REALITY

I don't want to eat dinner with Dash and Bella every night. Sometimes I just crave leaning over the kitchen sink with a peach. I'm sick of bombarding my kids with the napkin-in-your-lap-elbows-off-the-table-SIT-DOWN-mouth-closed-while-you-chew-just-try-something-green-just-try-it-once-please requests. It's harder to cook and eat with my kids than without them. It takes more time. More energy. And all those salt-grabbing hands and incessant questions.

But I'm never frustrated for long because my kids are spilling over with something awesome: a love of the family meal and the feeling that the kitchen is the coolest place to be in the house.

Dash will yank me down to his level, give me a rosemary-scented kiss, and whisper. "Mama, I've picked some herbs. Let's make some salad dressing. My recipe."

Or I'll exhale a "wow" as I watch Bella separate an egg. Such ease as she jiggles the delicate yolk in her hand. And the pride she takes in watching the clean white slip down through her fingers into a bowl.

So we have a little gardening and a lot of cooking going on at our house. But imagine an organization that does this on a national level and reaches out to thousands of kids and their families. Alice Waters (of Chez Panisse) and her Edible Schoolyard Project are doing just that by teaching kids to garden, harvest, and cook. And for all you naysayers who believe these aren't valuable skills (I'm not naming any names), try writing a recipe and notice the direct application of science, math, and English. And, of course, there's the ultimate payoff of giving a kid the tools to feed himself and his family healthful food. And then passing it on to his kids. And so on.

This Saturday, August 27th (in conjunction with Chez Panisse's 40th birthday), you can support edible education by Eating for Education. Eat out at one of the participating restaurants and a portion of the proceeds will be donated to The Edible Schoolyard Project and other school garden programs around the country. Or host your own dinner and gather up some donations.

Or just let this community inspire you. Bring a child into your garden. Pick some mint together. Let him crack an egg. Let her snip some chives. Whisk with his hand on top of yours. Start small.

And if you need an extra push, here are a few things I've learned after cooking with my kids almost every day for two years. And some tips on getting (and keeping) your kids' butts in the kitchen.

THERE'S NO NEED TO REINFORCE KIDS' FOOD DISLIKES BY SAYING THEM OUT LOUD.  LET THEM EXPRESS THEIR AVERSIONS. AND THEN JUST SMILE AND NOD.
This month, Dash wouldn't eat corn because "it's so disgusting."

But he really wanted to eat this.

"Mama, we're going to eat the frog's legs AND tongue. But mama, how do we NOT eat their germs?"

I would have asked the same thing. Look at that slimy tongue covered with germs. This little dude had spent the night at the bottom of my grandmother's pool. 

EVEN IF THEY WON'T EAT IT, THEY STILL MIGHT WANT TO TOUCH IT.
Bella hates the smell, the look, and the taste of oysters. But she was fiercely committed to learning how to open them. She quietly left the room when Dash started using his front teeth to beaver-scrape the gooey bodily remains out of each shell.

LET THEM PLAY.

Dash's shucking technique was far inferior to Bella's. He didn't protect his hand. He had the wrong angle. But I let him try. The last time he and I ate oysters together, he was not solo-wielding the shucker.

IF THEY MAKE IT, THEY JUST MIGHT EAT IT.

Warm cabbage and potato salad with anchovy vinaigrette?

"Yes, please," said Bella.

LOVE...

1. Brown Sugar Ice Cream with Butterscotch Chips. The cooled custard tastes like chocolate chip cookie dough (minus the chocolate chips).

2. Jeni Britton Bauer's ice cream book.  She will teach you what I can't. All kinds of tricks about preventing iciness (corn starch) and enhancing creaminess (cream cheese).

3. Poetry about onions.

4. Learning how to balance.

5. Eating savory galettes. This one with asparagus, potatoes, and cherry tomatoes was hella coveted. I do like the messy look. 

6. Patti Smith's Just Kids. Magical. Hearbreaking.

7. Photographing a bleeding Apricot, Blueberry and Almond Galette.

8. J.J. Sullivan's New York Times Magazine article about pot, Walt Disney World, and parenting. Hilarious. And here's some more of his (Pushcart Prize-winning) writing in case you like it as much as I do.

9. Oven-Dried Tomato Jam + Kefir Labneh cheese = one kick ass tart. (I'm still working on the recipe for the Peach and Almond Tart on the right. It was pretty but boring.)

10. Anthony Bourdain's episode of No Reservations all about Ferran Adrià and El Bulli's final week. Oh, the cocktails alone. Chef Adrià giggles and charms his way through a discussion with Bourdain about the connection between food and emotion. And despite the through-the-roof intensity of his molecular gastronomy, he still manages to stay connected to Spanish comfort food.

