes into a baking dish and is topped with instant mashed potatoes which have been made with water, butter, and the remaining soup. The dish goes into the oven for 20 minutes to brown the tater topping.

Overall, the meal was good - hot and homemade in very little time and effort. But, it really needs tweeking to add more flavor. The Worcestershire and mushrooms made it more reminiscent of strogonoff than meatloaf, and it lacked the veggies to be shepherd's pie. The potato layer - with the added soup - was the best part of the dish. I think cooking instant potatoes with soup instead of the milk is a great idea to liven them up. I did, of course, make a couple of changes by adding a little salt and a generous helping of pepper to the meat mixture along with casserole cheese to the top of the potatoes. In retrospect, though, I think it would have tasted more like meatloaf (at least the kind I like) with onion soup mix and barbecue sauce instead of the canned tomatoes. An Italian twist with some extra herbs might also be good. A Mexicali flare with green chilis and chipotle sauce added to the meat and taco seasoning in the potatoes might be another way to go.

This is something I will make again because the guys really liked it, it was easy but still felt like comfort food, and there was plenty left over for lunch tomorrow. But next time, I'll be playing with the ingredients to make it much more interesting.

All I Really Need to Know I Learned from Cooking

As I strolled through Fry's (grocery store)this afternoon, taking a detour through the home department, I noticed a variety of posters playing on Robert Fulghum's famous essay, "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten." The posters drew lessons ranging in subjects from Star Trek to ballet, Star Wars to gardening. So, in honor of all the inspirational observations I read today, I've constructed my own list of life's basic lessons drawn from my time in the kitchen.

Variety makes dinner more interesting.
It's best to simmer down before you boil over.
Spices add warmth and depth to all dishes.
Colorful ingredients brighten a meal.
Take chances.
If you fail, simply start again.
You don't always need a recipe.
Cleaning is good for the soul.
Make due with what you have.
Warm cookies make everyone happier.
Simple pleasures are the best.
Everything's better when you share.

The Comforts of Home

Some days it doesn't pay to get out of bed. Today has been filled with mishaps ranging from laying my hand across a pan fresh from a 400 degree oven to losing a battle with a plastic binder (and yes, I have the bruise to prove it). Perhaps the most annoying problem of all was having to throw out a package of chicken. I bought this package of meat on closeout just before the sell by date and stuck it in the freezer. A day or two ago I moved it to the fridge for slow, safe defrosting. Tonight, when I opened the package to make Shake-and-Bake-style chicken fingers, it had an odd smell. As I began cutting it up, the smell became so rank that I stepped toward the trash can with a heaving stomach. Needless to say, the whole kit and kaboodle went into a bag of its own and out to the can for garbage pick up. Wasting food ticks me off more than just about any other household problem.

To compound the situation, I suddenly had nothing to make for dinner. A quick rummage through the pantry and fridge produced bow tie pasta, an assortment of cheese, and some bacon. Voila! Mac and cheese to the rescue. Since I had enough Velveeta to make the cheese sauce base, I didn't even have to put much effort into the dish. While the pasta cooked, I threw the bacon onto a cookie sheet and into the oven. (I haven't cooked bacon on the stove top since I watched the Ina Garten aka the Barefoot Contessa put it in the oven about a year ago. It is so much easier, and clean up is a breeze!) With the pasta and bacon underway, it was time for the cheese sauce which consisted of about 8 ounces of Velveeta and a third of a cup of half and half. (I usually use milk, but somehow the half gallon that was in the fridge this morning had disappeared by dinner time. Did I mention I have a 15-year-old son?) Once the cheese melted, I added plenty of pepper (so Jeff could taste something through his cold) and some grated marble cheddar for good measure. In the end, I dumped the drained bow ties into the cheese sauce along with some crumbled bacon. After spooning a helping into a bowl, I plopped on the couch for a little Friday evening R and R. Ah...comfort food.

It seems to me that something hot and homemade - even if it is simply mac and cheese - makes even the worst of days better. When some of my friends have a bad day at school, their first reaction is to go out to dinner. In contrast, my first reaction is to cocoon at home where I can eat something simple in front of the television wearing my favorite pajamas. I must be getting old.

