Mommy athletes? December 26, 2007

I have always considered myself an athlete.  I grew up playing sports, in an era when women were not always applauded for their athletic prowess.  I played softball in the spring and summer and hockey and ringette in the fall and winter.  All through high-school I was either training, or practicing, or playing, or eventually coaching in my senior year.  I attended a college where the only sports open to female athletes were: gymnastics, volleyball, basketball, swimming, and track & field.  None of which I was able to participate in at a competitive level – given my athletic background.  So, I joined the intramural women’s hockey team – where we played different faculty departments and sororities.  Some of the players were competitive, but for the most part it was difficult breaking a sweat.

I graduated from college and put my skates, gloves, pucks, and softballs away.  It was time to grow up, or at least that was the message I received from the rest of society.  I had reached the point in my life where as I had no intention of pursuing athletics professionally (due to limited opportunities) I must shed all vestiges of enjoyment in moving my body to become a grown up.  It’s as if now that you are an adult you aren’t allowed to have fun anymore – instead you have to do boring things like join a gym and count fat grams and mature stuff like that – instead of just listening and feeling your body respond. 

As I near the age of forty I am beginning to slowly regain my athleticism.  I have joined gyms in the past, but have never lasted long.  Part of it is the sheer boredom that is found in repetitive exercise machines, plus the fact that I felt trapped in the great indoors!  I started running in my early 20’s.  It was cheap, easy, and I could do it anywhere and according to my own schedule.  I started running in competitive races – I never placed in my age group – but I slowly noticed an improvement in my times.  I trained for two marathons – but blew my back out training for the first one – and found myself pregnant while training for the second.  So I decided I should stick to the half marathon – a distance where I can actually see an improvement – I think I would run one marathon and be done with it!

I also believe that having children can increase our athleticism.  I see this as our daughter approaches the age of four.  She has taken a couple of ice skating lessons, and we are heading out to the ski hill this weekend.  I grew up in the Rockies and when I moved to NYC had pretty much given up on the idea that I would ever ski again.  However, for Christmas I received a new pair of skis and skates – so I am all set to get things started again.  It will be exciting to see my children grow into their abilities. 

Skating around the outdoor rink this afternoon made me think of the first time that I set out to skate.  Thinking I would hit the ice like my idol, Dorothy Hamill.  I hit the ice of course – but not quite what I expected.  Anyways, it was a great feeling to see the joy in my daughter’s eyes as she did her best to do her version of skating.  I want to have that feeling again.  Forget about all those grown up things I am heading outside to play…

The Trouble with Home-Cooked Meals… December 17, 2007

Why do I do, what I do?  Why do I insist on cooking almost every night for my children (one four year old and one 20 month old)?  Why do I believe it is important for my children to be exposed to good food?  To sit down with them at the table and share a meal?  To involve them in the cooking process as much as they are able to participate?

Some nights things run as smoothly as possible.  The children are engaged in some sort of activity – playing well together – I am in the kitchen dicing, and slicing, and sauteing, and whatever else it is that I do in order to get some sort of delicious home cooked food on the table in time for dinner.  More often than not it is bedlam in the area I call the kitchen – and not always of the disastrous sort – just enough craziness that it feels like I am up against something.  Not the smooth kind of cooking that takes place on TV shows, or the Food Network.  I have always thought that a wonderful reality/cooking show would be to film a mother who comes in the door at around 3:30 or 4:00 and must have a delicious meal on the table by 5:30 – meanwhile her children are flinging themselves at her and around the kitchen as she attempts to put something together.  Move over Rachel Ray and those 30 minute meals that always take way longer than 30 minutes to make!

I digress.  Meal prep at my house usually involves a variety of different stages.  Sometimes I actually start cooking dinner when I get up in the morning – or at least I try to get some of the work done at that time.  Chop an onion, chop some vegetables, put the tofu in the marinade, put all the dry ingredients in one bowl and the wet ingredients in another so all I have to do when I get home is throw them together, or what ever else I can do to reduce the time it takes me to get dinner cooking.  Of course, that only happens on the days when I am organized, on the days when I actually know what we are going to have for dinner before I walk in the door.  Many days it is 3:00 and I am heading for home and I have absolutely no idea what groceries we might have in the refrigerator, let alone what I might concoct for dinner. 

