• the quotidian (1.9.12)

    Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
    everyday; ordinary; commonplace

    *lunching on leftovers: pork tamale, oven-roasted poblanos, red beans, sour cream, mmm
    *bathtime humor
    *fun, deconstructed: a tree, a come-along, part of an old tire, a rope, a board, and siblings
    *cooking projects galore = dirty dishes galore
    *freezing cold weather and snow flurries at the beginning of the week gave way to…
    *brilliant blue skies and 60 degree weather at the end: it’s not climate change, folks—it’s climate WHIPLASH
    *studying: he’s joined our church’s Bible quizzing team, and is loving it
    *posh nosh: have you seen it? A BBC cooking satire, it’s a little on the raunchy side (my kids have seen some of it, though that’s probably not a good thing). Today I took notes. The mussels get “irritated” (scrubbed) and “thrilled” (boiled), and they have “free-range, homeschooled chicken.” They make their own stock, though “by all means, buy stock cubes if you have low self-esteem.” A few more episodes, and I may revamp the way I write recipes. You’ve been warned.
    *a new used Bible: at our church, the 12-year-olds are gifted Bibles with a twist—the parents have already had them for several months and have passed them around to family and friends so that they can mark up the pages and jot down their thoughts, words of encouragement, etc. This past weekend, my husband and son went to the 12-year-old overnight retreat. It’s a small affair, just the kids and one parent, plus the pastors—the focus of which is to celebrate and prepare for the upcoming teen years. The Sunday service following, the Bibles are gifted.
    *muffins: his breakfast contribution at the retreat
    *frying up the leftover pancake batter (fyi, three days in the fridge is too long): but just look at that hair! It’s red! Also, is it wrong for mothers to imitate their daughters’ hairstyles? Because I’m on the verge of doing just that.
    *sick girl: the (thankfully mild) bug has been making its rounds
    *birthday books: what I bought with my birthday money (and one more thing is yet to come)

    This same time, years previous: hog butchering, moving big sticks of wood, baking hash brown potatoes

  • so worth it

    Last night I took the girls to see Much Ado About Nothing. It was pay-what-you-will night, and, once again, we got to sit on the stage. The funnies kept happening, wave after wave of them. I laughed so hard my face hurt.

    I let the girls buy a treat from the snack cart. Spending outrageous sums of money for sugary drinks is one of my absolute no-nos, but I was struck with the image that my grown-up girls will have of me: our poor, pinchy mother who didn’t like to spend extra pennies on the fun stuff in life. That sour picture in my mind, I cracked open my wallet.

    Their eyes widened in amazed disbelief, but they wasted no time snatching up the twenty and prancing up to the cart where they asked for a Sprite in two cups and a bag of gummy bears. On their stools again, they gushed their thanks, thus confirming that I am correctly perceiving their image of me.

    But back to the play. It was hysterically funny. Really, really funny. On numerous occasions, the serious characters had trouble keeping a straight face, and there was one moment when the entire cast dissolved in laughter, unable to go on with their lines (thanks to the sharp-tongued Beatrice). But only twice did actors call “privy” (I mean “PRITHEE,” OH MY WORD, MY FACE IS RED!) which is pretty amazing considering the cast had only been rehearsing the show FOR TWO DAYS.

    This rawness is what makes the theater invigorating, alive, addicting. It’s pure magic to sit on stage (or anywhere else in the room, for that matter) with these incredibly gifted people as they act out these old (and sometimes new) stories.

    Also, where else would I allow strange men to (stage) whisper stuff about goat guts in my seven-year-old daughter’s ear? Nowhere, I tell you. The theater is special.

    To be clear, nobody is paying me to sing the theater’s praises
    I’m doing it all on my own, and quite naturally, too.
  • buckwheat apple pancakes

    Last night when I went grocery shopping, I didn’t buy the cereal. I was supposed to pick up a couple boxes, along with the ladyfinger popcorn, onions, and sour cream, but then my published words came back to haunt me. I had made some disparaging comments about bought cereal, referring to it as “fluff-o-nothing,” and then I said “…boxed cereals are expensive, not to mention a waste of calories, so I’ve taken to buying oats in 50-pound sacks and mixing up my own version of breakfast.”