What's Mine is Yours

Somewhere in the fine print of the marriage and family contract are the words, "What's mine is yours." Never have these been truer than when dealing with a 15-year-old and food.

This morning my son drags into the kitchen at 6:25 for breakfast as I am setting Jeff's plate and mine on the table. "What would you like today," I inquire thinking he'll want cereal, which has been his choice since Monday. (Mind you, I usually give him a plate of whatever we are eating - eggs, bacon or sausage, toast, hash browns with cheese, etc. But this week he announced he was "tired" of all that and just wanted a bowl of cereal.) He eyes the plates and says, "I'll have some of that."

This is only a problem because he has already eaten his share of "some of that" and wants mine. See, occasionally when Toaster Strudel is on sale we buy a box, which contains six pastries - allowing us two each. When I pulled the box from the freezer this morning, only three remained. I gave Jeff two and put one on my plate - the dish my son is eyeing hungrily in the early morning sunshine. When I point out to him he has already eaten half the box, he protests – "But I only ate two of them. Steven was here when I had a snack, so I had to offer him one, and he took it."

Now, as a mom I am happy that my son remembered it is impolite to eat in front of people without offering to share. However, as a hungry-for-warm-pastry-before-I-go-to-work woman, I am unhappy that he has given half of my share away rather than half of his. Thus, the tug-of-war in my brain starts as the ragamuffin gives me his best starving puppy dog look. "O.K.," I relent. "You can have my Toaster Strudel. What else do you want to go with it?"

"Those hash browns look good," he answers. Of course they do because they are the last of the leftover hash brown casserole from Sunday brunch. As I scoop half of them onto a plate with the pastry, he adds that some of the sausage (also hot on my plate) would be good, too. By the time we are finished, half a helping of hash browns is left on my plate and the rest of my breakfast is sitting prettily in front of the boy. At this point he even takes my fork since I am forced to walk back to the fridge (next to the silverware drawer) to get more sausage and put a piece of bread in the toaster. I feel as if I have been had, especially when Jeff shows up and comments on how good breakfast looks and the ragamuffin nods in agreement while chewing.

This isn't the only instance of the boy absconding with my food. Last week I bought a box of Raisin Bran Crunch while he picked out some Fruity Pebbles. Within a day, my cereal box was half empty and his wasn't even open. "Gee, this is really good, Mom," he commented when I asked about it. "I didn't know it would be better than Fruity Pebbles." Apparently it was because I only ate one small bowl and Jeff didn't get any. Another box this week was also disappearing (Monday to Wednesday's cereal for breakfast), until his covetous eyes lit on the toaster pastry this morning.

Families should come with warning labels about how kids take over your life. They wear you out physically, tax you mentally, stomp on you emotionally, and then eat your favorite foods in front of you as a final taunt. I guess I shouldn't complain, though, because the boy gives me food for thought in return.

Post-Concert Cake

Concerts always mean dessert at our house and tonight's choir finale for 2009-2010 is no exception. Making the goody before the big event was a race against time since I didn't arrive home until nearly 5 p.m. and had to leave again at 6:15. Luckily a cake mix and icing were lurking in the pantry waiting for the right moment to present themselves.

Tonight's flavor choice was cherry. I'd never eaten a cherry chip cake before, but decided to try the variety when I had a coupon that made the cake and frosting (together) about a dollar. The cake itself does not have much cherry flavor and is basically a moist white cake with flecks of "cherry chips" that look like pink confetti. On the other hand, the icing does have a distinct cherry flavor, albeit an extremely sweet one. Overall, the pair is a good combo for post concert discussions, especially when teamed with a glass of cold milk. (It would probably be better with chocolate milk, but alas we're out.)

Jeff's kids performed admirably under his direction as well as that of a student teacher. Between the large groups, soloists and duos entertained the audience following the concert's Broadway theme. I have to say the musical highlight of the evening was Jeff's own arrangement of "With You" from Pippin. (Please note, Jeff says I'm biased since he wrote the arrangement for me and it's "our song.") The biggest crowd pleaser was a song from 70 Girls 70 called "Coffee in a Cardboard Cup" which garnered several laughs and a huge round of applause.