11. Ernie and Bert cheese cutters from CB2. Functional and beautiful. Medieval weapons or tart cutters? You choose.

12. Jeff Gordinier's X Saves the World. Couldn't put it down. It's beyond me how he masterfully weaves together athazagoraphobia, Molly Ringwald, YouTube, The Yuppie Handbook, Lauryn Hill's meltdown, Henry James, Nirvana, and Matthew Zapruder. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. And in the final few pages he busts out a conclusive mantra about being brave enough not to suck that made me cheer out loud and laugh (and maybe cry just a little).

13. Blogging. Two years since my first post.

14. My village. It takes one and I've got one.

A PIE FOR MIKEY

"This shit is da bomb."

Very 1997 of my husband to say. But it was still music to my ears. 

You see, I wanted him to love what he was eating. I had made it to honor Jennie Perillo. Jennie is a food blogger whose husband Mikey died of a heart attack last Sunday night. 

"I'm waiting to wake up and learn to live a new kind of normal. For those asking what they can do to help my healing process, make a peanut butter pie this Friday and share it with someone you love."

My husband was tasting my Crunchy Peanut Butter Ice cream with Brown Butter Graham Crackers Crumbs. I know. It's not a pie. But this summer, I've been expressing my love with ice cream.

This beautiful storm of food blogger love just might blow your mind.

An explosion on twitter.

Hundreds of photos have poured in.

To Tastespotting.

Foodgawker.

Food Network.

Food52.

And Facebook.

You are so psyched if you love Peanut Butter Pie like Mikey did. I'm not sure there have ever been this many variations of one recipe in the history of food blogging. Or maybe in the history of time (except for Caesar salad and chocolate chip cookies).

I kept it together until I started combining the eggs and sugar. Something about the repetitive circular motion of whisking sent me straight into tears. I understood what I still had. And I felt what Jennie had lost.

So here's to Jennie, Mikey, and their two girls for inspiring such a tremendous gathering. There are no words for Jennie's loss. But there is a strength to social media that is beyond our wildest dreams. Let this inspire us to do even more.

 

CRUNCHY PEANUT BUTTER ICE CREAM WITH BROWN BUTTER GRAHAM CRACKER CRUMBS

printable recipe
Inspired by Jennie Perillo's Creamy Peanut Butter Pie.
You can dip the top of the cone in melted dark chocolate for some extra excitement.

ingredients:
1/2 stick salted butter
6 graham crackers

1/2 cup crunchy peanut butter

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 1/2 cups half and half

6 egg yolks

1/3 cup white sugar

1/3 cup brown sugar

pinch of salt

1 1/2 cups heavy cream

directions:

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Melt butter. Once it has melted, continuing cooking it until it smells nutty and the milk solids have turned light brown. Take off the heat and cool.

Bash graham crackers in a zip loc bag until they're almost a fine powder (a few bigger chunks are ok). In an ovenproof dish, mix together brown butter and pulverized graham crackers. Spread out in a thin layer and toast for about 10 minutes until it's one shade darker. Keep an eye on it the whole time. Cool.

Whip in a standing mixer (or by hand) the peanut butter and vanilla until softened. Set aside.

Whisk together half and half, yolks, sugars, and salt. Set aside.

Prepare an ice water bath. Place a fine strainer over a medium-sized bowl. Immerse bottom of bowl in a larger bowl filled with ice and water. Set aside.

Heat heavy cream in a medium-sized saucepan. Turn off heat as it starts to boil. Take off heat and slowly whisk into half and half/egg mixture. 

Pour back into the pot and cook on low heat. Stir with a wooden spoon until it thickens slightly. It's done when you drag your finger across the back of the wooden spoon and it leaves a trail.

Pour mixture through the strainer into the bowl that's over the ice bath. Whisk in softened peanut butter/vanilla mixture. Leave bowl in the ice bath until the custard is cool. Stir every 10 minutes or so. Place saran wrap on top surface of custard to prevent a skin from forming. Refrigerate custard for several hours. Churn in ice cream machine according to manufacturer's directions. Freeze for a few hours before serving. Top with brown butter graham cracker crumbs.

DIFFERENCES

My husband calls me his crazy warrior. I can power through home water birth, Eka Pada Koundinyasana, and refrigerator management. When I'm angry, I throw things (clogs, hardcover novels) with great speed and skill (at the wall, not at him). And I don't give up, slow down, or shut up until an argument is resolved.

But my combat skills are mysteriously absent when it comes to plucking blackberries. I hold my breath when I gather them—even when they are at their sweetest, plumpest, optimum fall-into-my-hands state. I get agitated, my hands start to itch, I feel weak. I can't place them in the jar fast enough. And then I bail and get my husband. He will pick blackberries for over an hour without a single complaint.

So here's a recipe for my husband of 10 years (this week). My beautiful blackberry picker. He's no fridge ninja. But he's mine.