To add to the confusion I am the kind of shopper that goes to the grocery store everyday.  Okay, maybe every second day – but you get the picture.  I like to have fresh produce.  I might have an idea of what kind of food I want to eat a couple days of head, but I don’t think I have the ability to plan out a weeks worth of menus in one shot – although that is my resolution for the coming year so I will check in with more on that later!  I am not the kind that is able to stock pile my refrigerator and freezer with food items.  I have a minimum amount – but have never really caught onto the processed food thing.  Both my sister and my mother have two refrigerators and a deep freeze.  These various contraptions are always FULL!  I have no idea what they have in there, but it kind of scares me.  They are both Costco goers and like to buy in bulk (not that there is anything wrong with that), but I swear they have enough food in there homes to last for at least a year. 

The other issue is – I am a “crash and burn” type of cook.  My husband (who is a classically trained French chef) can whip up a multi-course meal and leave only one bowl in the sink that needs to be cleaned.  If it weren’t for the smells emitting from the oven there is scant evidence that anyone has even cooked a meal.  Myself, on the other hand, leave plenty of evidence that the kitchen has not only been used, but is also well loved.  I generally use every bowl in the kitchen, leave a trail of something snaking across the counter-top or the stove, breadcrumbs or flour invariably spill from their containers, and a variety of other messes all add to the ambiance.  My reasoning is that I only have about 20 minutes to throw a meal together without being bombarded by one or both of the children – therefore, I do not have time to deal with minutiae – like stopping to wipe the counters, or rinse out the blender.  I save that for my housekeeper (oh wait, that is me  too!).

Anyways, enough babbling.  I love to cook.  I enjoy experimenting with foods and flavors – however, my children are not quite at that stage where they are interested in experimenting with their food.  I do have an idea of what my children will eat, so I am able to branch out from there – but sometimes I feel like maybe I should throw in the towel.  Heck, I live in NYC and can get anything delivered to my apartment.  Why don’t I develop a relationship with the drawerful of delivery menus in the front hall table.  But somewhere deep down inside I want better.  Restaurant food tastes okay for awhile – then it is all the same.  Plus, I hate to pay money for something that I know I could have cooked better. 

So what exactly is my point here.  Heading back to my original questions – why do I bother?  I bother because I believe children should eat good food – it doesn’t have to be fancy – but it needs to satisfy.  I believe that children should be involved in food preparation and some nights mine engage fully.  Setting the table, putting pickles in a bowl, spinning and ripping the salad greens.  I believe that taking the time to cook a meal satisfies on so many levels – it is a way to take some time out of your day and sit down and share - or that is at least the romantic notion I carry around in my head.  Some nights we are close to attaining this – all munching and talking away in unison.  Some nights there are turned up noses, and crossed arms, and “This is yucky.  I want noodles”  Which is tough to hear when you have spent time cooking a meal – but I don’t give in – but they are always welcome to eat bread and butter.  I believe that someday we will get there…

What are we celebrating? December 13, 2007

What happened to children’s birthday parties?  Whatever happened to having some kids over to your house, or your backyard (maybe to the bowling alley or a movie if you were lucky), playing pin the tail on the donkey, having cake and ice cream, and calling it a day?  When did things change?  I guess it was somewhere between the time I turned twelve and when my daughter started going to birthday parties, which was about six months ago. 

You’ve come a long way humble birthday party!  In all fairness to the birthday party I do live in Manhattan where things are often larger than life and space is at a premium so it is not always possible to have a party in your own home.  However, it seems like kiddie birthday parties are a big thing everywhere – according to the amount of coverage it receives in national magazines. 

This is my first year of the “birthday party”.  My daughter is only four so we are at the cusp of the madness that might descend upon us when it comes to birthday parties.  At least the type of party that is expected of you from the preschool crowd.  First of all it has become necessary to invite the entire class (at 20 kids in my daughter’s class this seems like sheer lunacy) because heaven forbid you would want to upset a child.  Some parents do try to circumvent this by inviting only “all the girls”, or “all the boys” in the class.  It has also become a necessity to invite siblings – both younger and older – and hey, why not bring along both mom and dad at the same time.  This leads to massive amounts, of what I consider to be, “unnecessary people”; a ridiculous amount of junky toys that are disguised as gifts; and turns a four year old’s birthday party into an event that parallels my wedding for the amount of planning that went into the “big day”.