The final concert of the year is bittersweet for us as well as students. We take the opportunity to bid farewell to the senior class, many of whom we have known and watched grow for the last three years. Some of these kids have looked up to Jeff as a dad, while others have regarded him as a teacher who goes beyond his subject matter and helps them grow as human beings. The final song at the spring concert is always "For Good" from Wicked and always manages to evoke a few tears from even my jaded old eyes. (Of course this is nothing since there is always at least one girl who wails through the music.) In addition, several members of the choir council usually break down when they are thanking Jeff and presenting him with some token to remember them by. This year he received a pitch pipe in a silver box engraved with his name and the year. In the past, he has been given picture frames, pocket watches, letter boxes, and a host of other sentimental trinkets which are all on display at home or in his office at school.

It only seems fitting that such sweetness bringing the concert to a close should be greeted with edible sweetness at home.

What's in the Pantry?

This is a frequent game at home when I don't want to fix the meals I have (sometimes) painstakingly chosen for the week. The object of the game is to create something tasty for dinner in 20 to 30 minutes using whatever is on hand.

Tonight this shaped up into a chili/bean/potato conglomeration that satisfied the whole family. I started with some peeled and sliced sweet potatoes from the fridge (leftovers from last week's tacos). After drizzling some olive oil into the zipper bag, I tossed in half a packet of fajita seasoning left in the pantry. Next, I played shake, rattle, and roll with the contents before spreading the spuds on a cookie sheet lined with foil. Into the oven they went at 400 degrees for 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, I browned a package of ground beef (which could have easily been chicken or turkey) and added a can of Bush's Grillin' Beans, a can of petite diced tomatoes, a can of pitted black olives, and some green onions left from the weekend. Sometimes when my hands hurt (arthritis), it is easier to wield kitchen shears than a large knife, so I used the shears to snip the onions into the browning beef and then again to chunk up the black olives directly over the skillet. (Of course, if you have chopped olives those are fine, too, but I like my olives in larger pieces than the fine confetti-like texture of the canned, pre-chopped ones.) After everything went into the pan I added salt and pepper to taste, along with a couple of tablespoons of spicy brown mustard and about four tablespoons of barbecue sauce. Then I turned the heat to low and let the mixture simmer until the potatoes finished cooking.

To serve this concoction, put some sweet potatoes into a bowl and top with the beef-bean mixture, finishing off with a dollop of sour cream for good measure. We ate this with tortilla chips for crunch, but it would be fine alone or with some Texas toast. A cool green salad or cole slaw would round this out nicely, as well.

While dinner roulette is a gamble since I just never know if the guys will like what goes in the pot, it usually pays pretty high dividends getting me in and out of the kitchen quickly and making me feel as if I'm not "stuck" with prearranged dinner menus.

Thank Goodness for Leftovers

Today I'm loving the leftovers from Saturday's dinner. Between staying late for students to make up work and having to be back at school by 6 p.m. for spring open house, I didn't have much of an opportunity to make dinner. So, leftovers to the rescue!

Saturday's dinner - Tony's Summer Pasta - came from Allrecipes.com. I found it using my new IPod app (dinner spinner) which allows selections for main ingredient, prep time, and part of the meal. This dish was one of 10 choices that popped up when I specified pasta dinner in 20 minutes. It was easy to fix and tasty enough that all three of us ate good-sized portions Saturday evening. The basic idea is to marinate some chopped tomatoes and shredded mozarella in olive oil, basil, garlic, and pepper while cooking a pound of linguini. When the pasta is done, drain it and toss in the marinade. Voila! I did make a couple of changes, of course. The recipe calls for a pound of cheese, but that seemed like overkill, so I only used half that amount. I also cut the garlic (six cloves) in half to keep it from overpowering the fresh basil. In addition, I tossed some shelled shrimp into the pasta water at the end to make the dish heartier, dinner fare. Finally, I squeezed half a fresh lemon across the top to brighten up the whole thing. (I just adore lemon-pepper and pasta!)

Since a whole pound of linguini is involved, there was plenty to take to school today, which brought a touch of home to a long evening. To make matters easier, this was good cold. The linguini had absorbed some of the moisture and the tomatoes, shrimp, garlic, and basil flavors had melded nicely. In addition to having good leftovers at school, we started the day with leftover brunch items from yesterday's holiday feast - including baked French toast and hashbrown casserole. Between these two meals I didn't feel I missed eating well on a day that kept me out past 8 p.m. (On school nights I normally turn into a pumpkin at 9, so rolling into the driveway at 8:20 is pushing it for me!)

