Category Archives: Food

Fear Leads To Anger, Anger Leads To Suffering

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I had a fairly eventful weekend, social-wise.  On Friday I had dinner guests, and I made a roasted vegetable lasagne – look for the recipe over at the cooking blog in the next couple of days – and it was absolutely delicious.  I was raving to a friend over the pure delight that is roasted zucchini, and it is so delicious, and had she ever tried it, and her response was “Of course!  I’m Italian.”  Aha!  The lightbulb goes off.  I am just going to say this: the popularity of cookbooks based on Scottish and/or Norweigan cuisine is very low.  In fact, I’m not sure there ARE cookbooks based on those cuisines, with the possible exception of the Lutheran Ladies’ Family Favourites, which I have in my possession. 

Then, on Saturday, I attended a baby shower.  I haven’t been to one of those in YEARS.  It has also been years since I was the lone stay-at-home mom in a room.  Represent!  It made me realize that the overwhelming majority of my friends are also stay-at-home moms, and the overwhelming majority of them have at least one child older than mine.  But in this situation, I was the seasoned mom in the room, with my cares of feeding/diapering/sleeping/swaddling far, far behind me.  I felt wise, like Yoda.

Have I mentioned my children are very interested in Star Wars right now?  They are watching the movies in order from 1-6, and they have finished Attack of the Clones.  A few things occurred to me while they watched it: a) they have a way better idea of what is actually going on in those movies, while I’m like “Who’s that guy?  Is he bad?  Oh, he’s GOING to be bad?  Oh.  Who’s that guy?”, and b) they were actually not at all upset when Anakin’s mother was killed.  WHAT?  Mark, especially, surprised me since he was quite distraught when Anakin left his mother in The Phantom Menace, and also almost every movie upsets him if there is some kind of sadness or unkindness displayed, i.e., Ice Age, Shrek, Cars 2, Lion King.  But Anakin’s mother being brutally murdered?  He’s okay with that.  HEY NOW.

There has also been much talk about fear leading to anger which leads to suffering.  Good times over at the Boyhouse!  Not to be all check out all the wisdom in Star Wars, but honestly, that is kind of true.  Fear DOES lead to anger; often I notice the angriest people are the ones who are the most resistant to and fearful of change, or new people, or the world in general.  They’re all out to get me. Yoda is wise – just like me, dispensing all my parenting knowledge at the baby shower. 

I kid.  I kid.  I dispensed no knowledge at the baby shower, except when asked specifically about a topic.  I didn’t want to be one of those moms, especially since I can’t really remember all that happened when my children were babies.  Hey, I had my kids really close together, I essentially am missing everything that happened between 2005 and 2007.  Hell, I didn’t really sleep through the night until 2010, due to various reasons, and given that my first child was born in 2004, that is a lot of sleepless nights. 

But who wants to talk about that, am I right?  I do not like to even mention my sleeplessness in a room full of non-mothers or soon-to-be-first-time mothers.  The voice of terror…I had a baby, and then I never slept again!  Not super helpful information, in my opinion. 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how women can get pretty judgy and condemning of other women, especially when it comes to children and parenting.  Honestly, I hate that, but I think that it’s much more ubiquitous among new, first-time mothers, possibly because everything is so new and scary that we tend to get angry about issues (see also: Yoda).  This is why we tend to get all worked up over breastfeeding and co-sleeping and cribs and crying and baby-wearing and toilet training and rice cereal versus pureed vegetables, and it’s because everything is new.  New to us, I should say, because the human race is pretty much doing fine in terms of procreating.  But parenting is scary, and newborns are, quite frankly, terrifying with their wobbly giant heads and their flailing skinny arms and that cry that pierces every mother’s soul.  I have found as I have gotten older and have found a circle of beautiful mothers who I am blessed to have as friends, things get so much less scary.  As we grow into motherhood we realize that each day we can start anew.  Each day we can change something if we don’t like it.  We can wipe the slate clean and do our best every day, and if we have a bad day, it is not the end of the world. 

I feel a bit sheepish that I am actually using Star Wars as parenting wisdom, especially since I STILL don’t really know who Count Dooku is, but it’s true.  Let’s try to be less fearful, and therefore less angry.  And tell me about your weekend!  Unless you are going to tell me it was beautiful and warm, because it snowed here, and that is enough to spiral me into anger.

