• four fun things

    Fun Thing Number One: A Book
    I discovered Fish In A Tree in a list of recommended books for middle schoolers when I was searching for a pleasurable read-alouds with quality writing for my read alouds with the younger two.

    The book’s about regular people with ordinary lives and real issues, told without all the angsty sensationalism — sex, violence, abuse, etc — which seems to crop up in so many books. Not that I’m against books with those topics, but tackling a heavy read at the end of the day when we’re tired isn’t much fun, and bedtime reads, I think, should be all about the fun — something we can all look forward to, or, at a bear minimum, at least don’t dread.  

    Son: Gimme the book! I wanna hold the book!
    Daughter: NO! I was the one who couldn’t read until I was thirteen

    so I get to hold the book!

    ANYWAY. The book was a smash hit, the kind that made me ignore the chapter divisions and plow right through. I even cried, which cracked my kids up because it’s not a sad book. My older daughter read it on her own, too, and loved it, and I recommended it to a friend — she told me that she started it as a read aloud with her son but then he got impatient with her for not reading it as often as he wanted and finished it on his own.

    Fun Thing Number Two: A Conversation
    Here’s a conversation that went down the other night between me — I was laying on the sofa feeling mildly punk and wishing for tea — and my husband who’d come over to chat with me. 

    Me, to my husband: Aw, thank you for making me tea. I didn’t even need to ask. So sweet.

    My husband: I didn’t make you tea. I asked if you wanted me to make you tea.

    Me: No, you didn’t.

    My husband, voice rising: You didn’t tell me to make you tea! I said you should drink some tea.

    Me, lying: I thought you made me tea.

    My husband: Do you want me to make you tea?

    Me: Yes, please.

    And then our older daughter exploded. YOU GUYS. Your conversations are like roundabouts!

    Now whenever my husband and I have one of our rapid-fire, nonsensical, exchanges, my older daughter yells “ROUNDABOUT.” She’s not wrong.

    Fun Thing Number Three: A Good TV Show (Or Two)
    After I finished watching Schitt’s Creek with my husband — my second time; his first (and now he recommends it to everyone) — we started two new shows: Community (Netflix) and Ted Lasso (AppleTV). 

    I heard about Community — an older comedy about life at a community college — from a couple friends, and I kept reading about Ted Lasso on the internets.

    Turns out, both shows are smartly funny and have — Ted Lasso, in particular — a hefty dose of genuine goodwill and decency. Both my husband and I are thoroughly enjoying them, something that ought not be taken for granted since, for us, agreeing on a show is a rare occurance.

    Final seal of approval: the other day my husband made a bold and uncharacteristically perky announcement. “I have a new role model,” he said. “Ted Lasso!” 

    And then he did a giddy little shoulder shimmy, I kid you not.

    And that, my friends, is about as near a rave review as you’ll ever get from my husband.

    Fun Thing Number Four: A Recipe Hack
    I recently discovered an apple pie recipe that called for apple cider reduction: boil a cup of cider down to about two tablespoons of tart-sweet, intensely apple-y syrup to add to apple pie filling.

    While you can’t detect the syrup in the pie outright, it adds a depth of flavor — “the x-factor,” one of my Magpie co-workers calls it — similar to adding chocolate to beef chili, or coffee to chocolate cake. It’s really quite brilliant, I think.

    The cider reduction lasts for weeks (months?) in the fridge, so if you decide to make it, consider reducing a quart or two of cider. It boils down rather quickly, and then you’re all set for a whole winter’s worth of apple pies.

    This same time, years previous: lazy stuffed cabbage rolls, the good and the bad, multigrain bread, chocolate cream pie, peanut noodles, five-minute bread.

  • ham and bean soup

    Every year we make a ham for Christmas, and then every year after Christmas I decide to make ham and bean soup with the scraps but, because I’ve never bothered to nail down a recipe, I end up frantically casting about for a recipe. What I cobble together is, more often than not, decidedly mediocre.

    But this year, the soup turned out dee-LISH-ous, and I was like, “That’s IT. I’m taking notes. This one’s going in my files.” BANG-BANG (the sound of me nailing down a recipe).

    My future self thanks me. 

    Ham and Bean Soup
    Adapted from the blog A Spicy Perspective.

    The original recipe called for navy beans but when I got home from the store I discovered I’d mispurchased Great Northern. Now, looking back, I think one of the reasons we may have liked this soup so much is because I used Great Northern beans — they’re bigger and creamier — and everyone (even the non-bean fans!) gobbled it right up.

    Our ham bone was picked pretty clean so I added two cups of chopped, leftover ham.

    In the above photo (on Day Two of the soup), the kale looks darker and the soup creamier — the beans have begun to break down — than it was on Day One, but it was equally delicious both days. 

    1 pound dried Great Northern (or navy) beans
    1 ham bone
    1 large onion, chopped
    1 tablespoon olive oil
    2 cups chopped ham
    6 cloves garlic, minced
    2 carrots, peeled and diced
    2 stalks celery, diced
    2 teaspoons cumin
    ½ teaspoon dried thyme (or 1 tablespoon fresh)
    ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
    10 cups chicken broth (or water)
    4-6 cups fresh kale, rough chopped

    Soak the beans overnight in cold water. Drain, cover with water again, and simmer over medium heat until almost completely tender. (I skipped the overnight soak and just simmered them longer.) As the ham may be quite salty, do not add any salt to the beans until the very end.

    In a large stockpot, saute the onion, carrot, celery, ham bone, and garlic in the olive oil over medium high heat for about 5-10 minutes. Add the dried thyme, pepper flakes, and cumin and cook another minute. Add four cups of chicken broth and bring to a simmer. Add the mostly-cooked beans along with their cooking water (about four cups, I’m guessing?), and simmer for 30-60 minutes, or until the beans are completely soft. 

    Add the chopped ham and kale and simmer for another 15 minutes, or until the kale is cooked through. Remove the ham bone — pick off any remaining bits of ham and add it to the soup — and season the soup with salt and black pepper.

    Serve with hot biscuits, cornbread, or buttered toast.

    This same time, years previous: salad dressing: a basic formula, lemon cream cake, the quotidian (1.19.15), chuck roast braised in red wine.

  • the quotidian (1.18.21)

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

    Working lunch: chorizo, egg, and warm tortillas.

    Crostata test: rhubarb and red raspberry.

    Sunday dinner door-drop from my mama: incredible chicken with dried prunes and olives.

    The steers have relocated.

    David Copperfield and dishes.

    Girl’s got flair!

    All the time: talking, arguing, and thinking, and in that order.

    In town with a friend, a walk-by sighting of my husband’s work.

    DON’T YOU DARE.

    Dogsitting: killing us with cuteness.

    That’s not how you wear a mask, son.

    Sunday geography lesson, and my new rug.

    This same time, years previous: pozole, no-knead sourdough bread, doing stupid safely, homemade grainy mustard, the quotidian (1.18.16), just do it, cream cheese dip, day one, polenta and greens, snapshots and captions, Julia’s chocolate almond cake.