In retrospect, last week nothing sounded good and I was in a food funk, but the weekend seems to have restored some energy to my spatula, and I'm looking forward to making dinner tomorrow night being sure to leave plenty of leftovers for lunch!

Mother's Day Brunch

Brunch is one of my favorite meals to prepare because it is easy, quick, and sets the tone for a long lazy Sunday. Today's fare included Paula Deen's baked French toast, mushroom crust quiche, hash brown casserole, watermelon, shrimp cocktail, sausage patties, and buttermilk biscuits with gravy. Our beverage selections included coffee, orange juice, and bloody marys. "Feast" seems to be an apt description since there was too much food to even taste it all.

The highlight of the meal was definitely the baked French toast. This was easy and decadent. The bread soaks overnight in the fridge before getting topped with a pecan praline mixture and baked to golden perfection. It is like eating a cross between French toast and cinnamon rolls with a gooey, brown sugary top. The recipe is available on Foodnetwork.com, and I followed it closely with one exception. I added a lot more cinnamon and nutmeg than called for because I love the way the aroma of baking cinnamon fills the kitchen with warmth. One bite of this makes any ho-hum brunch a spectacular event.

Another crowd pleaser was the hash brown casserole. I mixed one bag of frozen shredded hash browns (defrosted in the fridge over night) with a can of cream of broccoli soup, 8 ounces sour cream, 8 ounces of "casserole" cheese (a blend of cheddar, jack, and mozzarella), and a good dose of pepper. This was turned into a large baking dish and went into the oven at 350 degrees for 45-50 minutes. Mmm...hot, crusty on top, melty and tasty within.

Of course items like sausage biscuits and gravy are standard fare. I like the Pillsbury Grands biscuits, but the off brand are nearly as good and cost less than half the name brand price. In addition to this, you can never go wrong with perennial favorites like shrimp cocktail at brunch. I have to admit, though, several of us were disappointed in the mushroom crust quiche (which I pulled from Gooseberrypatch.com). This dish combined sautéed chopped mushrooms with saltine cracker crumbs to make the base of a quiche. This "crust" was the best part of the whole thing. After pressing the mushrooms into a pie plate, some cooked green onions and shredded cheese are added before filling the plate with a combination of cottage cheese (I substituted ricotta) and eggs. The pie goes into the oven for 35 minutes or until it is set in the middle. The flavor was alright, but the texture seemed out of place as a quiche. This would be much better stirred into pasta, topped with parmesan, and baked or stuffed into pasta shells and baked with fresh tomatoes. (I'm considering using the leftovers to make a pasta dish tomorrow.) Another solution might be to increase the eggs and decrease the cottage (ricotta) cheese to make it more like a standard quiche texture.

In addition to how good (almost) everything tasted, this was a pretty quick and easy meal. Three of the entrees were casseroles, so they were simply a matter of assembling a few ingredients and turning them into a baking pan. The biscuits were from the dairy case because I learned long ago that my homemade versions are never as light, fluffy, and tasty as store bought. In addition, sausage is a quick fix which naturally leads to country gravy. I actually started preparations around 10 a.m. with eating commencing at 11:30. However, most of this was baking time and did not require my presence in the kitchen at all. To top it off, there are plenty of leftovers for breakfast tomorrow which means I won't be cooking again!

The icing on my cupcake of satisfaction with Mother's Day brunch is that the guys cleaned it all up in the end. There's nothing left for me to do but take a nap!

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Last night was full of fun and surprises at the Arizona Diamondbacks ball game. While we lost 3-2 to the Milwaukee Brewers, fun abounded in the stands where the family was seated with 50 students from Jeff's choir, which was invited to sing the national anthem at the start of the game. The kids sounded great and were extremely excited to stand behind home plate and sing. The cameras panned across each student (and the director, or course) throwing their images on the gigantic screen over the scoreboard. Chase field itself is pretty interesting with its sunken swimming pool and pull-back roof, which opened just before the game began allowing visitors watch the slowly darkening sky and anticipate the post-game fireworks display.