Up The Irish

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Today, in addition to making three dozen cupcakes and a loaf of banana bread, I am going to try my hand at Irish Soda Bread, in the festive spirit of the day.  I am also making kale chips and roasted asparagus, which count as festively Irish because of the green colour.  I am in general not a fan of potato dishes, so green veggies and soda bread is about as far as I go in the St. Paddy’s department.  I don’t even wear green, which is due to the fact that my wardrobe is almost exclusively grey and black.  This brings me to another point: it’s all the rage these days to wear a certain colour on a certain day to show support for various causes (purple for gay rights, pink for anti-bullying, etc.) and I’m sorry to say I almost never partake.  It’s not that I don’t support those causes – I am all for gay rights and anti-bullying, of course – but I don’t actually have the appropriate clothes.  So here’s what I’m wearing on St. Paddy’s Day:

Festive Irish wear – complete with fluffy dog!  This is also week four of my “growing out my goddamn hair” and I’m feeling pleased with it.  It’s growing!  Hair grows!  Regretsy no more!
It has been a very, very shitty week in the Boyhouse, but I am TIRED of being a little black cloud of sadness.  Last night I drugged myself and slept ten hours, and today I am filled with optimism! and cheer! and so instead I am going to transform myself into my usual ray of sunshine and tell you all the happy things about this week, as well as a few things I find cheering. 
1. Mark’s birthday party is tomorrow and of the fourteen children invited, thirteen of them RSVP’d by the date specified on the invitation.  This is surely a new record.  I’m taking an extra goody bag just in case but hooray for people adhering to basic societal expectations!
2. The boys’ class put on a play about the history of Calgary, and Jake was genius – GENIUS, I SAY – as Inspector Brisbois, head of the Northwest Mounted Police and builder of Fort Calgary.  He even wore a handlebar moustache.  Perhaps he is a future Movember participant? 
3. Report cards came out yesterday, and much to my surprise, Mark is apparently gifted at thermometer reading.  Several sentences were devoted to Mark and his ability to accurately read a thermometer.  He is the go-to person when classmates have questions about temperatures. 
4. This makes me laugh every time I look at it:
Although the other explanation is “rich” and/or “titled”.
5. I found this picture of Barkley when we first got him:
CUTE!!!  Wook at his widdle face.
And…that’s it.  I have been in a bit of a funk, so I would love, love, love it if you told me some cheering/happy things going on in your life.  xo

Love Sandwich

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I was so excited to open up this month’s O Magazine, and not just because it contained Adam Glassman’s spring fashion look book – which turned out to be a disappointment, anyway.  Sorry, Adam, a silky pajama top is NOT work appropriate even when paired with a pencil skirt; and let’s not even get started on orange and/or yellow pants.  No, I was excited because it was the First! Ever! Food Issue! and on the cover – right on the folded over part – was….STEDMAN!  And inside was an interview with him talking about what Oprah cooks for him – including, but not limited to, something that is called a Love Sandwich.  The recipe was not at all what came to mind when I heard the words Love Sandwich, it wasn’t anything even remotely slutty or Kama Sutra-ish.  The Love Sandwich, anticlimatically enough, involves a panini press, basil, tomatoes and avocado, among other things.  It does not involve anything bedroom- or Gayle-related.  Actually, minus the turkey and scallions (shudder), it looks pretty yummy.  I wouldn’t mind a Love Sandwich.

I was so excited to see Stedman on the cover that I was vibrating a little; I leaned over on the couch to show my husband, who responded in a puzzled way.  Why, he wondered, did I look like that?  Baby, it’s not every day one gets to see a narwhal.

Sometimes it is like he doesn’t understand me at all.  For example, I discovered that this weekend – yes, THIS WEEKEND – is the start of Daylight Savings Time and, as usual, I started to go off the rails.  My husband responded in an irritated sort of way, saying that I was being a) overly dramatic, and b) irrational, which made me respond in a “No, YOU’RE overly dramatic and irrational” kind of way, complete with hanging up the phone. 

It’s true, as my husband pointed out, that my children did adjust fairly quickly to a three hour time difference in Maui and again at home, but it is also true that the week following the “Spring Forward” is a crabby one, given that children are unable to sleep at their regularly scheduled time and then must be woken up at their regularly scheduled time, contributing to a sleep deficit which leads to HELL.  ASK ANY TEACHER OR CHILD CARE PROFESSIONAL.  Even if my children do adjust to the time difference, I shall still rally against it, in solidarity with mothers everywhere.  It is antiquated, it is unnecessary, and the first person to say “but it’s so nice to have light in the evening” I shall stab.  Or, if I don’t physically stab them, I shall stab them in my mind and then give them the furry eyebrow.  Where I live, in a couple months it will be light until TEN O’CLOCK.  I think that is more than sufficient.  I wake up at 4:45 am, I do not care about light in the evenings, thank you very much.   

