It’s a Science

I try my best to pump my child full of really good food.
It’s easy considering she eats two breakfasts, two lunches, two dinners, and a dessert every day. Pretty sure she’s either the proud owner of a very large tapeworm, or training for a triathlon.

We spent part of the day at the pool this morning.
Last month, we were at the pool for ten hours. I learned that day that my child is immune to sunscreen. She is not immune to freezing cold water, though, unless it’s at home in the shower. Today, she got too much sun, again. I put sunscreen on her every hour. We’re back to wearing swim shirts, and me trying to remind everyone that I do, in fact, love her and spend a lot of time trying to keep her safe and healthy. She was comparing her white belly to her tan/red chest and shoulder. She said, “I wish I was this pale again.” Such a change from the 80s when no one wore sunscreen and everyone was out to be as dark as humanly possible.

To make up for being overexposed today, I coated her in aloe from our plant and I made some of her favorite foods for dinner. Kept up with the green theme. It is my hope that she is healed from the inside out, and that we somehow figure out the perfect recipe for skin protection.

I heated olive oil and butter in a skillet with one whole clove of garlic. I used a vegetable peeler to make zucchini ribbons. I added some kosher salt and removed the garlic clove as I was preparing to plate the noodles. I topped them with shredded mozzarella cheese.

I prepared the steelhead trout in the same skillet I cooked the noodles in; no need to add more butter or oil. She ate every bite of all of this PLUS a bowl of vanilla ice cream. And hey! There’s nothing wrong with being vanilla.

Keeping It Simple

I am a mostly grateful mother when it comes to mealtime. My daughter eats pretty much constantly. And she enjoys things like raw peppers, sushi, shellfish, Indian food, hummus, and edamame.

That being said, she does exactly what I did as a child. She eats one thing at a time, and will save the strangest things for last; like eggs. She doesn’t like things touching. My dad used to say about me, “When she gets married, we’re going to register her for Chinet.” 

My daughter has recently reverted to her 2-year-old self. She is constantly asking me “Why” this and “Why” that. “What does that mean?” “Who was the first person to hold me?” “Where was the first restaurant I ever ate?” “What was the first song I ever heard?” We’re taking it back to the basics here, this summer. So, after receiving a zucchini from my cousin’s wife’s garden, I thought we would make a very basic dinner. And, wouldn’t you know it? My daughter dumped her roasted butternut squash into her zucchini noodles. (She is always surprising me.)

I wish I had better photos, but that’s what usually comes of nighttime and dinnertime.

I was happy I had zucchini left after all the raw zucchini she stole off the cutting board. Reminds me of me and my poor mother peeling and chopping potatoes. One for the pot, three for me. 

I peeled the zucchini in long strips with a vegetable peeler. I heated 1T of butter and 1T of oil in a skillet with nearly a whole clove of garlic (you could use more, of course). Then I added the zucchini strips, salt, and pepper. I cooked it for about a minute. It was out. of. this. world. My kid begged for more, and was disappointed when I told her we were out.

I also roasted the butternut squash, after peeling and chopping, tossing in oil, with salt and pepper. I have to say, I think butternut squash has become my favorite vegetable. I melts in your mouth, and has such an amazing flavor, which is such a great reward considering all the work you have to get into the darn thing and on to the baking sheet.

This is going to be a recurring theme for the rest of the summer.
Back to basics. Yep.
And I’m loving it.

Rehab

My child would have pasta every day. When I ask her what she wants for dinner, she says, “PASTA” every. time. 

I find this to be a huge coup, considering we’re gluten free. 

The other night at the grocery, I purchased Barilla gluten free pasta. I did not want to buy it. I had a coupon that for some reason outweighed their views on homosexuality. I can’t overlook it. *sad face* 

Even sadder face that I must tell you, after five years of eating gluten free pasta, Barilla is hands down the best I’ve ever tasted. 

I cooked the pasta, and with about 2 minutes left, I added broken bits of asparagus. 

In a separate bowl, I whisked together 1 egg and 1/6 cup of Parmesan cheese. 

I tossed the hot pasta in the egg mixture. 

Eh. Mah. Gawd. 

It was Ah. Maze. Zing. 

You could easily cook some bacon and reduce the grease with white wine. 

It is not going to break my child of her pasta habit. And, now…I’ve got one myself. 

Highly recommend. 

Just Another Saturday

I have always cleaned on Saturdays. My ex-H hated it. “You’re wasting the whole day inside.” Didn’t matter if was raining or sunny, he couldn’t deal. I had never really thought of it before, but he was right. I guess when you’re single and working and socializing, not a lot gets done on a Saturday day, so I cleaned and did laundry. It’s a horrible habit. Especially now that I have a child. She certainly does not enjoy sitting around and watching me clean. 