The preschool that my daughter attends suggests that “young children can not handle large parties, therefore it is best to invite two or three friends and to keep activities to a minimum”.  As an educator I agree.  However, it appears that none of the preschool parents listen – as they continue to invite the entire class, and siblings, and parents to the blessed celebration.  The venues tend to become a little crazier each year as well - puppet theaters, painting studio, gymnastics studios, Build-a-Bear.  One family I know rented out a disco for the their daughter’s fifth birthday.  Close to 100 people were there – there was a candy and ice cream bar for children, an open bar for parents, disco dancing lessons, make-up stations – which is all ridiculously ostentatious.  I shudder to think at what the plans might be for her 16th birthday!

I am all for small family celebrations with a few close friends.  Doing dorky things like decorating cupcakes together, and choosing a special meal to cook and eat.   A birthday should definitely be a celebration – but it should have more to do with how your child came into your life – sharing birth stories, or stories from what it felt like the first time you held your child, looking through photo albums together and talking about funny moments from different years – creating a time line, scrapbook or journal that you and your child can add to each year and remark upon the growth – that is what birthdays are all about.  Not the pile of presents, or the over the top party that leaves everyone exhausted, and cranky, and definitely does not honor the child – but only leaves a funny taste in your mouth…. 

Tonight’s the night… December 10, 2007

…for Tofurkey!  Yes, that is right.  I finally manged to get around to cooking the Tofurkey dinner that I have had in my refrigerator since Thanksgiving.  And guess what?  I should have left it in the refrigerator until next Thanksgiving.  Thank goodness the entire meal only cost me $14.99.  Also, thank goodness my husband wasn’t around to witness the debacle – though I might have to send my poor children to counseling to recover from the experience.  Yes, it was that bad…

I was disappointed.  I wanted Tofurkey to withstand all the jokes that are thrown its way.  Tofurkey has somehow become the one vegan/vegetarian product that everyone is familiar with.  It is the one item that my non-vegan friends taunt and tease me with – I guess in its own weird way Tofurkey is sort of like Spam – it doesn’t get a great deal of respect.  I know people that love Tofurkey – which was the reason I went with it.  I ordered it for Thanksgiving and then forgot to take it to the cabin.  It had since taken up residence in my refrigerator and I could finally stand it no longer, I was ready to take the plunge…

It tasted so artificial.  I guess that was my biggest disappointment.  I am not sure what I expected it to taste like – but with a list of ingredients an arm’s length long – it wasn’t surprising that it didn’t taste like any real food that I know.  It did bring back memories, buried long ago from my childhood, when my parents would go out for the evening and leave the sitter in charge of putting Swanson’s TV Dinners in the oven.  It had that same sort of fake, processed, mystery ingredient taste. 

The entire experience really just underscored my long held grudge against processed foods – especially organic and all natural “processed” foods – that they are still processed no matter what the quality of the ingredients are – and are therefore, expected to have a long life span – and in the end do you really want to put all those ingredients in your body – natural or not!  Plus, it was all just so weird – eating a product made of non-animal products that was designed to replace and to look like an animal product.  Does that make sense?  I think I will stick to my vegetables, and fruits, and grains, in combinations that leave them with a resemblence to what they might look like in nature.  May the Tofurkey rest in peace, at least in this household…

Where did all my free time go?… December 10, 2007

Sitting at home alone, I cannot help but think what I might be missing out on.  What do people do after dark?  I guess I used to have an idea, but I don’t think I ever really capitalized on it.  Having all that freedom – before children arrived that is.  What did I used to do?  How did I spend my time? 

I know that I spent a lot of time curled up on our couch watching Law and Order reruns (I can never seem to remember exactly who does what in each episode, therefore I continuously become sucked into watching them over and over again), drinking peppermint tea, and eating some variation of snack food.  I guess occasionally I also must have worked out – either taking my time and going to a yoga class, or trying to fit in a run after work.  But how exactly what was I trying to fit a run into?  What the heck else did I do with my life before I had children?

Sure, I worked – but I became really good, really fast at not bringing my work home with me.  I had a husband – but he was usually too busy working late to include in my evening plans – yes we did have the occasional weeknight dinner together, and I know that he also came home for the odd meal which usually meant I would have to either cook him something to eat, or decide which take out menu to use.
I was also working on my master’s degree – but in retrospect I really wasn’t that busy all of the time – especially compared to the busyness of having children.  The reality of being on call 24/7 differs from work schedules, dinner dates, and assignment deadlines.