Now I’ve got myself all worked up again.  I need to go out and buy myself a panini press; I think a Love Sandwich may be the ticket to happiness.  There is pepper jack cheese!  And avocado!  Mmm.  Baby.  Love Sandwich.

The Anti-Clean Plate Club

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This morning the world is white and grey, snow falling and the colour of the sky perfectly matching that of the ground.  Jake has the sniffles, my husband had a cortisone shot in his shoulder on Friday and hence has been rendered the one-armed man (wasn’t there a show about that?), I am running the book fair this upcoming week, and, with all this cheerfulness surrounding me, I woke up with a decided sense of fatigue and ennui.  I decided to skip yoga this morning and cheered myself up by drinking coffee and eating granola on the couch, while watching the new Looney Tunes show with the boys.  Have you seen the new Looney Tunes?  It is VERY funny.  Today’s episode dealt with Bugs Bunny and his – apparent – caffeine addiction, which led to him becoming addicted to a Red Bull-type energy beverage and consuming a month’s worth in one day.  Hilarity then ensues with Bugs redecorating the house and cooking all the food and spending hours on the elliptical machine.  “He likes coffee just like you do, Mom!” Jake said happily, while I wrapped my hands around my mug.

Maybe it was the coffee, or maybe it was the energy from my new green smoothie loving, but I rallied to putter around the kitchen and bake a loaf of cinnamon bread, which somehow led to cleaning all surfaces in the house like a maniac.  I’m not sure how that happened, but at least the house looks good. 

My neighbour told me that she had found in her home a bunch of her grandma’s old recipes, including one for pineapple ham, which reminded me of a cookbook that is in my possession.  It is the Canadian Lutheran Ladies’ Family Favourites, which my mother gave me when I moved out.  I will preface this by saying that the Lutheran Ladies really know their way around muffin baking, and there are a number of tasty cookie, quick bread, and square recipes that I use frequently.  However.  There is also an entire section entitled “Meat and Macaroni Salads” which includes such dishes as Jellied Egg Salad (utilizing hard-boiled eggs, lemon jello, mayonnaise and cottage cheese), Jellied Chicken Salad (utilizing diced chicken, lemon jello, onion, and Lipton’s Chicken Noodle Soup mix), and a dish made entirely of cold Kraft dinner with celery and Catalina dressing.  Predictably, there are any number of jellied fruit salad recipes, including one that involves orange pop, orange jello, and canned pineapple.  It really reminds me of the church potlucks of my childhood.  

Fortunately for those of us who like to watch our girlish figures, there is a Low Calorie section, which contains no calorie counts but does contain a recipe entitled “Low Calorie Hot Dish” which is made with a head of cabbage, a pound of hamburger, onion, rice, and canned tomato soup.  There is also an “Ethnic” section, which is largely comprised of German, Norwegian, and Swedish dishes, with very sad recipes for tandoori chicken and empanadas rounding out the global feel.  The strangest recipe of all in the “Ethnic” section is one for PEI Clam Chowder.  Apparently living in an Atlantic province is exotic enough to be considered ethnic. 

It’s strange to consider how food trends have changed over the years.  When I was a child meals were of the meat-and-potatoes variety, tomatoes were canned, and I had never eaten a pepper, ever.  There was also a clean plate rule, which has given me memories of sitting at the table long after everyone else had left it, crying, a piece of fried liver, growing cold, on my plate.  That right there is the reason I give my children a bit of rhythm, as they say on NYPD Blue, about finishing their meals.  I don’t encourage waste, of course, but I feel it’s mean to force a child to eat everything on their plate.  I grew up to be a vegetarian; for all I know my kids are going to grow up to never want to see another quesadilla or a bowl of pasta ever again.

Give your mother a kiss or I’ll kick your teeth in.

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Happy Robbie Burns Day!  I was telling the boys about Robbie Burns Day today, explaining the celebratory nature – in a modified way – and about their Scottish ancestry.  Jake was getting more and more agitated and more and more defiant about it, when he burst out “We are not in Scotland, Mom!  We are in Canada.  WE ARE CANADIAN.”