One highlight of the night was when Jeff was invited to steal second base, literally. At the end of the third inning, he went on to the field with the grooming crew to change out the bases and rake the dirt. Jeff swapped out the second and third bases, replacing them with clean ones. When he left the field, he was allowed to keep second base. Officials even authenticated it for him with a holographic sticker that has a code which allows the base to be searched on-line for details of the game in which it was used. Needless to say, this was nifty-keen for his inner child!

Upon returning to our seats with the base, Jeff gave a full accounting of the post surroundings hiding under the regular seats. Apparently, tickets behind home plate, field level, go for about $150 each and entitle the fan to a waitress who fetches anything he or she wants to eat and drink from the Sedona Lounge, which is located under the stands. Fans may also leave their seats to visit the lounge which is equipped with multiple t.v. screens broadcasting the current game along with over-stuffed armchairs and a full-service bar and restaurant. (Who knew?) In addition, the dugout lounge is a bar connected to the end of the actual dugout. Here, patrons may order snacks and cocktails while watching all the camera angles being shot for the current baseball game along with other sporting events being shown around the country.

While the high-ticket crowd was living it up out of sight, the rest of us were entertained by colorful hawkers walking up and down the stands with offerings ranging from water bottles to coffee frappes to multi-colored slushes to several kinds of beer along with sunflower seeds, peanuts, cotton candy, and popcorn. Of course the mezzanine ring around the stands offered a huge variety of food ranging from standard ballpark fare like hotdogs to chain restaurants including Taco Bell, McDonalds, and TGI Fridays. Of course, these places all want your first-born son in exchange for a meal. Luckily we had a $20 voucher and snacks of our own. The voucher went for three hotdogs and some popcorn that came in a D'backs batting cap, which the boy promptly wore as soon as he emptied the contents into his stomach. The guys were in charge of obtaining food, so when they returned I received a lesson in ballpark dogs. Apparently, we ate Diamondback Dogs which are higher quality - read more expensive - than the el-cheapo-deluxe regular dogs. (I think their reasoning was that we didn't have to pay for the hotdogs, so we might as well get the good ones!) In addition, the hotdogs are delivered naked, so each fan can build his or her own. Both of the guys put only ketchup on theirs, but they returned with a fully stocked dog sporting ketchup, mustard, pickle relish, and onions for me. (What, no chili?)

Interestingly, the ballpark allows fans to bring their own eats. People may bring soft-sided coolers with sealed water bottles and clear plastic grocery bags with whatever snacks they wish. So, realistically, going to the ballpark does not mean people have to spend a ton of money on food. Fortunately, I discovered this in advance and took a stock of items to share including nearly a dozen cold water bottles (nine of which we polished off) and several boxes of snack crackers, cookies, etc. In retrospect, I suppose I could have packed an entire picnic, though leaving directly from school made carrying the snacks about a little more difficult.

Ultimately, it was a long day, (We left for work at 7 a.m. and arrived home at 11:30 p.m. - which is why this entry was not posted last night.) but everyone had a good time. As a group we laughed, cheered, sang, did the wave, danced, tossed around an inflatable baseball, and enjoyed a beautiful Arizona night capped by spectacular fireworks. What could be more fun?

No Cooking Here

Lack of inspiration is an ailment that often rears its ugly head when writers are faced with a blank page or screen. Lately, this same lack of inspiration has invaded my kitchen. Perhaps it's because graduation is only three weeks away. Perhaps it's because my juniors just finished research papers that now have to be graded, while my sophomores are handing in district mandated writing assessments tomorrow which also have to be graded. All of these factors are conspiring with long twilights, early sunrises, and stress over next year's budget cuts to make me want to crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head, and hide from the world. Needless to say, this precludes any semblence of cooking dinner, which is why we ate at McDonald's (again) tonight.

Dinner has been non-existent this week. Monday afternoon the boy and I ate at Mickey D's and followed up with ice cream at Sonic. (Poor Jeff was left out and made frozen pizza later, which six-foot-two-and-always-hungry helped him eat.) Tuesday night Jeff and I attended a school banquet where we were fed take-out pizza. Wednesday night Jeff and I were home late, so he stopped at Walmart to pick up something frozen - yup, pizza - which I had left over for lunch today. Hmm...in retrospect perhaps I'm just pizza'd out. Sigh...tomorrow night we will NOT be eating pizza.