Not to denigrate the work of others who do not have children.  They are busy doing important work – leading full lives, enjoying themselves, establishing themselves in their careers and creating relationships.  I don’t take away their busyness and say that it is all pointless compared to the busyness of those with children.  However, I do know that it is just different somehow – and I really do not know what it can be compared to. 

I believe it is the resulting lack of “me” time that is built into your day as a mother that can be the most difficult to accept.  Especially when you had some sort of life, engaged in something fulfilling before you had children.  Independence of career, of financial stability, of coursework, and having the freedom to do what you want with your life are pretty much taken for granted by young women – who are not always prepared for the unending commitment that comes with the birth of your first child.  It takes a great effort to remain your self through the entire process, which I believe is completely important in maintaining your sense of sanity.  But there is no doubt about it, your entire life will change. 

I have likened it to Marine boot camp – where you are completely stripped down to nothing and then slowly built back up again.  I believe this is a necessary process on the path to motherhood, and really fatherhood to for that matter.  It is absolutely amazing how demanding a little 7lb bundle of a baby can be – and how you will adapt your entire life around this little being at the snap of their finger. 

The role of a parent in these early stages is really to render one’s self helpless – to absolutely give yourself over to your child – respond to their every need – let them know that you are there for them.  There is too much talk about spoiling a child by picking them up too much, or by responding to every cry – it is extremely hard to spoil a newborn – they need love unconditionally, as sleep deprived as you may be.  Besides spoiling has more to do with the level of consumer consumption that your child undergoes in their lifetime – how quickly you respond to their requests to “have, have, have” – rather than simply holding your child in the middle of the night when they have had a bad dream.

Now that my children are somewhat older (4 years and 20 months), I do see “me” moments slipping back into my life.  There is now time for sips, and sometimes even cups, of peppermint tea; some mornings I can finish most sections of the newspaper; requests are not as demanding, or at least they can wait, until Mommy is finished reading the page, stirring the soup, brushing her teeth.  I don’t take these moments for granted as I once did – time by myself has become precious – now if I could only do something about those bloody Law & Order reruns!

Roasted Green Beans December 6, 2007

DSC_0212Originally uploaded by k.krywko

My first photo is now officially posted! A bowlful (okay, I ate about half of them before I thought about taking a picture) of the roasted green beans*, that I have instantly become smitten with! 
 

 

* Recipe from Veganomicon

My own private energy crisis… December 6, 2007

At what age do you lose the ability to leap out of bed and face the day with boundless energy and enthusiasm?  At what age do you all of a sudden find yourself in dire need of a dose of caffeine before you can even contemplate putting together a complete thought?  And trust me some days the dose needs to be heavier than others!

I ask myself these questions as my two children bound into our bedroom – terrier-like – anywhere between the hours of 5:30 a.m. and 7:00 a.m.  A few mornings last week my 20  month old son believed it to be most engaging to begin his day at 4:30 a.m.  Not very thoughtful of him, I say.

I am not that far gone that I have forgotten what it was like to have an endless supply of energy.  I am just not sure when things changed, exactly.  Perhaps, at some point in college.  After all, that is the point in my life when I began to drink copious amounts of coffee.  A self-perpetuating ritual of dumping about half a tin of milk, and equal amounts of sugar into a paper cup.  At least at that point in my life if I didn’t really feel like awakening and going to class I didn’t really have to.  Most of my morning classes were taught in large sections, so unless there was an exam that day no one would notice my absence.  Plus, college was also a time in my life when I could party with the best of them until about 3:00 a.m. or 4:00 a.m. and still make it through the next day on 2 or 3 hours of sleep.  Oh, if only I could have kept some of that energy on reserve.

Prior to having children I often bounded out of bed myself on weekends, much to the annoyance of my husband.  Unless of course we were out drinking the night before – a graduate school custom that we perhaps outgrew a little later than others.  In my previous life as a childless woman – I was often awake at first light.  Now I could easily fall asleep bathed in the atomic glow of the sun at high noon!  Saturdays were often my long-run days (again, this neatly fits into my previous life) and 6:30 a.m. or 7:00 a.m. always seemed like a good time to start – especially in the summer when the heat and humidity always provided an easy excuse not to run at all.