Good point.  Also I have to admit the only thing I do on Robbie Burns Day is look up YouTube videos of Mike Myers in So I Married an Axe Murderer and walk around singing Bay City Rollers songs and Do You Think I’m Sexy in a Scottish accent.  I’m probably putting my ancestors to shame.  It’s not like I’m heading over to the Legion to eat haggis, get drunk on Scotch, and get into a brawl with someone from a different clan, like a good Scottish lassie. 

Haggis.  You have to hand it to the Scots, they have cornered the market on the world’s worst cuisine.  Scottish cuisine is the absolute bottom of the global barrel.  Second is probably Norweigan – and hey, I’m Scottish-Norweigan so I can really vouch for this.  Boiled potatoes!  Fish balls!  And I’m very sorry to offend all of you haggis and/or lutefisk fans, but what the hell?  Was everyone drunk and did those dishes really seem like a good idea at the time?  Someone very kindly mentioned to me recently that if I wanted, I could get vegetarian haggis, which honestly seems like the third-most-awful food item in the world. 

Do you ever wonder how kind of bizarre cultural things got their start?  Like, for example, bagpipes.  Actually, I can probably guess how bagpipe music got its start but it’s a grim picture so I won’t go there.  Do people honestly enjoy bagpipe music or is it one of those things that you intellectually think you should enjoy because of your ancestry, but emotionally and viscerally you loathe it?  Is it like the recorder – intellectually you realize that elementary aged children are taught the recorder because of its lightweight size and inexpensiveness, but the sound of it, my god, the sound of it.  There is nothing like being next door to a classroom full of recorder-playing fifth graders.  Did I mention that I’m starting to get ready for the next book fair, which is next door to the music room?  Alcoholic donations welcome.  Also?  Ear plugs.

Because of the melting streets and the filth on my windshield causing me to be actually unable to see out my windshield, which seems like a liability somehow, I washed the car today.  That is a MAN’S job, people.  Anyway, I manned up and took my filthy minivan to the carwash, and beside it an apartment complex is being erected (heh) and there was a giant, cavernous hole dug, filled with various heavy machinery.  It made me supremely nostalgic.  There was a time when I would walk my boys in their double stroller to construction sites, and they would sit there, fascinated, for HOURS on end.  Jake was one, and he would clap his little hands and say “Diggies!  Diggies!  Jake happy!  Happy!”  We spent our days that way, our endless unscheduled days, wandering around the neighbourhood looking at buses and machinery, and playing farm and blocks and trains, and now suddenly they are gone most of the day and when they are home they are involved in their own little lives that often do not involve me at all, and one day they are going to be bringing their recorders home to practice and suddenly I am wallowing in Robbie Burns Day melancholy.  Just like a good Scottish lassie.

Post-Christmas Cleaning Binge

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Did you have a good Christmas?  I’m relieved to tell you that Mark recovered enough to enjoy Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, although he was somewhat exhausted by yesterday evening – but then, shouldn’t we all be exhausted by then?  My mother mentioned yesterday that Mark is always sick at Christmas, which seemed incorrect to me, and indeed, upon checking my blog entries the last time anyone was sick at Christmas was 2008.  That seems like a fairly decent run to me.

But today we are all enjoying good health and also our Christmas gifts.  I caved this year on my “no video games” policy and the boys – all three of them – are currently playing Mario Kart Wii.  They are also threatening to get a fourth control so I can play with them, an attitude I am steadfastly discouraging.  So far they have yet to turn into slack jawed zombies, so I grudgingly admit the Wii is fine.  Also, I received a game, just for me, the Wii Jeopardy.  Now THAT is something I can get behind.

I also received this beauty:

A Pandora bracelet!  It’s perfect in every way.  I also received this pashmina scarf, which is so unbelievably soft I want to make out with it:

I haven’t yet.  But I want to.

Meanwhile, today I have broken all my normal rules and have not taken the Christmas tree down.  It’s not because I don’t want to.  I came home from yoga, faced with the clutter and boxes and general grunginess that indicates holiday living, and thought I could not face one more minute with the tree up.  The kids intervened passionately, and I have agreed to give it one more day.  I regret this decision immensely, and I find myself giving the tree what my children themselves refer to as the “furry eyebrow”.  Enjoy your time with us, tree.  You’re next.