Since the weekend is almost upon us, I have another opportunity to dig into the recipe files and find something more appetizing for next week. Hopefully, creativity and inventiveness (which Edison said is one percent inspiration and 99 percent persperation) will take hold and steer me toward food that is actually worth eating. I've already planned a lovely brunch for Mother's Day, so I have a head start. My hope is that eating something wonderful on Sunday will entice me to jump back into cooking dinner every night next week. I also have entree ideas posted on the side of the fridge including fried fish (from a recipe that is supposed to replicate Long John Silver's), mushroom risotto, and lemon-herb pasta with shrimp. The trouble is none of these sounds particularly tantalizing. What I really want is a five course dinner waiting on the table when I arrive home from work complete with a complimentary wine selection, linen tablecloth, and a busboy to clean up at the end. What I actually have is a glass-top kitchen table I can't seem to keep clean, mail stacked on the counter, and cats who shed constantly across my laminate floor.

Perhaps I should download one of the dinner-on-the-go apps for my new IPod to help me through this cooking crisis. (That's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.)

Virtually Cooking

Virtual reality baking is not something I expected to find at the IPod App store. Honestly, I'm not sure what I really expected since I am new to the world of IPod, but the idea of using an electronic device to make cookies and cupcakes never crossed my mind. Yet, one of the first applications I came across features ten cake flavors, ten frosting colors/flavors, and 18 toppers. What does one do with these lovely "baked" goods upon completion? Send them to friends via e-mail, of course. Another variation on this application is one called "Cupcake Me" in which the user answers a series of questions in an effort to find out what kind of cupcake he is. (I'm not making this up, you know.) Yet another application, "Cookie Doodle," gives users a choice of 21 types of cookie dough, 25 frosting colors, 121 cookie cutter shapes, and 35 toppings. Users even roll out the dough with a virtual rolling pin! I guess this is the definitive cookie diet - all the colors, flavors, and fun without any taste or calories.

While these frivolous little apps appear amusing, the truly tempting programs feature recipes, directions, and pictures from some of my favorite cookbook authors like Martha Stewart, Nigella Lawson, Jaime Oliver and Tyler Florence, all of whom have quick fix dinner apps for IPod. There are also numerous cooking applications specializing in meals (like breakfast) or cuisine (like French and Italian). Even Allrecipes.com (one of my favorite websites) has an IPod app that creates shopping lists from recipes and displays directions in a "kitchen view" for easy reading. Another application I am considering is "iFood Assistant by Kraft." This little number offers offline access to recipes, videos, shopping lists, etc. and has a budget meal section. Since I often refer to all my back copies of the Kraft Food and Family Magazine , I am currently leaning toward this one. In addition to the few I've discussed here, there are many other applications featuring wine ratings, grilling, and food diaries with calorie tracking.

I have to admit that I am a little technophobic, so all these choices can be overwhelming. I am modulating among a trusted brand name (Kraft), a favorite cook (Nigella), and an often-used website (Allrecipes.com). Of course each comes with a price tag ranging between 99 cents and $7.99, which is a factor, particularly when making a first purchase. In addition, I can see how technology might make my cooking life easier by allowing me to thumb through recipes on the ride home from work (Don't worry - Jeff's driving) and create a list for a quick stop at the grocery, but there is something sensual about opening a friendly cookbook to the slightly musical cracking of the binding and leafing through glossy-stiff pages that smell faintly of cinnamon sugar from so many years in the kitchen. Finally, I am suspect of sending friends and family virtual treats since the work and the love are omitted. After all, isn't part of the joy of receiving home baked goods in knowing that someone loves you enough to give their time and energy to please you? Technology certainly has a place in the kitchen as long as it doesn't usurp the nourishment of body, mind, or soul.

Not an Award Winning Banquet

When the term "awards banquet" is used it generally calls to mind reserved seating, tables bedecked with linen and floral displays, water goblets being filled by wandering servers, and lackluster food. The only descriptor that applies to the event we attended tonight is "lackluster" in reference to the take out pizza on paper plates, plastic utensils, and cans of soda. And, yes, this evening was meant to honor some of the best and brightest students at our school.