I think the practice of practically mainlining caffeine began with the introduction of children into our sleep patterns.  Having the second child only intensified the need to drink as much coffee in the shortest period of time possible.  I find myself exhausted in the morning.  My children sleep through the night, I generally fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, and on most nights I get at least seven hours of sleep.  That may not sound like much – but trust me in parenting lingo seven hours of uninterrupted sleep is a small slice of heaven.   My energy crisis has less to do with what happens at night, and more with what happens during the day.  Energy is sucked out of me in little fits and bursts – right from the early hours until it is lights out for the kid-lets at 8:00 p.m.  It is all the usual suspects of modern life – combined with children – unanswered emails, phone calls to return, books to read, games to play, articles to write, research to conduct, meals to prep and cook, husbands to look after, relatives to worry about, presents to buy, groceries to order – and so on, and so off.  I am not complaining – I love my kids, I love my life, I just hope that the price of coffee doesn’t go up….

Who Knew? December 5, 2007

Last night’s dinner – a rather thrown together affair, but one that came out just right.  I usually eat with my kids at 5:00 or 5:30.  My day usually starts at 6:00 a.m., so I am ready to call it dinner at that time.  Yesterday worked out differently – at least for a week night.  First of all my husband said that he would actually be home for dinner.  He travels a great deal, and on many of the nights that he is not traveling he is eating dinner with clients in lavish steakhouses. 

Secondly, my husband had a rather odd request that he wanted “some sort of bean and couscous dish – maybe with some mint or basil thrown in.  You must have a recipe for something like that in one of your vegan cookbooks”.  Odd for my husband, because he is a full blown carnivore.  If he could figure out how to have steak for three meals a day he would do it – thankfully the idea of steak smoothies have not caught on!  Although, to give my dear husband a break – his palate has expanded to include – tofu, and tempeh, and a greater assortment of vegetables over the past few years.  However, one thing he has refused to grasp onto is the whole “bean thing”.  So, after I picked my jaw up off the floor – I got to work – or I at least thought about getting to work.

Problem #1 – the cookbook that has an awesome bean salad recipe in it is at our cabin.  So, on to plan B – which is to say I began to improvise.  I can do this – I wrote a bloody post on the concept yesterday – so I should be able to pull something out of my hat.  The first thing that needs to happen when you begin to improvise in the kitchen is to give yourself permission to not follow a recipe.  We have become an nation of expert-followers – and are often hesitant or unsure what to do if there is not one in the vicinity.  I know what flavors work together – plus,  I have certainly cooked enough beans in my lifetime to be able to pull something together. 

So, what to do.  Can of black beans in the pantry, excellent (okay, I live in a small Manhattan apartment so I don’t actually have a pantry – but it sounds so grown up), frozen corn in freezer.  I have olive oil and red wine vinegar, salt and pepper so I can throw all that together for some sort of dressing.  Perfect, shallots in the cupboard, I will add one of those.  I will pick up some cilantro, couscous, red peppers, and some kale to serve as a side-dish.  The peppers were a bust at the market 11.99/lb – which is a tad bit ridiculous – so I found a jar of roasted red peppers in my fridge that will work just as well.  I get home throw everything together except for the couscous (and kale, of course), to let the flavors have some time to meld in the fridge.

Feed the kids at their usual time – I am going to eat with my husband after the kids are in bed.  I make the children ravioli and roasted green bean (amazing! Recipe to follow), and kiwi.  I tell them that the green beans are “green bean french fries” and serve them with ketchup.

Kids are in bed.  Remove bean mixture from refrigerator and bring to room temp.  Boil some water – add some couscous and vegan margarine.  Remove from heat, let sit for five minutes.  Mix couscous and bean mixture.  I get a little crazy at the end and slice an avocado and add pine-nuts to the mix – and voila!  Sort, of a kitchen sink approach, but it all worked out in the end.  I never did make the kale.  The roasted green beans I made were incredible (thanks to Veganomicon) I finished the rest of the batch off, which must have been about 3/4 of a lb. 

