Monthly Archives: September 2013

Third Born

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I’m a middle child. There are four of us in our family –three sisters and, finally, to our dad’s great relief, a son. I am second born.

There are numerous studies that indicate that birth order impacts each child uniquely. First-born children, for example, are ambitious and feel responsible for solving all of the problems in the family (maybe even the world?). Second-borns want to please everyone. Third-borns, well, they just fight for what they get, and mostly they get what’s left.

Our middle son has four kids, ages 10, 8, 7, and 5 – girl, boy, girl, girl. Because of the sheer number of kids, and because our son and daughter-in-law are determined that their children appreciate all that they have, there are lots of hand-me-downs. It’s just inevitable, especially with all those girls. This photo, by the way, is missing the youngest who was likely in the warming hut with Mom.

Recently the kids tried on their ski clothing and equipment to see what fit, what didn’t, and what needed to be bought. As it turns out, the littlest one hadn’t grown a bit (she’s a wee bit of a thing), but the others were all in need of at least some sort of new clothing and/or equipment. But, unfortunately for the third-born, her brother’s old clothes and equipment fit her perfectly. Her mom told me that little Miss Third-Born wept real tears when she learned that she was going to have to wear her brother’s old clothes and equipment on the slopes this winter. Boy’s clothes. With her brother and older sister sporting shiny new duds. Argh. The unfairness of being a third-born.

Of course, when Mom told Nana, I wanted to weep real tears as well. Instead, I headed to the sporting goods store to buy Dagny some bright pink ski mittens. A girl has to have some pride.

Now I know absolutely nothing about ski duds, not being a skier myself. I was studying my choices when a nice young man came over and asked if I needed help. I proceeded to begin to tell him the story of these four grandkids and their ski clothes and how my poor little 7-year-old was getting the short end of the stick because she was going to have to wear her brother’s clothes and yada, yada, yada. I suspect I went into a bit too much detail because, though I have heard the phrase used before, this time I literally saw this young man’s eyes glaze over. He couldn’t possibly have cared less that my granddaughter had to wear her brother’s clothes, except for the fact that it might mean he could sell me a new pair of ski mittens. It made me laugh at myself.

Dagny got her pink mittens, and some socks to boot.

Today’s fall dinner offering:

Coq Au Vin

Ingredients
4 slices of bacon
1 whole chicken, cut into pieces
Salt and pepper to taste
1 medium onion, diced
1 carrot, diced
5 cloves garlic, minced
2 T. butter
1 lb. mushrooms, sliced
2 c. red wine

Process
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Fry the bacon in a large skillet until crisp. Remove from the pan, crumble it, and let it drain.

Season the chicken with salt and pepper, then place the chicken pieces fat side down into the skillet and cook in the bacon grease until brown. Turn over and cook the other side. Remove from pan and set aside in a baking dish, skin side up.

Sauté the onion, carrots and garlic in the skillet with the bacon grease until onions are translucent and garlic is fragrant, about 3 minutes. Remove from pan and add to the baking dish with the chicken. Add 2 T. butter to the skillet and cook the mushrooms until golden. Add to the baking dish with the chicken and the onion/carrot/garlic mix.

Drain grease from the skillet, then place over medium heat. Pour in 2 c. of red wine, using a wire whisk to loosen all the goodies from the bottom of the pan. Salt the liquid and cook for three minutes to allow wine to decrease. Pour the wine over the chicken and vegetables in the baking pan. Cover and bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes to 1 hour and 30 minutes.

Serve over buttered noodles or mashed potatoes.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

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So that you know that braising roasts until the meat falls off the bone isn’t the only thing I like about the fall months, I want you to know that I also look forward to autumn because of the World Series.

I am not a baseball fan. Baseball, like gardening, is one of those things that I want to like, but simply don’t. My sister loves baseball. She enjoys spending a day at the ballpark. She understands why the catcher is making funny hand signals and what they might mean. She knows what the bullpen is. I, on the other hand, have trouble sitting for three hours watching a sporting event that isn’t football.

My dad, who is now deceased, also loved baseball. Well, to be honest, he loved any sporting event that involved a ball. But especially in his later life, he loved his Colorado Rockies. And he loved to talk baseball with anyone who would listen. He would try with me, but I just didn’t know or care what a ground rule double was. So he would talk baseball with my sister, who does know what a ground rule double is. He always did like her best.