Today was no different. (I’ll learn…eventually.) I did laundry and dishes (always with the dishes). Straightened up a bit here and there. Wrote out the grocery list. Plopped her down in front of Enchanted. 

At the grocery, I restrained myself from most things, and then heard myself saying aloud, “Let the child have some damned hot chocolate.” I should be making it from scratch (as my dear friend of Candy Coated Reality pointed out), but sometimes you just have to let go. Today was one of those times. 

When I got home, I couldn’t get the chips and salsa out of the bag fast enough. Then, I had gluten free Udi’s cinnamon raisin toast with Nutella. It was $1 off, and it’s quite delicious. Then…I had rice with gluten free chicken tenders and sriracha. I found the tenders at Target, and I have to admit…they are quite tasty. 

I may be the only person with sriracha left in the whole world. There is not expiration date on this thing, so who knows if I’m eating poison or not. Mmm. Delicious poison. 

I previously mentioned my crazy dry eye issue I’ve been having. I got to wondering about the eye liner/mascara/eye shadow I was using. I would look at myself in the mirror and almost see the red veins popping out on my eyeballs. There wasn’t a mention on the packaging of anything derived from gluten, but you never know. 

I went to sephora.com last week and typed “gluten free” into the search bar. A bunch of stuff showed up; a few of them being these: 

I am liking them very much. I think the eyeliner has made a big difference. The texture is quite nice. The liner goes on very easily, and is easy to wipe off when you make a mistake which I often do. The lipstick is very lovely. I should have taken a picture of it opened at either end. It has two colors, a light-ish pink and a darker rose color. I only use gluten free lip products since you basically eat lipstick. And, I know people say that no one should be affected by topical products that contain gluten. I find that to be a real piece of malarky, considering skin is the largest organ in the body. Hello? Transdermal patches, anyone? 

The mascara is also quite lovely. Except for the fact that I am a freaking idiot and could not figure out how to get the freaking thing open. That gold contraption stays. I was trying to pull it off and ripped off the cap. When I put it back on, it was misaligned and ain’t nobody got time for that. I remove my eye makeup with olive oil, and after smearing that on (and on…and on…and on…) I looked like I’d just gone five rounds with Mike Tyson. It has some staying power. But, it’s gluten free. And it didn’t bother my eyes at all. I’m going to go with it. 

Tomorrow, I will end the evening making a chocolate cake with chocolate icing. I have serious issues. I’d rather have a piece of cake than crappy chocolate. Wait. That’s not true. I’m not picky about chocolate. It’s a sickness, okay. Leave me alone.

 

FAIL

I haven’t had a complete failure in the kitchen in a very long time. Last night…was epic.

The child has been requesting lasagna for a few weeks. We were expecting a huge ice storm by early evening. I stopped at the grocery and picked up sauce and three different cheeses. At the checkout, I saw that someone had neglected to take a significant amount of change from the machine. I tried to find the guy who had been in front of me outside, but the parking lot had eight hundred and fortyleven people in it. I took the money to customer service. My payment for bringing good karma on myself was this disgusting dish:

I don’t even know what to say about that hideous mess. The sauce tasted like your fork when you would accidentally rub it on your TV dinner.

Do not buy this. It is foul. But you probably won’t listen to me, and you’ll buy it anyway, and then I’ll say, “Oh, I’m so sorry!” because I am not one of those “Told ya” kind of people, so if you want to waste yo’ monies…feel free. Here’s my shoulder.

Sweet daughter had a hot dog and pickles for dinner, and I grabbed the bag of corn chips and some salsa. Emptied the jar into my favorite salsa bowl. Opened the chips. And they were FREAKING NO SALT ADDED. WHO DOES THE FAHKING SHOPPING AROUND HERE?

Then today, I worked from home and every. single. thing. I ate was some form of chocolate. I made my frittata for breakfast. My daughter was still hungry, so I chopped an apple for her and gave her some caramel. She didn’t finish all the caramel, so I threw it away. Then I got it out of the garbage and put it on some chocolate coconut milk Trader Joe’s ice cream. That was a low point. And it wasn’t great on it, either.

At dinner, I burned my child’s pizza, and the snicker doodles.

So much for karma.

Secret Single Behavior

If I didn’t have a child (cannot even imagine such a thing), I would spend nowhere near the amount of money I spend on groceries every week/month. I cannot believe what two people eat, especially two rather small people. 

I would go back to my weird habits of eating chips and salsa for dinner, or cereal, or…cookies and milk. 

The child wanted pizza tonight, so I did a little experiment for my own dinner. I had two slices of ham that I cut into triangles. I layered two in muffin cups that had been sprayed with non-stick spray. 

I cracked one egg into each cup. I added chopped red peppers, shredded cheese, and scallions. 

Next time, I think adding some thyme or crushed red pepper would be good. I cooked them at 400 degrees for about 18 minutes (13 mins., back in for 3 mins., back in for 2 mins.). 