Since one of the other teachers in my department enjoys giving the English award, I have not attended the soiree before tonight. While I did not expect a gourmet meal, I did expect an actual meal prepared by our cafeteria staff and served by our students. Entrees like spaghetti or enchiladas come to mind since they are easy to prepare and can feed a large number of people for a little money. I might even wager that these entrees are cheaper than ordering pizza (in three ho-hum flavors: cheese, sausage, and pepperoni). I should probably mention that we were also given a small dish of iceberg lettuce mixed with carrots and topped with ranch dressing as a salad. The only redeeming element of the entire meal was dessert - a moist white cake decorated with rosebuds in school colors made from excellent butter cream frosting. Luckily I had a corner piece to polish off the mediocre pickings of dinner.

Of course award banquets are all about honoring kids, and this was no exception. I am pleased to say that the outstanding industrial technology student of the year was a girl who has progressed through both the automotive and woodworking programs. She is also president of the high performance club which is all about drag racing, motor cross, and similar sports. By my count 22 of the 39 academic recipients were female including those in traditionally male subjects like math and science.

I'm also pleased to report that the students were dressed appropriately in their Sunday best, which is more than I can say for some of the faculty and parents. For example, one mom who looked 50-ish wore very low hip hugger jeans and a belly-baring tank top. Now, you may say, "Hey, if you've got it, flaunt it." Unfortunately, all she had was stringy hair and the figure of a Holocaust survivor. As long as I'm being catty, I should also admit that one faculty member showed up (quite) late in a school t-shirt and gym pants. (Yes, he was a coach. No, he didn't come straight from a game.)

It saddens me that we expect so much from our students - scholarship, leadership, appropriate behavior, appropriate attire, responsibility, respectfulness, perseverence - yet so many adults cannot display these same attributes. Aren't these young people - who are among the cream of the crop - worth a decent meal? Aren't they worth showing up on time for? Aren't they worth putting on professional attire for a couple of hours? I know that today many people believe decorum is for snobs, but I believe it is a sign of respect and citizenship.

Ice Cream Treats

The best way I know to soothe an aching body is ice cream. After a (mercifully) short visit to urgent care this afternoon my son seemed entitled to a cool treat as recompense for being sentenced to crutches for a week. (He'll be fine - sprained rather than broken ankle - after jumping off a pony wall while "sword" fighting with a neighborhood friend.)

The actual visit to the doctor's office was the most fun I've had in a holding cell. The room we were in contained a myriad of pamphlets about common ailments like heartburn and acid reflux, bladder urges, and irritable bowel syndrome. The brochures were not intrinsically funny, but the photos on the front - middle aged people wearing I've-just-won-the-lottery grins - were hilariously incongruous with the titles. This, of course, did not escape the keen eye of my son who spent the time making fun of each one in turn. In addition, there was an advertisement that read something like, "Irritable bowel syndrome feels like a shadow is following me all the time." This featured a woman with wide, fearful eyes staring over her shoulder at a stalker toilet seat. (You can't make this stuff up.) Our laughter must have carried to the far reaches of the building because we were not kept waiting long. (Hmm...I'll have to remember that next time I'm stuck in the doctor's office.)

Ultimately, we left with a well-wrapped ankle, a pair of crutches, and a hankering for something sweet. (The puppy dog look of a limping 15-year-old is hard to resist.) So, off to Sonic we went for ice cream treats. You might imagine that this giant of boy would order something extravagant like a banana split with extra toppings and whipped cream, but he (conservatively) chose a grape cream slush. Following suit, I had a cherry limeade chiller. Both of these concoctions are comprised of a fountain drink mixed with vanilla ice cream. I've never actually considered mixing slush with ice cream, but the effect is like a dreamsicle in multiple flavors. (Grape was tasty, but watermelon would have been my choice!) The cherry limeade was better, though, since it contains fresh squeezed limes plus maraschino cherry juice for sweetness. This coupled with soft serve and topped with whipped cream and a cherry for color was so thick it called for a spoon. (I had to let it set about 10 minutes before I could slurp it through a straw, but it was worth the wait!)

Obviously, the lesson here is that all hurts can be cured with a little care, a little love, and a lot of ice cream.