But even not being a baseball fan, I recognize that there is something special about the World Series. It’s the culmination of an entire summer of seemingly endless baseball. It has all that history and legend and controversy. I remember even in Catholic grade school in Nebraska in the 60s that the nuns let the boys listen to the World Series on their transistor radios during class because, well, it was the World Series.

One of the best things my sibs and I ever did was pool our money and buy Dad tickets to a World Series game back in 2007 when the Rockies played the Boston Red Sox. Dad was already unable to get around much without a wheel chair, but my stepmother accompanied him to the game. One of my sisters and I dropped them off at the ballpark. We parked the car illegally, and hustled them to the gate. We watched as my stepmother gamely pushed my dad through the purple throng, and we both agreed we felt much the same as we had when we watched our kids go off to kindergarten. Gulp. Later, my stepmother said that despite the crowd of excited fans, as they made their way towards the elevator, the “crowds parted like the Red Sea.” The fans were so kind, as only baseball fans can be.

The Rockies lost that game, and lost that series, but my dad never forgot that he got to attend a World Series game.

And in memory of my beef-loving dad, here is my fall recipe of the day:

Ree Drummond’s Perfect Pot Roast

Ingredients
Salt and pepper
One 3- to 5-lb. chuck roast
3 T olive oil
2 whole onions, peeled and halved
6 to 8 carrots, cut into 2-in pieces
1 c. red wine (optional)
3 c. beef broth
2 or 3 sprigs fresh rosemary
2 or 3 sprigs fresh thyme

Process
Preheat the oven to 275 degrees.
Generously salt and pepper the chuck roast.

Heat the olive oil in large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the onions to the pot, browning them on both sides. Remove the onions to a plate. Throw the carrots into the same very hot pot and toss them around a bit until slightly browned, about a minute or so. Reserve the carrots with the onions.

If needed, add a bit more olive oil to the very hot pot. Place the meat in the pot and sear it for about a minute on all sides until it is nice and brown all over. Remove the roast to a plate.

With the burner still on high, use either red wine or beef broth (about 1 c) to deglaze the pot, scraping the bottom with a whisk. Place the roast back into the pot and add enough beef stock to cover the meat halfway. Add in the onions and the carrots, along with the fresh herbs.

Put the lid on, then roast for 3 hours for a 3-lb. roast. For a 4- to 5-lb roast, plan on 4 hours. The roast is ready when it’s fall-apart tender.

Falling for the Weather

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The past few days of weird, rainy Colorado weather have been devastating to some. As I mentioned, my family has been spared, and for that I’m grateful.

One thing the rainy weather brought with it was a cool down, something I think many of us anticipated with eagerness. We have had a very hot and dry summer. And it seems like late August and early September were particularly hot.

I am not a fan of cold weather. I am sad every year when I have to turn on the lights a bit earlier and my pretty summer flowers start to dry up and the tomato plants begin to crumble. Even when our kids were younger, I really didn’t look forward to school starting as did many of my friends.

I suppose if I had made it a point to participate in some winter sports I might feel different. I really did give skiing a try, but it just never worked for me. Despite taking a lesson, I never got good at it. I was always just thiiiiis shy of being a danger on the slopes and careening madly down the hill. And this was on the bunny slope. It’s not a good idea to careen on the bunny slope. There are all those 3-year-olds happily skiing down the hill, their skis in a perfect pizza shape. I have always meant to try cross country skiing, but since I’m nearing 60, I’m not sure it’s necessarily going to happen. And I just don’t like being out in the cold weather.

My dislike for cold, wintry weather (a dislike that is shared by my husband) is the reason we bought a house in Arizona a couple of years ago. Somewhere just after Christmas, we head south and spend the remainder of the winter into May in the desert. That makes me very happy.

Having said all this, however, I am ready for the weather to cool down a bit and the rain to stop. While I don’t like winter weather, I do like winter cooking. Nothing tastes better to me than a tough piece of meat cooked slowly to tenderness in a Dutch oven with a lovely gravy to put over noodles or potatoes. And don’t even get me started on chili. Yum.

I laughed the other day when my sister, who lives in Arizona, texted me to tell me that they were eating chili because the weather had turned cool. It was 86 degrees.

This week I’m going to feature some fall recipes, starting with Apple Crisp.