After they were finished, I sprinkled them with a little kosher salt and black pepper. I ate one. Then two. And the last two snicker doodles. 

THEY’RE GONE! Woohoo! 

So, I Could Have Done That

How many snicker doodles are too many? Say six, because I ate five.

I didn’t start with five. I started with two. And then I ate them. And then I went back for two more and realized how stupid that was, and grabbed a third. They’re so good. They’re also really easy. I always think I’ve forgotten an ingredient. You have to let them cool completely or they will just crumble. (That was completely not on purpose).

I should, instead, be working out. But…no. I did help a friend move today. It was so heartwarming and just what I needed. I was feeling kind of sorry for myself. Next thing I knew, I was in my car driving to the meeting place for a little brigade. It was a completely selfish act to make me feel better, and it worked. There was a lot of love there.

For dinner, I made pork tenderloin. I could have just made a little something for my daughter, and eaten chips and salsa standing up at the counter. But I didn’t. Tenderloin was thawed, and it is always delicious. I brown it in honey and butter on medium heat, then I finish cooking it in a 375 degree oven.

I remove the tenderloin and add hot water from my kettle to the pan to loosen the browned bits. I reduce the sauce and pour it over the tenderloin. And tonight, I made mashed potatoes. Only two items, but it was plenty.  

My daughter said, “I love this honey chicken.” I could have corrected her, but…no.

I could also throw the rest of these away.

I Can See Clearly Now

So, a few months ago, I suddenly couldn’t see out of my right eye. I mean…I could see, but it was as if someone had licked my right lens in my eye glasses. Don’t ask how I know to compare it to that. I went to the eye doctor and had them adjust my glasses. It helped a little, and then the next week I was back to seeing not only double but quadruple of anything that was illuminated. This made driving at night and working on the computer impossible. Back to the eye doctor I went. Another adjustment and a recommendation to come in for a glasses check. I’d only had them a month. I thought perhaps the prescription was a little off and I just hadn’t noticed. I don’t drive a lot at night since my child is in bed at 8 p.m. But, during the day, I was taking my glasses off repeatedly trying to focus on the computer screen.

I went in for the eye glasses check-up. I took my daughter with me simply thinking they would order a new lens. When the eye doctor started to hyperventilate, I got a tad bit panicky. “Have. You. Had. An. Eye. Injury?” he asked. No. I do remember poking myself in the eye with my mascara wand, but from what I gathered…that wouldn’t have caused it. What I think would have caused it would have been an fork to the eyeball from 16 stories.  I burst into silent tears, scaring my poor child out of her wits. All I could hear was my mother saying, “You only get two eyes” like she had said to me so many times as a child. And, for the life of me, I can’t remember why.

I was instructed to wait to hear from a local eye institute for my appointment. They called the next day and made the appointment for a month later. I told the receptionist that I kind of had a feeling it was a little more urgent than that. She said the receptionist made the appointment, but hadn’t spoken to the doctor. She said she would call him and call me back. She did. And then she said, “Yeah. That appointment isn’t going to work.”

A few days later, I was sitting in the waiting room wondering if I was going to have to have rings inserted under my cornea or a cornea transplant. You know…’cause I Wikipediaed it. Keratoconus. A warping of the cornea. In a matter of a few months, my astigmatism had gone from 1.25 to 7.50. I am not an eye doctor, but I can see the seriousness of such a change.

After several doctors came in to check my eye, I was informed I have an “excessive dry eye.” Seriously? Dry eye? You have to be kidding. The head doctor guy said, “I don’t understand how your eye doesn’t bother you.” Well, that’s because I’m a woman. I don’t have time to be bothered.

I was instructed to apply gel drops to my eye twice a day, and an ointment at night. And then twenty 80-year-olds and I were recommended to a dry eye clinic. Awesome. After several weeks, I’m fine. Eyes are back to normal. Thankfully. I have to continue the drops when needed (and considering I wasn’t bothered by it the last time, I’m just going to do it every day). I also have to take fish oil. Evidently, my oil glands in my eye do not express much. I know this because the doctor numbed my eye ball and then squeezed the shet out of my inner bottom lid. I refrained and only said one swear word one time. He apologized and accepted that I probably didn’t like him very much anymore.

The other kicker is (and this is far too much information), I had started taking birth control pills. There may have been a correlation, so I had to forgo the pill for a while. Now, I understand completely that vision. is. of. the. utmost. importance. But I am a selfish bitch, and I really enjoyed not having two cycles a month that each lasted nine days. So, I have the go-ahead to start the pill again and if anything changes with my vision, I need to notify them right away.

So, to end the evening in complete comfort, I made chili. If it was just for me, I would have added chilies and onion. My daughter would have eaten it anyway, but since she refuses to go to the bathroom at school, I thought I’d spare her the added agony. Last night’s dinner was one of those nights I dislike so much; dinner was all the same color: cod, mashed potatoes, applesauce. Bore. Ing. 

