East Meets West in Maddie Mae's Kitchen

Yesterday Madison went to a cooking class by a French friend here in the compound. She taught them how to make the most amazing, flaky Apple turn over pasteries. Once left to make their own however she decided to try combining her skills and make her French apple pastry into a dumplings cousin. Our other Chinese friend taught her and Jacob how to make dumplings for Chinese New Year in February. This girl loves language, culture, cooking and food.

Ratings Are In

December 19, 2013

Gina has gone home to visit her family in Tacloban City, or what's left of it anyway. Because she is gone I'm back on duty and cooked dinner tonight. Just for fun I asked how I did for my first night of cooking. Madison said it wasn't my first night cooking. I used to cook before Gina was here but she doesn't think I've cooked a single thing in THREE years. Oh brother. Totally NOT true. Gina does dinner only. Brian and I do everything else. I make cakes and cookies, breakfast muffins and coffee cakes, cheesecake and pumpkin pies, mashed potato and rolls.

Luckily Ben ranked me a two thumbs up and realized I have done some cooking in the last 21 months since we hired Gina.

Ben Quotes and Cooking Adventures

“Mom…..I feel like Virginia was an ice land like in the movie Ice Age because it was so cold there. And below Virginia is a WHOLE NEW WORLD!! It’s called Singapore and there is no snow there EVER!”

While I was blogging and the kids finishing dinner, “Ewwww! Food just came out my nose when I sneezed. That’s weird. Hey, are you typing that on the blog?” “Yep.” “Okay, I’ll try to do it again then. Before you finish you need to write, ‘Ben got carrot on his chair and arm.’”

Also said today. “Mom, I know what I want for snack tomorrow. Carrots.” Uhhhh…say what? That coming from the boy who typically sheds tears over the thought of eating a tiny baby carrot. Today he was starving after school. He asked for a snack. I said he needed to come up with an idea. For weeks he has shot down any idea I give him and flops on the ground because whatever terrible food I dared mention makes him so upset. I ask and ask what he wants me to have in the house that isn’t candy or ice cream for snacks. Not once has he provided an answer. We have almost nothing under the sun that he will take to school for snack beyond pears. When we go on Saturday family outings we pack lots of water and several snack foods and I ask before we go what he wants, offering up to six or seven different things. I think he’s chosen to go hungry every single week so far. This kid is picky beyond belief. No granola bars, no pretzels, goldfish only sometimes, no banana, no apple, no oranges, no raisins. Just forget even trying vegetables. And now apparently he’s having carrots for snack tomorrow. I think it has something to do with the fact that he prepared them and they were just a slight touch sweeter than the normal big carrots. In any case, I’ll cross my fingers, but I’m not holding my breath.

The net result of his hunger today was that he chose a single slice of bread for his snack and ten minutes later was asking if it was dinner time. It was 4:20. I asked what he wanted to eat for dinner. He asked if we had mac'n'cheese, which we did. He got it and began preparing to cook it. Seizing on the odd opportunity that was currently presenting itself, I helped him read the instructions on the box, supervise to make sure he got all the right tools and watched him cook a dinner he was really excited to eat. It was awesome! Knowing the water would take a good while to boil I told him this is the time you use to get other things ready. I showed him the available vegetables in the fridge. He chose carrots. He peeled them and I chopped them up. He plated them. We read the next instruction to drain the noodles. I asked if the sink was ready. He understood the problem of having all the carrot skins in the sink so he cleaned it up. What a great day. I do think it was the best dinner I've had in a while. Just don't mention to him that we had mac'n'cheese for lunch today too. It was totally worth eating again for him to take such pride in his work.