So, a relatively quick and easy meal.  The green beans were wilting in my refrigerator and my first thought was to steam them and do the usual toss in vegan margarine and watch my children, and myself, try to gag them down.  I am not really that fond of green beans, but for some reason feel compelled to buy them.  Anyway, I have become a devotee after one simple recipe from Veganomicon for roasted green beans- I know it sounds crazy, but trust me.  Preheat oven at 400; trim green beans; toss in olive oil, salt, and pepper (I also added some bread crumbs – but you could just as easily add vegan parm, or nutritional yeast); throw them in the oven for 15 minutes – and then come out crunchy, and tender, and yummy, and just go out and buy some green beans and try them…

Let’s talk about food… December 4, 2007

In particular, let’s talk about vegan food – in all its yummy, naked glory!  Because really, what else is vegan food but fruits, vegetables, nuts, grains – with some odd amounts of soy matter thrown in for good measure.  However, I think that the concept of vegan food still tends to scare the masses.  It is as if some giant vision of beige mock mystery meats or jiggly steamed tofu are permanently linked to the idea of veganism.  And, I do believe that many vegans become hooked on the idea of trying to replicate non-vegan meals that the dependence on soy products, mock meats, etc come into play.  It is like a friend of my always says “I never worried about how I ate until I became a vegan – now I obsess if I am eating the right combination of foods”, which is pretty ironic considering that a vegan diet is completely and perfectly healthy!

In order to help “kick it up a notch” (as my friend Emeril would say – who recently kicked it up a notch himself by removing himself from the Food Network before the final death knell peals) I hope to add some spice and stability to the vegan kitchen by introducing the art of improvising in the kitchen. 

We all have a tendency, especially when starting something new, to stick to the tried and true – so we follow menus, and recipes, and formulas religiously – hoping that we will finally get it right.  Here is where the art of improvising comes into play – where you can finally call a recipe your own, and hopefully soon enough you will cooking an abundance of meals without even consulting a cook book.  My Baba was a great cook – maybe not along today’s standards of cooking where it seems as if everyone is trying to outdo the last person with exotic ingredients and endless preparations (honestly, if a recipe has over 15 ingredients it must be pretty special before I even look at it).  I don’t think we need to keep reinventing the wheel, instead I believe it makes more sense to concentrate on choosing some specific methods/recipes and learning them really well and seeing where they lead you.  Nigella Lawson says that cooking is about doing something over and over again, and I so agree – so roll up your sleeves and hop right in.

Here are two quick and easy basic recipes that you can use in a variety of ways. 

Roasted Peppers - Add these peppers to tomato or bean soups; a bowl of white beans, or any bean salad; potato salad; hash-browns; scrambled tofu; pasta casseroles; pesto; salsas; bruschettas – on other words – they work in pretty much anything!

4 large red/yellow peppers (or a combination).

1 1/2 tbsps olive oil

Kosher salt

Black Pepper

Additional seasonings – thyme/rosemary/cumin/paprika/oregano/basil/cilantro (it is your recipe – you decide what you are in the mood for).

Preheat oven to 450.  Slice peppers into about 4-5 slices per pepper, cut off any white bits that remain.  Place the peppers in a bowl and add olive oil, add salt and pepper and any seasonings and mix thoroughly.  Place peppers on cookie sheet – skin side down.  Roast peppers for about 30 minutes.  The peppers should be tender and slightly browned around the edges.  Serve right out of the oven, or at room temperature.

Slow Roasted Tomatoes- I have seen a lot of recipes for these tomatoes and many of them are indeed “slow roasted”, averaging about 9-10 hours of roasting time.  Now while I believe that good things come to those who wait, I also believe that sometimes you have to go out and make things happen.  With that in mind this recipe kicks the oven temp up a bit, but doesn’t lose out on any of the great tomatoey taste.  These are ready in about 2 1/2 -3 hours.  Think:  come home, put tomatoes in oven, feed kids dinner, give kids bath, check on tomatoes, put kids to bed, make an appetizer plate – roasted tomatoes, crusty bread, olives, stuffed grape leaves (from deli); pour a glass of wine, or two – look like a domestic genius!

These tomatoes can also be added to pizza, pasta, soup, risotto, bruschetta, pesto, salsa – again- be creative!  The best thing is they last in the fridge for a week, or in the freezer for 2 months.