That's What Family's For

Tonight I am recuperating after going five rounds with a migraine. (Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed!) The meds have finally kicked in, so while I have a reprieve that allows me to look at a computer monitor without flinching, I thought this would be a good time to digress from the topic of food. (Though, love is food for the soul, so maybe it still counts.)

I was raised to be self-reliant. My family taught me that it is better to take care of yourself whenever possible. Don't whine. Don't cry over little things. Resist the urge to run home for help if you can work out the problem yourself. These are basic tenets that have helped me weather emotional and physical ups and downs over the years. I learned to be strong and brave, to take chances when the possible payoff is worth the risk, and to pull myself up and brush myself off when I fall. These values aren't earth-shattering secrets; they're the same ones that have defined America for more than two centuries.

But sometimes, even when you can take care of yourself, it's nice to know someone else is looking out for you. Today is a perfect example of that. As the headache raged and grew through Sunday morning services, the worried look on my husband's face told me I was in good hands. As soon as church concluded, he whisked me away from the well-meaning talkers who would monopolize another half an hour saying nothing. In the car, he turned the air down low so the cold would assuage the heat of my face. Upon our arrival at home, he promptly handed me medication and sent me to bed. Next he called my mom so she wouldn't worry when the phone didn't ring for our customary Sunday marathon. (This call is measured only in the amount of time it takes for my cell phone battery to die!) As the day progressed, he vacuumed the living room, fed me lunch, fetched cold drinks, and allowed me to sit on the sofa doing nothing while he finished the laundry.

The point of this story is that while I could have taken care of myself, the feeling of warmth and security involved in being taken care of is priceless. If Jeff takes care of me this well when something small happens, imagine what he's like during a major catastrophe. Days like today remind me I am truly loved.

It's Good to Have Friends

After five hours of food and laughter, I am sated. Tonight Jeff and I were fortunate enough to garner a dinner invitation followed by a lively round of "Would You Rather," a board game proffered by our hosts. By the time the evening ended, my face hurt from laughing so much.

We arrived sharply at 5 p.m. and were given the grand tour of the house and offered snacks and beverages. Since the dinner had a Mexican-with-a-twist theme, the chips were multi-colored and the spunky salsa was balanced with fresh strawberries for a sweet hit. In addition, the margaritas were made with primo agave tequila, blue Curacao, and a little orange juice. The flavor was sweet without being overpowering. Better than that, the color was reminiscent of the bright green ocean hues prevalent along the gulf coast - beautiful and delicious.

A second - highly entertaining - couple arrived not long after we did, and the party atmosphere started in earnest setting the tone for our tasty evening. Dinner started with black bean soup punctuated with onions. The beans were cooked well - not too chewy nor too mushy. The onions and spices played nicely with the sturdy beans. Next, we were served a cool, crisp green salad with a tangy, Asian dressing which was sweet and gingery. This touch of Asian flavor paired well with the rest of the menu and kept the salad from being predictable. Following the salad, main course plates were served up with seafood enchiladas. These beauties included crab and shrimp meat rolled into tortillas with Fontina and cheddar cheeses. The rich sauce had cream and cream cheese in the base. These decadent and wonderful babies were plated with a rice and bean combo that allowed every drop of sauce to be absorbed and enjoyed.

After all this food, we adjourned to the living room for more lively conversation and a chance to let our stomachs rest before dessert. Upon returning to the table, we were presented with apple enchiladas and ice cream. (I must admit, in my dream world warm apple desserts are paired with cold, creamy, vanilla ice cream on a daily basis.) This creation featured a cinnamon apple pie filling rolled into tortillas and baked to perfection. I was tempted to lick the plate, and amused when one of the other guests suggested her date do so. (Just for clarification, he did not, but he did contemplate it.)

The evening was rounded out with a game in which people are presented impossible scenarios and forced to make a choice. For example, one question read something like, "Would you rather be famous for surviving more shark attacks than anyone else or more lightning strikes?" The reader guesses how the group will answer, and then discussion ensues. Challenge cards present different opportunities for prediction or participation by others in the group. In one challenge a guest spent 90 seconds making appropriate noises as the rest of the group called out animals. I can tell you, her impersonation of a duck-billed platypus was a riot!

At around 10 p.m. we called it a night and drove home recounting the best comments and laughing all over again. Nights like these restore my faith in others and life in general because I remember what is important: good food and good people to share it with.