BLACKBERRY SAUCE
printable recipe

2 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon water

3 cups blackberries
pinch of salt

1 tablespoon lemon juice

Place sugar and water in a medium-sized saucepan. Cook over medium heat. Swirl it around by the pot handle to keep it cooking evenly. When it starts to smoke and turn light brown, toss in the blackberries. Careful. It might spatter a bit. Stir until blackberries have released their juices (2-3 minutes). Take off the heat and stir in the salt and lemon juice. Let cool for 10 minutes. Serve over ice cream. Or cool completely and drizzle over yoghurt. It keeps in the fridge for a week. It will keep for a few months in the freezer.

EXPANSION

San Francisco. The Mission. Saison Restaurant. I had a meal that stretched my mind (pig butter), my belly (14 courses), and my tolerance (6 wines).

The early evening was a blur of Vouvray Brut, caviar, awe, cucumber foam, oysters, radishes, lemon verbena, WTFs, nasturtium honey, and Chablis.

This decadence was followed by a brief walk around the courtyard as I chatted with the babysitter about Bella's earache.

Back to the table to suck the brains out of a wild spot prawn.

Some Riesling, assorted brassicas, oh yeses, foie gras, rabbit, a brief argument with my husband, and lots of Côtes Du Rhône.

Another phone call. And a plaintive voice asking, "WHEN are you coming home? WHAT are you doing? My ear hurts SO MUCH." Tears.

"Bella, we're out of here in 20 minutes. I promise."

Whoops.

Triple-tiered lemon mousse, glee, rice milk ice cream, questions, milk chocolate mousse, port, port, and port.

I thought we were finally done. And then out came the popcorn ice cream.

OMFG. Popcorn ice cream.

I  got up at 6am the next morning to try to recreate this luscious confection that hit my tongue tasting like a handful of lightly salted and buttered popcorn and slid down my throat as a cold pillow of aerated cream, eggs, and sugar. 

The only info I got from the pastry chef (via our server) was that he infused the cream with popcorn. So that's where I started.

I added 2 cups of popped popcorn to the hot cream and it melted away like biodegradable packing peanuts. I added another cup. Gone. And another. I passed the thick popcorn cream through a medium strainer, allowing miniscule slivers of popcorn to slip through and add a bit of crunch.

When Bella finally rolled out of bed later that morning, she berated me for staying out so late. And then she checked out what was cooling in the ice bath.

"Bella. I made the coolest thing. Popcorn ice cream base. I'm so excited."

 "Popcorn ice cream. Huh. Cool. Okay. Great." She is not a good actress but she is always supportive.

"Mama. It needs something. Like a topping."

"Corn?"

"Caramel corn."

Hell yeah.

Don't laugh. Here's my recipe for Caramel Corn.

1/2 cup caramel sauce

3 cups freshly popped popcorn*

Drizzle warm caramel sauce over popcorn. Mix until popcorn is coated.

*Did you know that you can make popcorn in the microwave. And, no, I'm not talking about those prepackaged bags. Instead, take a brown paper lunch bag, add 1/4 cup kernels, and seal the top by folding it over a few times. Full power for 2-3 minutes. Done. RE-VE-LA-TION. I'm keeping my microwave.

If you want something a bit more refined check out yummysupper's beautiful Brown Sugar Caramel Corn.

POPCORN  ICE CREAM
inspired by Saison restaurant

printable recipe

ingredients:

1 1/2 cups half and half

6 egg yolks

scant 2/3 cup sugar

pinch of salt

2 cups heavy cream

1/4 cup popcorn kernels (4 cups popped popcorn), popped in a paper bag in the microwave (2-3 minutes on full power) OR in an air popper (don't add salt or oil)

directions:

Whisk together half and half, yolks, sugar, and salt. Set aside.

Prepare a water bath. Place medium strainer (not too fine) over a medium-sized bowl. Immerse bottom of bowl in a larger bowl filled with ice and water. Set aside.

Heat heavy cream in a medium-sized saucepan. Turn off heat as it starts to boil. Whisk in popcorn one cup at a time until it's mostly dissolved. Strain through a medium strainer. Rinse and dry pot and reheat infused cream until just under the boil. Take off heat and slowly whisk into half and half/egg mixture. 

Pour back into the pot and cook on low heat. Stir with a wooden spoon until it thickens slightly. It's done when you drag your finger across the back of the wooden spoon and it leaves a trail.

Pour mixture through the strainer into the bowl that's over the ice bath. Leave bowl in the ice bath until the custard is cool. Stir every 10 minutes or so. Place saran wrap on top surface of custard to prevent a skin from forming. Refrigerate custard for several hours. Freeze ice cream according to manufacturer's directions. Freeze for a few hours before serving. Serve with caramel corn?