Apple Crisp

Ingredients
10 c. apples (I used 4 Granny Smith and 4 Honeycrisp)
1 c. sugar
1 T. flour
1 t. cinnamon
½ c. water
1 c. quick-cooking oats (I only had regular oatmeal, and it worked fine)
1 c. flour
1 c. packed brown sugar
¼ t. baking powder
¼ t. baking soda
½ c. butter, melted

Process
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Place the sliced apple in a 9X13 inch pan. Mix the white sugar, 1 T. flour and cinnamon together, and sprinkle over apples. Pour water over all.

Combine the oats, 1 c. flour, brown sugar baking powder, baking soda, and melted butter together. Crumble evenly over the apple mixture. Bake at 350 for about 45 minutes.

By the way, if you use a lot of peeled apples in your cooking, I recommend you purchase an apple peeler from your local hardware store. Old school, but so effective.

Flooded With Blessings

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In the biblical story of Noah, God promises his obedient servant that he will never again destroy the world with a flood. He didn’t, however, say a word about northern Colorado.

If you live in Colorado, or have been watching the news, you know that we have been having torrential, historical rainfall. Like many weather phenomenon in this crazy state (probably because of the mountains, though I am not, of course, a meteorologist), the rain is hit and miss. So, I can leave my house where it is lightly raining, drive through a crazy downpour about a mile-and-a-half south of here, and arrive at my son’s house (about four miles away) to light rain. Because of this, it is hard to know who has been impacted by what the news people are calling the 100-Year Flood, and who hasn’t.

Well, once again, God has blessed us. Though a sister, a nephew, and my stepmother live in northern Colorado, none has (at least to date) had any problems with floodwaters. In fact, all of our family members who live in Colorado have remained high and dry. That’s pretty remarkable considering all the people who live literally 15 minutes north of here who are pumping out their basements or are confined to their homes because their streets are impassable.

I never understand why some people are burdened and some people are spared when there is a crisis. We certainly don’t deserve this blessing more than many others. Still, I will never look a gift horse in the mouth and am not forgetting to give thanks, as St. Paul suggested to the Philippians.

Kids’ Whimsical Cooking

Posted in Kids' Cooking, Main Course, Recipes by

My mother didn’t teach me to cook.

Don’t get me wrong. My mom was a very good cook. She just didn’t teach me to cook, or my siblings either. She probably thought it was simply easier to do it herself. She prepared the meals; we did other things. As a result, I was a terrible cook when I first got married. Rice that could have doubled for wallpaper paste. A pie crust that was so hard to roll out that I ended up throwing it on the floor. You get the picture.

As the years went by, I must have learned through simply watching Mom how to do some cooking. I got better as time went on. Now I hardly ever throw a pie crust on the floor.

My 10-year-old granddaughter Addie likes to cook. She has liked to cook since she was a really small girl. She has a patient mommy who has allowed her to cook, and who has taught her a thing or two about cooking!

As I continue with this blog, I thought it would be fun to give Addie the chance to blog on occasion as well. She can talk about cooking from a 10-year-old’s perspective. As part of the process, Addie cooked dinner last night, and man! it was delicious.

Here is her first post:

Hi my name is Adelaide Grace McLain (I go by Addie for short). I am 10 years old and I will be doing blog posts about kids cooking on this blog. I have a passion for cooking and that is why my nana (the one who owns this blog) asked me to share my recipes. I have 3 siblings and so my family is a total of six. My favorite color is yellow and my favorite food is mango. I would have to say that my best dish is fettuccini alfredo which is coincidentally my first blog recipe.

I started cooking when I was about 6 years old. My mom was cooking fettuccini alfredo and I said, “Can you teach me how to cook?” After that, I started making breakfast for my siblings many mornings and coffee for my parents that I would bring up to them in bed.

I hope you like my blog posts.

Fettuccini Alfredo

Ingredients
1 stick of butter
¾ of a pint of cream
Enough Parmesan cheese to make the sauce thick.

Process
Melt the butter in a sauce pan. Add the cream to the butter, stirring the whole time. Add the Parmesan cheese until the sauce is thick (probably around ¾ – 1 c. of cheese). This is what it should look like:

Cook your pasta, and pour the sauce on top.

Smooth Sailing

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Today it is like the heavens broke loose and the rain just keeps on coming. I love rainy days; just wouldn’t want them every day. But a steady rainfall following weeks of dry, hot weather feels just right.

So this morning as I thought about what to make for breakfast on this chilly morning, what do you think came to my mind? A steamy hot bowl of oatmeal with brown sugar, blueberries and cream? Bacon and eggs, with home fried potatoes? A pan of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls?