After dinner Ben continued to be fantastic. This kid usually whines about any tiny amount of homework. Not today. He did his math on the bus and was just fine with doing the corrections I had to have him fix, mostly it was 5, 6 and 7 written backwards which is terribly frustrating to him. Then he did make-up spelling journal exercises because we swam and had a pizza party on Tuesday instead of homework. Then he did tonight's spelling homework. I asked him to read two books because no matter how many we return each day, he gets two new ones each and every day. We had a back log of 9 at the house now. This nut job decided to read four. Then since he was halfway through anyway, he finished the entire pile. We were up an hour past bedtime so he could do it, but it was totally worth it. He's a good boy that Ben. I think we're going to keep him around.

Food for Thought

Some things make me nuts. Raw meat is one of them. Everyone knows you must cook meat to the proper temperature to avoid getting violently ill. I dutifully hand wash the knife and cutting board I cut up raw chicken with and try to avoid cross contamination when I touch raw meat by washing my hands before I move on to the next task. This brings up my question of the day - At what point in the cooking cycle does the meat become cooked enough? Assume you have your raw chicken thaw on a plate in the fridge. You use tongs to pick them up and put it on the skillet or grill. Now it's time to check how the cooking is going. What do you use? The raw tongs? Get new ones? Chicken needs more time on that side. Checking the second time which tongs are you using? Give it two more minutes. Time to flip them over. Which tongs? Do you have to keep track of which side of the tongs stays on the cooked side and which side is allowed to touch the raw side? Now we cook the other side, but one side is raw, one side is cooked. Which tongs? Check it. Check it. Check it again. Chicken is grilled to prefection. How many sets of tongs have you now gone through? Do you get a brand new set to use to remove it from the grill? Just a question. It is about as frusterating as trying to wash my hair. The directions say, "Wash. Rinse. Repeat."

