I’m sure you’ve been wondering why I haven’t posted our family pictures. Was it so traumatic that we didn’t even get one presentable photo? Did we all take one look at the little gray box my brother was readying to aim at us, dissolve in tears, and turn tail and run?

Actually, no. It was a nice little session, thank you very much. And for the most part we behaved maturely. I only had to lecture Mr. Handsome once, halfway through when he loudly announced, “Okay, that’s enough! I’m done.”

I promptly bit off his head: “Don’t you dare call it quits! Do not cut this thing short. We are taking pictures and we are going to take a lot of pictures. So just you shush.” The next time he said started griping, only about ten clicks later (I’m telling you, the patience of this guy is absolutely non-existent), he took one look at me and quickly added, “I know. I know. I’m not supposed to say that.”

My Balding Bro snapped away, persistently and steadily, constantly chuckling to himself. I can’t imagine why.

Sweetsie was the only one out of sorts. She wouldn’t put her head up.

And then she started strangling Mr. Handsome.

Now we’re getting our act together, cheesing like the best of them.

Oops, not quite. The kids need a little pep talk.

Now Mr. Handsome needs another talking-to. Or at least a good dose of my evil eye.

There we go. Now we’re back on track.

Hey, lookie there! I’ve sprouted another child!

I bet you didn’t know that—that I don’t actually give birth—I just sprout my babies. Self-regeneration, I think it’s called. One minute I’m walking around doing normal everyday things, wearing jeans, no less, and the next minute there’s a new kid riding on my hip. It’s a painless way to reproduce, though I’ll admit it’s just a wee bit unnerving.

But she is a dearie. The other kids seem to be taken by her, not at all surprised to see her protruding from my side. In general, I’ve found kids to be fairly accepting of life and it’s surprises.

Last night I made that Blueberry Coffee Cake again. Actually, I made a double batch of the batter and to half of it I added the blueberries—that was one cake. To the other half of the dough I added a cup of peeled, sliced pears and a cup of freshly picked red raspberries. (The fruit was soft and would have mushed up if I had stirred it in to the batter, so I first spread a thin layer of the dough over the bottom of the pan and then I distributed two-thirds of the fruit over top. I gently spread the rest of the dough over the fruit, and then sprinkled the last of the fruit over it all.)

The reason I’m posting about this is because, well, to put it simply, it was sublime. Cake-y, but at the same time densely creamy and cheesey, and of course, fruity.

That’s all I’m going to say now. Just tuck that nugget of information inside your hat, right at the edge close to the brim, ready to be pulled out if you ever decide to make that coffee cake. Which you should.

I go through phases with foods, especially with the starches. For a while our meals will be bread based, and then I’ll move on to potatoes. Pasta and rice take their turns. Once I start thinking in terms of one starch, then it’s all I can think of. I get in a rut. Pasta this and pasta that. Eventually we tire of the repeats and variations on a theme, and I shift, with great mental groaning and moaning, my focus to something else, say rice.

We’ve been eating a lot of rice. I made a big batch of Indian chicken and brown rice for dinner the other week and then we had tons of leftovers. We finished off the brown rice before the chicken, so I made a pot of white basmati rice to accompany the leftovers.

Brown Rice
From my Girlfriend Kris

2 3/4 cups brown rice (right now I’m using Organic Californian Long Grain)
5 cups water (or chicken broth, for a special treat)
1 ½ teaspoons salt
1-2 tablespoons olive oil

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan bring the water to a rolling boil. Add the salt and olive oil, then pour in the rice. Give it a good stir. Bring the water up to a boil again (with the lid off), stir again, and then turn the heat down to low and put the lid back on the kettle. (If you have an electric stove, scoot the kettle half off the burner for the first several minutes to let the burner cool down a bit.)

Let the rice cook, untouched, for 45 minutes. Then, turn the heat off, but leave the kettle on the burner, untouched, for another 10 minutes. Take the lid off to see if all the liquid has been absorbed. If so, it is done and you can fluff and serve. If not, turn the burner back on to low heat and cook the rice until it’s done, checking every five minutes or so.

I like to make supper’s rice during the middle of the afternoon. That way I don’t have to feel rushed come suppertime. Also, I think it tastes better when it’s had some time to set for awhile.

White Rice

2 cups white rice (I’ve been using Lone Pine Organic Long Grain Basmati)
4 cups water
2 teaspoons salt

Put all the ingredients in a heavy-bottomed saucepan and stir well. With the lid off, bring the mixture to a rolling boil. Stir it well, and then turn the heat down to a low simmer and put the lid back on the kettle. Take precautions so the rice doesn’t boil over (see the recipe for brown rice for further details in regards to this part). Let the rice cook, untouched, for 20 minutes.

Now, on to the chicken part of our rice fest.

This last time that I made this Indian chicken dish, I used three pounds of skinless, bloneless chicken breasts. Yes, they were non-organic (gasp). I am not a perfectionist, and to be blunt, some of the time I just don’t really care. (GASP!)

(Hey! That big collective gasp just sucked all the air out of the room. I can’t breathe. Exhale, please!)

Sometimes I do care. Really. I do have a bit of a conscience. I can be politically correct. (Last year’s Thanksgiving turkey was organic and very, very expensive. Just ask Mr. Handsome. He had a cow about it. A figurative one, of course. If it hadn’t been a figurative one, we could’ve butchered it and eaten the cow instead of the very very expensive organic turkey.) But you know, you can only worry about so much. And boneless, skinless chicken breast is really easy and quick and yummy, and sometimes that’s all I have energy to care about.

So anyway, I chopped up the non-organic chicken, cooked them in a little bit of oil, and then added the chicken to the sauce and baked it for about an hour. This isn’t how I normally make this dish (now will you please stop waggling your fingers at me?), so in the following recipe I’ll explain how to make your Indian chicken, the PC way. (If you want to follow my non-organic example, feel free. I won’t gasp.)

Indian Chicken
Adapted from the More-With-Less Cookbook

This is one of my standby company dinners: simple, spicy (but not so much so that it’s offensive to a child’s palate), unusual, and delicious.

1 organic, free-range chicken, about three pounds, purchased downtown at your local farmer’s market
3 large onions, from your garden, chopped
3 tablespoons oil or butter
5 tablespoons flour
3 tablespoons curry powder
1 ½ teaspoons ginger
1 ½ teaspoons salt
½ cup honey
1/3 cup soy sauce
4-5 cups chicken broth, that you made yourself

Boil the chicken in a pot of water until the chicken is falling off the bone. Remove the chicken from the pot and leave it alone until it’s cool enough to handle. Pick all the bits of chicken off the bones, chopping up the bigger pieces. Put the bits and pieces of meat into a bowl and set aside. Do not throw out the chicken bones and fat—put them all back in the soup pot and make a chicken broth.

(For my chicken broth, I cover the bones and fat with water, filling the kettle up to the very top. I add a chopped onion, carrot, and stalk of celery, bay leaves, peppercorns, and salt. I simmer the whole mess for 8-12 hours, strain the mixture and put the broth in jars, filling them only three-quarters full, and stick them in the freezer.)

In another soup pot, one with a thick bottom, saute the onions in the oil or butter. When they are tender, add the flour, curry powder, ginger, and salt. Stir well, and then add the honey, soy sauce, and chicken broth. Bring the sauce up to a simmer, stirring well, until it has thickened. Add the chicken pieces and heat through. Serve over brown or white rice.

Indian chicken leftovers freeze well.