4 lbs ripe tomatoes (about 30 plum or 12-16 regular)

Olive oil

1 tsp sugar

1/2 tsp kosher salt

Black pepper

Preheat oven to 325.  Slice plum tomatoes in half, or quarter regular tomatoes.  Toss tomatoes with olive oil to coat.  Place tomatoes cut side up on baking sheet, sprinkle with sugar, salt, and pepper.  Roast tomatoes for 2 1/2 to 3 hours until they are slightly browned and have lost most of their liquid.  They should be quite shriveled, but should also retina their shape when you pick them up.  Let cool to room temperature.  Be creative!

Both recipes are adapted from The Improvisational Cook by Sally Schneider.  While not a vegan cookbook, has tremendous recipes and ideas.  I particularly like her flavored oils and dressings.

My First Girl’s Weekend… December 1, 2007

So, here I am on my first girl’s weekend.  Okay, it is really a weekend spent with my four year old daughter, but that still counts as a girl’s weekend, right?  The two of us headed up to the Adirondacks yesterday afternoon, leaving my husband and 20 month old son in the city.  My husband was the one to encourage the two of us to come here by our selves,which everyone I have talked to said was, “very brave of him”, but I am not sure what exactly the “brave” part is – it is his son after all,  and nobody tells me how “brave” I am when I spend time alone with the children, but I don’t really expect anyone too – such is the plight of a mother – but I digress…

We had an uneventful drive last night, although we did hit quite a bad snow storm which made conditions a little treacherous for the last 30 miles, but we arrived intact.  After a quick snack, it was bed for both of us.  The morning started slow enough – we slept in until 7:00 (my son generally awakens at 5:30, so trust me 7:00 was a luxury).  My daughter did some crafty things, I had a shower, we waited for some lumber to be delivered, and for someone to come measure our kitchen.  Not much was planned for the afternoon – I thought we would go out for lunch, grab some groceries for dinner, and then go to the nursery to see what we could plant in the Spring, and then go to Main Street and look at some shops. 

Well, we never made it past lunch and the grocery store.  Lunch was a disaster – behavior and attitude wise – from my dear daughter.  Up, and down, and all around!  You would think that we have never eaten in a restaurant before.  Generally, when we do eat out – my daughter is quite content with sticker books, drawing paraphernalia, and the odd children’s book.  However, today she was having none of it.  I had brought along some new little sticker books for her, and my writing journal – hoping to generate some ideas and brainstorm.  I don’t think I need to go into details – I am sure that most parents have experienced very similar situations, and most non-parents have witnessed someone else going through the same experience and have thanked their lucky stars that they do not have children!

The car ride home was not happy – lecturing, and tears, a raised voice on my part, and promises to behave starting “right this minute” on the part of my daughter.  Didn’t feel like buying any of it – so we got groceries and spent the rest of the afternoon at home. 

It was at home that I had my “epiphany”.  I happened to pick up a book that I received for Christmas last year entitled, Graceful Parenting, by Eve M. Dreyfus, M.D.  I was hoping to be inspired for some magazine articles that I hope to submit in the coming weeks.  Instead, what I found were these words that lept out to me -

• children do not purposely misbehave, they are not tyring to hurt you or make your life hard, they are doing the best they can
• you don’t need to yell to get your point across
• don’t expect too much from your child – instead learn what to expect from your child at each age

 All sage advice, which of course I wish I had been reminded of before we went out to lunch!  Upon further reflection there was a lot going on at the lunch that I didn’t acknowledge.  First, my expectations were for a nice, quiet, mature meal – where I could spend some time working – while my daughter entertained herself for part of the meal – she obviously had different expectations.  Second, we sat in a booth with a large bench that was perfect for sliding across and driving your mother crazy – we also sat right next to a glass partition that separated the bar from the restaurant – it was a great temptation to my daughter to stand up and see what was going on in the other room.  Third, she was greatly distracted by a large group where a young girl and her brother were running all over the restaurant (which also drives me crazy, but clearly delighted my daughter).  In reality, my daughter didn’t throw food across the restaurant, she didn’t start screaming like a banshee, and for the most part she stayed in her seat (expect for the peeking across the partition), we even managed to have some funny conversation and giggles – not bad for lunch with a four year old. 

As an educator I know what to expect from young children.  It is difficult to change your thinking  mid-stream when you expect more out of your own child than you know they are really capable of achieving.  As I read the sentences listed above, I reached over to my daughter on the couch, gave her a big hug, and told her I loved her.  Her dimpled smile was what I expected.  We will try again tomorrow – and take our weekend one moment at a time…