The Soup that Bites Back...and other Sunday Adventures

Angie invited guests over for Sunday dinner this week. She invited two families over. Since there would be a fair number of people, we decided to serve a Minestrone soup and Sloppy Joes because we could easily make a lot of both and people would have a choice of what they wanted to eat. Angie prepared the soup in the Crock Pot in the morning so it would simmer while we were at Church. Since I had attended the Spanish services in the morning, and our church falls right during Jacob's nap, I took Jacob home to his crib after our sacrament service so he could get his much needed Z's. Just before Jacob and I returned to the church to pick up the rest of the family I decided to stir the soup and I tried a small bite to see how the flavor was turning out. I was surprised when the soup bit me back--it was spicier than I had expected. I had to hurry out so I didn't try it again. On the way back to the church I decided I must not have stirred very well and perhaps some extra spices were floating on top of the soup where I pulled my sample. When I saw Angie I told her I thought the soup was a bit hot and asked her what spices she had added to the soup. She stated that she had combined a couple of recipes--one asked for 1 teaspoon of chili powder and the other asked for 1 Tablespoon, so she added 1 Tablespoon. She did not add any other spices that would give heat to the soup. At this point our conversation was interrupted by car problems. Over the past several months we have had problems starting our car. When we turn the key the starter would click, but the engine would not turn over. After repeated attempts the car eventually starts. Sometimes it would only take two attempts, sometimes it would take three minutes. Over these months, I made several attempts to isolate the problem with no success. I even took the car to the auto parts store for an electrical systems test--the car passed with flying colors. This day, however, the car did just the opposite--it wouldn't turn off. I stopped as normal, keeping my foot on the brake pedal until I had removed the key and released the clutch. When I released the clutch, the car jerked forward, despite having my foot on the brake pedal and having engaged the emergency brake. I quickly pressed in the clutch and the motor started up again. Our car was possessed! It was running with the key out. I took the car out of gear and opened up the hood. Sure enough, the engine was still turning over, even though I had the keys in my hand. I put the keys back in and turned to the On position--the engine fired up. I turned the keys off and the engine slowed down a bit but kept turning. The starter just would not quit trying to start the car. To reduce the load on the starter I put the key back to On while I looked for a wrench. I finally disconnected the battery and the car continued running. After about 15 seconds the engine finally died. I touched the cable back to the battery and the car immediately started again. I disconnected both cables from the battery, closed the hood, and went inside. It was Sunday, after all, so I thought it best to leave working on the car for another day. Oh yeah, did I mention I had guests coming over shortly? We still had to get everything ready for them. After we came in the house, Angie went straight to the soup and stirred it really well. Then she tried a small bite--the soup bit her back as well. This was not the delicious soup we have made several times before. We couldn't figure out why the soup was so hot--chili powder just doesn't have that much kick. At some point Angie realized she had been foiled by her effort to de-clutter our spice cabinet. She has been working to identify which spices are essentially the same and eliminate unneeded bottles. For example, she has successfully eliminated Italian Spice because it is mostly Oregano, which we now substitute in its place. When making the soup, she pulled the Red Pepper out of the cabinet as a substitue for the Chili Powder. She remembered after tasting the soup that Red Pepper is the same as Cayenne Pepper, which is definitely not a substitute for Chili Powder. Our fire soup was proof that the Red Pepper and Chili Powder are two completely different spices. At this point we only had about an hour left before our guests were supposed to arrive. While Angie prepared the Sloppy Joes, I turned to my trusty sidekick to find a solution for the soup--Google. I searched for "how to remove spicy from food" (this was how Google's automatic phrase completion worded it). The first suggestion I encountered was advice to drink a cup of fire sauce each morning just after waking up--perhaps this won't help the spicy wouldn't go away, but you will build up your tolerance so it is bearable. I didn't think our guests had been following this advice, so I continued searching. I soon encountered information that sugar can be used to reduce the heat--in fact, a pepper's spicyness is measured by the amount of sugar required to neutralize the spice. After a few articles confirmed the same advice, I went to work. I drained out the liquid using a strainer and then replaced it with fresh tomato sauce and water. I considered washing the vegetables, but decided I didn't want to wash away all of the flavor. The soup was still a little hot, so I added as much sugar as I dared without turning the soup into a tomato-vegetable punch. The soup ended up much better than it was, but it was still a little spicier than we would like it. The guests arrived and he rest of dinner seemed to go well. Monday morning I decided to tackle the car. After reconnecting the battery and starting the car a couple of times it became possessed again and wouldn't shut off. I disconnected the battery and the cable on the starter coming from the key switch. When I reconnected the battery the engine immediately started turning over. Success! The starter was the problem. I triumphantly carried the starter to the auto parts store, exchanged it for a new one (of course, they required a bit of money for the privilege of doing business with them), installed the new one in the car, rebuked the demons possessing my car, and then connected the battery. Nothing happened. I put the key in and started it--it started like a charm. I turned the key off and the engine fell silent. I tried it a few more times and everything worked as it should. Sunday was a busy day, but everything seemed to resolve to a fine conclusion. 21 Jan 2010 Update: Tuesday we had the leftover soup for dinner. Wednesday morning Angie told me she had heartburn all night long. She blames the soup for giving her the worst heartburn she has ever felt.

The Dinner That Wasn't Meant To Be

Though not as abundant as in years past, our church still does a pretty bang up job of taking care of new moms.  When Maddie and Jacob were born, I got at least fourteen meals brought in to my family, several while I still had my mom here to help me.  Yes, a bit excessive.  Okay, really excessive.  I ended up cancelling the last four meals both times because we had no fridge space to take any more, but ohhhhh, the pampering!  About two weeks after Jacob was delivered, we had a changing of the guard so to speak and someone else is in charge.  Now people only get three or four meals after the family help is gone, more if needed.  In my view, that's right on target.

My friend Jana had a baby a month ago and got her meals, but since she is a real good friend and she brought my family one of our favorite meals after Jacob was born, I thought I would take her a bonus meal.  After all, who doesn't want a night off from the drudgery of cooking?  We picked a date and I had a plan.  Pulled pork sandwiches, a fresh green salad, vegetables, cookies, the works. 