• 1.5 lbs. ground beef/turkey
• 1 28 oz. can of Dei Fratelli tomato sauce
• 1 (15 oz.) can spicy chili beans
• 1 (15 oz.) can diced tomatoes
• cinnamon and chili powder

Brown the meat. Drain and add to pot. Add tomato sauce, beans, and tomatoes. Heat through. Sprinkle chili powder and cinnamon on top and stir. I always end with the cinnamon. Don’t know why.

Meanwhile, I cooked quinoa spaghetti, drained it, and added it to the chili.

It’s perfect for lunch for the kiddo in her Thermos, especially on these very cold days covered in snow. She has to have shredded cheese on top, which I put in a container with a snap-in ice pack. I usually pack a side of berries or cucumber slices with it. And a little bit of dark chocolate covered Raisinettes for dessert. And her glasses. Don’t forget her glasses.

The Day

Today was a GREAT day. That doesn’t even cover it. Fantabulosonificent. Something like that. And I really don’t even know why. It just felt great. Dammit. *note to self: by a thesaurus*

My daughter had spaghetti for dinner last night, plain with butter and cheese. After dinner she said, “Can we have spaghetti and meatballs for dinner tomorrow?” So we did.

I moistened nearly a cup of gluten free breads crumbs. I put 1 lb. of ground beef in a large bowl with one egg, 2 T chopped parsley, shredded cheese, 1 clove minced garlic, 1 tsp. salt, and 1/4 tsp. pepper, then mixed. I added the bread crumbs and mixed all together. I heated 1 T olive oil in a skillet and heated the meatballs on all sides. Removed the meatballs and added diced tomatoes in a basil, garlic, oregano seasoning. I had frozen tomato paste and heated it as well. I filled the can of diced tomatoes half-way with water and added that to the pan. I added the meatballs back to the skillet and covered with foil, on low, while I was making the spaghetti. And it was freaking delicious. And I’m giving horrible directions tonight. But I did it. Child asked. Child received. Meatballs for lunch.

5 Things You’d Take on a Deserted Island

As an only child, I can go days and days without speaking to another human. That never happens now that I am a single mom. And that’s fine. Today, my child woke from 12 hours of sleeping (which also never happens) and continued to jump and talk all the day long. I have to admit, it was awful. That famous question about the five things you’d take on a deserted island. As an only child, that sounds FREAKING AMAZING. I wouldn’t take a damned thing! That is the whole point: deserted. Nada. Just me and my thoughts; me sleeping, waking up WHEN I WANT TO WAKE. Oh man. Delightful.

But if I had to cave and pick something, one of those five things would be a pot to make soup in (on the off chance I can procure a fire). I love soup. I could live off of it. Throw any old thing in there. One of the best soups I ever made was for a second date. I had leftover chicken and little else. I found a can of chickpeas and a can of diced tomatoes in the pantry. And one lonely carton of chicken broth. I combined everything in a pot and, after I portioned our servings into bowls, I put a dollop of cottage cheese in the middle. My date was flabbergasted. “Why would you do that? What made you do that?” I think I said something really romantic like,  “Um…it is about to expire.” He informed me that he and his father are the only two people he’d ever known to put cottage cheese in their soup. And that soup was divine. I was proud of my little poor woman’s concoction.

Tonight, I made a soup that trumped that one. I amazed myself. It was from Emeril’s daughters’ gluten free cookbook. A type of tortilla soup with turkey and beans and veggies, it smelled just as good as it looked. It was light and filling. I paired it with their jalapeño cornbread. I forgot to set the timer, but grabbed it in time.

I forgot to take an after pic, so I’ll do that tomorrow on Tumblr (because I’m having it for dinner tomorrow, too. And probably lunch.). This was before I added the broth and water.

The top rack has two chicken breasts in a glass pan. I always make chicken and rice with edamame for my child and her friend. Well, I once tried to change it up a bit and it wasn’t well-received. So, now I stick to what is requested.

This is the best gluten free cornbread I’ve ever had. Better than any store-bought mix. Made with a gluten free flour mix I blend and keep in the refrigerator, and corn meal, green onions, and jalapeños. The texture was perfect, and kept its taste even after dipping it in the soup. Lots left over, and years ago…I used to make cornbread in my cast iron and then eat it for dinner a few nights (and breakfast, and lunch…) with sour cream and heated salsa on top (I love salsa heated in the skillet).

And for dessert (since I made the apple/chocolate/walnut/cinnamon crisp thingy without the girls here and they weren’t too happy about that), I repeated this delicious creation. And I learned, if you refrigerate the leftovers and let a slice come to room temperature, all that brown sugar turns into a dreamy caramel sauce.