Nope. This morning I made smoothies.

Smoothies don’t exactly equate with chilly, rainy days. Still, I had all of this fruit that was going to go to waste if I didn’t use it soon. And yogurt that was coming alarmingly close to its pull date (buying Greek yogurt by the case from Costco seems like such a good idea at the time).

Smoothies are easy, healthy, and taste like a treat. So smoothies it was.

I simply fill my blender with frozen berries, a couple of nectarines, a banana, some peach-mango juice, and two containers of Greek yogurt. Some people add spinach. My husband would not in a million years, ever, ever drink a green smoothie. So there. No spinach.

(I did, however, add a few tablespoons of Benefiber, something 20- or 30-somethings would not have to do. That’s all I’ll say about that.)

Pour my decidedly PINK fruit smoothie into a pretty glass and call it breakfast. Should I have chilled soup for lunch?

Stalking Henny Penny

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I speak for many when I say I love the grocery store rotisserie chicken. Any evening when I don’t have a plan for dinner, or when I have a plan but the plan doesn’t sound good to me, it’s off to Whole Foods for a delicious roasted chicken.

We like it just as it is, served with a vegetable and maybe some biscuits. And since, seeings as there are only two of us, we can only eat half, there is always the other half to use as a second meal.

I went to Whole Foods the other evening expressly to get a roasted chicken for dinner. My plan was to eat half that night and to make chicken enchiladas the next night. When I got there at about 4:45, however, there were only four measly chickens on the platform. I glanced up at the rotisserie oven and saw that the birds looked brown and yummy and ready to package up and put out. Ah ha, I thought. I bet they put out fresh chickens at 5. I’ll wait for a hot roasted chicken.

So I wandered around the store. I looked at the cheeses. I stopped at the olive bar and filled up a container with olives and pickles. I checked out all of the great looking sausages. I went back to the roasted chicken rack. There were only three chickens sitting there. It was 5:03.

That’s okay, I thought. I’ll wait a bit longer. I went to the produce aisle and filled my basket with the makings for my salsa verde that I would use with my chicken enchiladas the next night. It was 5:10. I went back to the chicken rack. There was one lonely chicken, and it proudly boasted that it was unsalted. Unsalted? I glanced at the people behind the counter and no one appeared to be getting chickens ready to put out. Rats.

So I went back to the meat area and asked the butcher to cut one of the big rib eye steaks in half the long way. We would go to Plan B and have panfried steak. On my way to the checkout I walked by the chicken rack. That poor unsalted, unloved chicken was still sitting there all by himself.

The store was busy and the line was long. I was second in line when I glanced back at the deli area and saw that a young man was putting roasted chickens in containers. Yippee! I left my place in line without a backward glance and asked the young man if I could have one of the chickens he was preparing. Of course, he said.

I went home with a hot, delicious chicken for dinner, though the process took longer than I thought it would. And the next night, just as I planned we had chicken enchiladas. Double duty.

Stacked Green Chili Chicken Enchiladas

Ingredients
12 tomatillos, husked and rinsed
2 jalapenos, stemmed
1 onion, quartered
Splash white vinegar
Water
1 t. ground cumin
½ bunch fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped
2 limes
Salt
1 pint green chili (homemade or store-bought)
1 deli roasted chicken
½ bunch fresh cilantro, chopped
Salt and pepper to taste
12 corn tortillas
Cheese

Process
Make the salsa verde: Put the tomatillos, jalapenos, and onion in a saucepan with the vinegar and water to cover. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and poach for 10 minutes. Drain. Put the vegetables in a blender, add the cumin, and puree. Add the cilantro, lime juice, and salt. Pulse to combine.

Bring the green chili to a simmer. Fold in the chicken, cilantro, salt and pepper.

Preheat oven to 350.

To assemble, place some salsa verde on the bottom of a 9 X 13 pan, and cover with corn tortillas. Layer the green chili/chicken mixture, the salsa verde, and the cheese two or three times. Bake uncovered for 30 minutes. Let sit a few minutes before cutting into the dish.

Old School

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My husband and I like to watch the Food Network television show Restaurant Impossible. In this show, Chef Robert Irvine goes into a failing restaurant and in two days and with $10,000, transforms it into a new, improved eatery with a hip interior and a slick, cool new menu. We are then to assume that the restaurant goes on to be successful, though we never know that for sure.