If I couldn’t take down the tree, I certainly could deal with the holiday grunginess, which is exactly what I did.

That’s me, minus the blonde hair and kicky pink dress.  My children seemed a little alarmed at the zest with which I attacked the floors and bathroom.  My husband went out to run an errand and came back to find me scrubbing the floor tiles with vinegar water and a Sham-Wow, all the furniture moved around so as to clean behind it.  “Wow,” he said, backing away slowly.  “You’re really…cleaning.”  YES I AM.

Meanwhile, we have approximately one thousand chocolates in the house, which seems like a lot.  What’s better – freezing and savoring them over the next several months, or devouring them all just to destroy them?  Probably something in between, I suppose.  But given we still have Halloween candy in our house, something must be done.  Immediately.  Now pardon me while I go deal with a box of After Eights.

Don’t throw me down, Clark! Is your house on fire, Clark? Oh. That was fun. I love riding in cars.

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It is ONE WEEK until Christmas and the mood around here is a mix of mellow and excited.  Yesterday was our open house and – although the basement looked like a Lego bomb went off and also like twenty-five children dropped crackers on the carpet and then stepped on them vigourously, which is probably exactly what happened – now I’m kind of in a weird state of not having much to do.  One week before Christmas.  It’s nice, do not get me wrong, I heard on the news that it was taking 45 minutes to exit the parking lot at the nearby shopping mall, and I’m very happy not to have to be around people who are so filled with the Christmas spirit that they may may murder you and run over their own grandma to get a parking spot. 

The kids are also in school until THURSDAY.  Their last day of school is THURSDAY.  I cannot imagine that there will be much learning this week.  I also cannot imagine how their teacher is a non-drinker, but that’s just me.  We all cope differently, I suppose.

Personally, I am going to cope with Christmas excitement – my own – by watching Christmas Vacation on the CBC tonight.  I am also now 90 years old, apparently, by using the words “on the CBC”.  I really need to buy the video of this movie, as I watch it every year and every year I become slightly annoyed at the editing of the words “We’re going to have the hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny Fucking Kaye”.  Ah, what a movie. 

Without further adieu, I will time travel back to 2007 and do a meme!  A Christmas meme!  Feel free to answer these questions in the comments or, if you are a blogger, answer them on your blog and put a link to it in the comments.  xoxo

Five Quick Christmas Questions:

1. What is your favourite Christmas beverage?
Wine is pretty much my favourite.  Red wine – it’s festive!  But on Christmas morning I do enjoy a cup of coffee with Bailey’s – the original Bailey’s.  I know they have all sorts of new flavours of Bailey’s, but because I am 90 years old (see also: referring to it as “the CBC”) I like the original.  I loathe even the idea of eggnog.  Just looking at it makes me feel all squeamy.  No amount of rum can fix that beverage.

2. What is your favourite Christmas song?
I love so many Christmas songs.  In no particular order: Last Christmas by Wham!, Santa Baby by anyone at all, Baby It’s Cold Outside – because who doesn’t like a festive song about date rape (“No, no, my answer is no!” “But what’s the sense in hurting my pride?”), White Christmas by Bing Crosby (because I am 90) and Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.  On the more religious side, I love O Holy Night and the Hallelujah song from the Messiah.  I like to sing it loudly, luckily for the people who I live with.  I also love this song, although it continues to make me sob and turn into a blotchy, red faced sentimental idiot.

3. What is your favourite Christmas movie?
Elf, followed closely by Christmas Vacation (it’s on the CBC TONIGHT) and When Harry Met Sally, which I count as a Christmas movie because it involves Christmas, New Year’s, and my husband will only watch it with me during the holidays.  He refuses to watch it more than that because I always get drunk and repeat all the dialogue.  Anyone want to come over and watch with me?  It’s super fun!

4. What is your favourite Christmas dessert?
My mom makes a chocolate Yule log with whipped cream.  It is PRETTY yummy.  I also really like to eat a lot of After Eights and call that dessert.  I need a cleanse just thinking about this.

5. How long do you leave your Christmas decorations up?
Heh.  I usually put the tree up EARLY – like before December 1st – and so by the afternoon of the 25th I want to tear everything down just so I can move through my living room without bumping into something.  I try to wait until after Boxing Day, just to be not such a grinch, but it doesn’t always happen.

If you’d like to participate in this meme, let me know – it’s fun! 

PS My gingerbread recipe is up at the cooking blog – nom nom nom.