That morning we went to playgroup and one of the little kids had an accident there at the fountain.  She was just over a year and was standing up on a chair.  Her mother and I looked at just the same time to see her start to tip backwards as she clasped at the top of the chair back with panic on her face.  Neither of us were close enough to catch her and she went down hard, crushing three of her tiny fingers.  She ripped her hand out from its pinched position between the metal chair back and the concrete and in the process ripped off three of her fingernails.  What do you do then, but send mom off to the emergency room with the only one of us at the fountain that had a spare seat in their vehicle.  Luckily she had the presence of mind to leave us her keys to her van.  Then we had to figure out how to get 15 kids to 4 homes with 3 drivers and not enough carseats.  What a mess.  Can I just say that every woman needs a set of good girlfriends like we have here at our playgroup.  In a pinch, they step in so you can do what you need to do at the drop of a hat.  I love those women.

Anyway, back to the dinner that wasn't meant to be.  This, of all days, was the day I was supposed to deliver dinner.  Now I was watching three extra kids at my place, had to make them lunch at 2pm when we finally arrived at my home after the serious juggling act getting everyone to the right places.  It was approaching three hours late for putting the meat in the crockpot, but figured it would be okay I usually cook frozen meat and this one was totally thawed out.  Turns out I was wrong still.  Not only was I way late in starting, I had bought the wrong cut of meat.  It was soooo tough.  It needed lots of extra time, like three hours more.  It was ready to start shredding the pork at about 9pm, but dinner was to be delivered at 6pm.

At the last minute, I realized there was no hope on the pulled pork sandwiches.  I considered ordering pizza for them, but remembered I could whip out calzones in half an hour.  Brian called them to let them know I was running late and I threw together a decent dinner and delivered it about an hour late.  Good thing they're good friends and can still love me.

The next night I was pleased to have dinner ready to go. I shredded the pork and like magic, we enjoyed a lovely meal.  We had to rush out to the church for a baptism after dinner, so Brian packed up the meat and took Ben and Maddie for baths and changed.  I wiped down Jacob and packed up the last of the other food and opened the fridge to put it away when the entire bowl of delicious pulled pork crashed to the floor.  The lid popped off and instantly, I had warm pulled pork between my toes, all over the floor, all over the inside of the fridge, walls and anywhere else you can imagine.

I guess that it was the dinner that just wasn't meant to be.

• three hours late cooking
• 
  
  a day late for eating
• 
  
  the wrong cut of meat in the first place
• 
  
  all over the floor in the end

Honey. I Lied.

I've maintained for our entire marriage that I don't like the taste of honey. Brian loves it. I'm a 100% red jam fan. PB & J sandwiches leave a weird taste in my mouth and I don't like it drizzled over anything. Uhhh...except scones. I've wanted scones for about two years now. In Utah you can go to Sconecutters anytime. Seems like their drive through window was open like 24 hours a day. Anyway, I bet it's been ten years since I had the pleasure of sinking my teeth into a light and fluffy scone delight. A year ago last July I even bought some apple butter with the intent to make scones, but it sat in my counter for months, then in the cupboard. Then Mali left me a deep fryer. Yesterday I got a hankering for scones and now I had a way to make them myself. I found a recipe from my favorite recipe website, All Recipes.com. Ben and I mixed the dough and let it rise while Jacob and Maddie napped. Okay. While Jacob napped and Maddie went back and forth from her bed to the kitchen telling us she had finished her nap and me sending her back upstairs to try again to sleep. When the dough had risen to fill the entire mixing bowl it was time to start and we heated the oil. The kids enjoyed rolling the dough and cutting the scones out with a plastic cup. They weren't really interested in the final product. That is until they tasted it. I suppose the best way to sum it up is that we didn't have much room for dinner. So I forgot that I do love honey after all. There is nothing better than a hot scone dripping with honey. Sorry I lied to you Brian. And to the rest of you all, if Brian and I die next month, you'll know it is because our blood turned into vegetable oil. It's just too hard to resist corn dogs, french fries, scones and donuts are on the menu for next week.