The thing that amuses both Bill and me is that at the end, all of the restaurants look basically the same, and the menus are pretty much interchangeable. Oh, there might be a few differences if the themes are different – Italian, Greek, hamburger joint, etc. But in the end, most of the restaurants are very much the same. We recently had the occasion to dine at Irvine’s Nosh restaurant on Hilton Head Island, and yes, you guessed it, it looks just like the restaurants on the program. Funny.

I thought about this recently when Bill and I went for pizza at one of our favorite Denver-area dining spots, Bonnie Brae Tavern. Bonnie Brae has been in business for 75 years, and I have been eating pizza there for almost 35 years. In that time, the menu hasn’t really changed much and the pizzas are just as delicious now as they were the first time I ate there. Yummy crust and fresh, delicious ingredients, but nothing fancy. No fancy white sauces, no clams, not an arugula leaf to be found.

Likewise, the décor is about the same as it has been for at least the 35 years I have been eating there. I’m sure the turquoise leather has been replaced a time or two, but it nevertheless, remains turquoise leather. The wall is lined with beer neon signs with the cords exposed as they snake over to the plugs. It feels like home. (Not that I have beer neon signs in my kitchen, but you know what I mean.)

I contrasted this to another restaurant where I ate today with a niece who is visiting from LA. Sassafras American Grill is in the beautifully gentrified Highlands area of Denver, and the restaurant is located in a lovingly and beautifully remodeled old Victorian home. While not the fresh, contemporary look typical of, say, Robert Irvine’s restaurants, it still is beautifully hip (and quite delicious, I might add). The Cajun-flavored offerings are absolutely yummy.

Still, Bill and I are definitely old-school. As such, I feel very much at home sitting on the turquoise leather seating that makes Bonnie Brae a favorite. Oh, that and the crunchy crusts on the scrumptious pizzas!

Speaking of pizza, here is how I make a grilled pizza that tastes almost like the pizzas we got in Italy.

Preheat your grill while you prepare your ingredients. Divide pie crust into individual portions and roll it out as thin as you can. I generally buy my crusts at Whole Foods, but you can certainly make your own.

While your grill is getting hot, warm some olive oil in a pan, and throw in a crushed garlic clove. Let the oils from the garlic flavor the olive oil, and then brush the olive oil on both sides of your individual crusts.

Put your ingredients in bowls and take them with you out to the grill, along with the crusts. I recommend very simple ingredients. Maybe you will want to brush a little tomato sauce on the crust after it has cooked on one side. Perhaps you will put on a little cheese. You can add some garlic or maybe a little prosciutto or few slices of pepperoni.

Once your grill is preheated, carefully place the crusts (on which you have brushed some garlic-infused oil) directly onto the grill rack. One web site recommends that you put your crust on a piece of aluminum foil that you have floured and slide it from the foil onto the grill. I have generally just used my hands. However you do it, this is probably the trickiest part. But you can do it!

At this point, don’t walk away from the grill. Keep your eyes open as you watch the crust begin to bubble. It really only takes a minute or so. Once the bottom of the crust has gotten a little charred, turn the crust over using tongs. Brush more oil onto the crust, and quickly put on your ingredients. Close the lid and let the pizzas cook and the cheese melt (if you used cheese) for a few more minutes – probably no more than five. Keep your eye on the pie. Delicious.

Saturday Blessing

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It’s unseasonably warm in Denver. Instead of normal temperatures of high 70s, we are wrestling with almost 100 degrees. Warm temperatures don’t stop the soccer season, however.

And for me, despite the weather, I was blessed. It isn’t every day that I am able to spend much of the day with two-thirds of my grandchildren! Even if at any given time, one of them was on a soccer field.

Three of them (siblings, ages 5, 7, and 8) had a game today at two different fields. Their older sister, age 10, helped me as I watched our other son’s two girls, ages 3 and 5. The temperature hovered around 95. It was hot. The kids tried to stay cool in a pop-up tent. I tried desperately to find someone with an umbrella to provide me with a bit of shade.

The kids are grand friends as well as cousins. It is fun and such a blessing for me to watch them all play together. In this day and age, where families are generally so far apart, it is a joy to have six of my grandchildren within a 15 minute drive of my house (and four of those six are merely a 5 minute walk away). We miss the others who live far away, but never forget them.

By the way, two out of three games ended in a victory for the good guys.