    So there was pretty much no way I could put a box of Cheerios in my cart. If someone saw me, imagine! In a matter of seconds, maybe minutes, the whole world would know I was an imposter, a fake, a hypocrite. My writing career would be over before it even started.

    Such were the irrational thoughts of Yours Truly. I knew I was acting a little hyper-sensitive, a little crazy—like anyone cares, you goose!—and I laughed at myself (though not out loud). I did not, however, touch a single box of fluff.

    So we had pancakes for breakfast this morning.

    Actually, I had already mixed up the batter that afternoon in anticipation of six hungry munchkins at my table (two extra kids were staying over), so that particular cereal turmoil was irrelevant to this particular meal.

    I’d already made these pancakes a couple weeks before, and in spite of them being one hundred percent whole grain, half of that being the rather strong-tasting buckwheat, the kids ate them right up. They didn’t pig out, mind you, but they made favorable noises and liked them well enough for me to add them to our pancake repertoire—a repertoire which is getting rather lengthy, me thinks.

    Batter, not sludge. Promise.

    Pancakes We Have In Our Repertoire

    Pancakes are happy food. They make the world go round, or at least our day get started. Eat up!

    Back to these buckwheat pancakes. I got the recipe from my new cookbook, Good to the Grain by Kim Boyce

    Stop it right there. I gotta tell you about this book. I had been lusting after it for months and months and months. All the other food bloggers were chortling its praises and I felt all woeful since I wasn’t in the know. But then my mother gave me some hot diggity dog birthday cash (thanks, Mom!).

    Already, the book looks like it’s been through a minor war, what with the sticky notes poking out around the edges, the smudged and wrinkled pages, and the kid scribbles.

    Kim breaks the recipes into sections according to flours, so after a quick read-through, I honed in on the recipes that called for the flours I already had, and just today I mixed up my own multigrain flour (whole wheat, barley, rye, millet, and oat flour).

    I’m sampling recipes on a regular basis, trying to get a better grasp of baking with whole grains. I find I want more information than what Kim provides, but that doesn’t bother me too much. I’m learning lots—I can always go deeper later.

    Oh, and one final—and perhaps the most important—thing: Kim is focused on creating recipes that taste good. She’s not into that cut-out-the-butter and reduce-the-sugar crap. She’s a pastry chef, for crying out loud! These recipes are all about flavor, about exploring the grains for their own unique tastes (and ooo, lookie! They’re good for you, too!), and that, my friends, is a bandwagon I will happily hop on.

    Anyway, that’s how I came upon this buckwheat pannycake recipe. The end.

    Buckwheat Apple Pancakes
    Adapted from Good to the Grain by Kim Boyce

    The original recipe calls for white sugar instead of brown, pears instead of apples, and milk instead of buttermilk.

    I make a double batch (the night before) and save the leftover batter in the fridge for another morning. The batter keeps for at least 24 hours, but quite possibly 48. (I’ll know tomorrow.)

    1 cup buckwheat flour
    1 cup whole wheat flour
    3 tablespoons brown sugar
    2 teaspoons baking powder
    3/4 teaspoon salt
    1 1/4 cups buttermilk (or milk)
    1 egg, beaten
    2 tablespoons butter, melted
    1 ½ cups grated apple

    Stir together the dry ingredients. Add the wet and stir lightly, just until combine. (At this point, you can refrigerate the batter for up to 24 hours, though they are best made right away, or at least so says Kim.)

    Fry the pancakes in plenty of butter. The batter will be very thick, so put small dollops in the pan and then spread them out with the back of the spoon.

    Serve hot, with more butter and syrup.

    This same time, years previous: sweet and spicy popcorn