Homemade Bread Take Two

The results are in. I think Brian's comment at dinner last night is the best indicator of how my second attempt at homemade bread went. He said, "Have you called Megan to see how to make it yet?" You could rightfully say it wasn't a complete success. Just because I wasn't totally confident about the results, I took the first loaf out of the oven after 30 minutes when the recipe said and left the other in three more minutes. Just looking at the bottom of the two loaves it was obvious the 30 minute loaf was undercooked and the 33 minute loaf looked much better. Now that we have tasted the second loaf, it was yummy. It could likely use another minute or two of cooking, but it was a reasonable success. I'll keep trying buy attempt #2, loaf #2 gives me hope!

Why I Need a Nanny

I just don't have enough hands and eyes to keep track of everyone around here. This is what happened when I set the table for dinner and a starving Maddie tried to get the bread by herself while I got the rest of the family to come sit down.

I finally, after two months, broke out the Bosch and used it the first time since it arrived. I've just been to tired since it came to do any baking at all. So, I made bread. I tried my friend Megan Fife's bread recipe. It was simply delicious when Megan made it. Not quite as great when I tried. In my defense, I started making it, got the hot water to activate the yeast when Jacob had to nurse and Maddie had to use the potty. So it wasn't exactly in prime "warm" condition when I returned to finish the job. Oh well. I can always try again if we can finish eating the two dense loaves on the counter. Here's to next time, eh?

Homemade French Fries

I have wanted to make homemade french fries for years, but didn't have a deep fryer or a fry slicer. My Bosch mixer was on a special sale when I bought it so we got a blender and food shredder with french fry cutting blade. Now I just needed the deep fryer and I finally borrowed one from Mali last week. Of course, then I kept running out of time every night to make them. One night Brian offered to do it for me while I made grilled ham sandwiches. Ben was really excited and got totally involved in helping. As usual, Maddie was near by and in the way, trying to touch everything - including the 375 degree oil. Heating the oil was pretty boring, but they wouldn't leave their chairs for fear of missing something. Now we've made fries three times and they are absolutely delicious.

True to form, Brian always does things just a little bit better than your average Joe. He made spicy fries. Here is the recipe:

Homemade Crispy Seasoned French Fries

2 1/2 pounds russet potatoes, peeled 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon garlic salt 1 teaspoon onion salt 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon paprika 1/2 cup water, or as needed 1 cup vegetable oil for frying

DIRECTIONS Slice potatoes into French fries, and place into cold water so they won't turn brown while you prepare the oil. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. While the oil is heating, sift the flour, garlic salt, onion salt, (regular) salt, and paprika into a large bowl. Gradually stir in enough water so that the mixture can be drizzled from a spoon.

Dip potato slices into the batter one at a time, and place in the hot oil so they are not touching at first. The fries must be placed into the skillet one at a time, or they will clump together. Fry until golden brown and crispy. Remove and drain on paper towels.

Sunday Morning Cooking with Dad

We were planning to go to the "Goodbye Arveseth" party tonight and were trying to think what Ben could help cook to take to the party for his little friend Eliza. The boys decided to make rice krispie treats, but Brian doesn't like to be boring. He thought of a fun way to jazz it up and make it more fun for Ben to make and Eliza (and everyone else) to eat. They colored the marshmallow mixture orange and made them into balls. Once they put green marshmallows on the top, you could totally tell they were pumpkins. They had fun working together. Eliza thought they were cool and asked me for one from the pumpkin pile. She ate the marshmallow, licked the rice krispie and handed it to me, stating I could finish the rest because she was done. Yum... She ran off to play in the basement for the last time with all her best buddies. We are so sad to see them go.