Unsolicited Parenting Advice #4

When it comes to nutrition, deception is key.

I am very lucky that my child is willing to eat a wide variety of food. He eats nearly all fruit and tolerates a few vegetables. While I am happy that he will eat two bites of broccoli without coaxing at dinner, I do not believe him when he says he is done after those two bites. I mean, really? You're full? Because I bet you'd be changing your tune if I handed you an ice-cream sundae or a bag of Cheetos. Therefore, I sneak the veggies in whenever possible.

If your child is anything like Charlie, they are willing to eat an entire casserole of macaroni and cheese in a single sitting. This is a perfect place to sneak in the veggies. Broccoli, spinach and mushrooms are all delicious options. However, if your child is on to your little games and picks around anything that is green, I have an awesome alternative: cauliflower. It is white and almost indistinguishable against the noodles. Also, I am pretty sure this trick would work on adults who refuse to eat veggies as well.

I enjoy making mac-n-cheese from scratch but I imagine it would work with the boxed version, too. I chopped up the cauliflower into tiny rice-sized pieces. I mixed it in with the cooked noodles and cheese sauce then baked the casserole until heated through.

At dinner, I served Charlie the macaroni and a small side of cauliflower because I always try to give him some of the veggie in it's non hidden form to at least encourage him to try it.

"Do you want to try some cauliflower?"

"No." he says, as he takes another bite of macaroni.

"HA! Well, jokes on you kid!!! BECAUSE YOU JUST ATE SOME, SUCKER!!!"

(Don't say that.)

Another sneaky place to hide veggies is in things like meatloaf and even fruit smoothies. That's right, people. Sometimes my kid drinks kale shakes for breakfast.


And he looks good while doing it! AMIRITE Ladies??

A good friend and former co-worker of mine, Milena, used to talk about how she would make "mashed potatoes and friends" for her son. Basically, it was mashed potatoes with a bunch of other cooked veggies mixed into it. So sneaky and so delicious.


Leeks, green garlic, spinach and some lemon zest. Tonight it was going to be mashed potatoes and green friends, apparently.


Saute the greens in olive oil until tender then mix into the mashed potatoes with a splash of milk and some grated parmesan cheese. The cheese is (not really) optional.

So did Charlie eat it?

Um, no.

But that is not the point. The point is that I am trying to expose him to a variety of food....you know what, screw it. Have a bag of Cheetos, kid. And how about you just dip them in ketchup while you're at it.

Also, cheese

The proper order of a grilled tuna sandwich goes like this: bread, cheese, tuna, cheese, bread.

Why?

1. Because if you just put cheese on one side, the other side of the bread has nothing to grab on to. This could create a potential mess and nobody wants a mess.

2. More importantly, if I have to give you a reason why you should add more cheese to something I might find it difficult to remain your friend.

Bop-less

Shhhh....listen. Do you hear that beautiful sound?

The sound I am speaking of, also known as silence, is happening right now because my boy is napping! If I am being completely honest, I have little room to complain as he has always been a good sleeper. Actually, take that back: Charlie has always been a great sleeper. I knew we must have gotten the deluxe model of baby when at just two-months-old, we put him to bed after his last feeding at around 11 p.m. and then Grant and I woke up to a quiet house at 7 a.m. Convinced that something terrible must have happened, we rushed into his room. What we found was our swaddled little monkey, happily snoozing away. Thank God the sound of our jaws dropping to the floor did not wake him. Instead, we gave each other a silent "high five," crept out of the room, crawled back into bed and promised we would buy him anything he ever wanted for Christmas, forever. Barring any illness or unforeseen circumstances, he has been sleeping like that ever since.

When other parents would ask me, "So, how is he sleeping? Still keeping you guys up?" I would cringe and say, "Not really. He has been sleeping through the night for a while now." They would look at me quizzically and ask, "Like, since when?"

That's when I would brace myself, give them the answer, and then throw my arms up in an effort to block the punch that was headed straight for my skull. It was a warranted sucker punch to the face though; sleep deprivation can make you do crazy things, or so I've been told.

Up until a week ago, naps were also no problem at all. But then, we decided it was time to throw a wrench into this whole perfect set-up and take away the pacifier, or as Charlie lovingly refers to it, his "bop."

I was anticipating a serious battle of wills when it came to taking the bop away, especially at night. For several months now, Charlie was only using his bop for nap and bedtime but never during the day. He never asked for it during the day either, but when it was time to go to sleep he knew what was coming.

"Get bop?" he'd ask.

"Yes, we will go get bop." I'd say and he would start to giggle with delight. As soon as he saw it he would shake from the anticipation of all the awesome soothing that was about to occur. After a story or two (or five sometimes) he would go to his crib, wide awake with not so much as a whimper and fall asleep all on his own.

(Seriously, why am I doing this again? I mean, so he takes his bop to college? Who cares! )

A few weeks before saying goodbye to his bops, we began talking about how he was such a big boy and pretty soon he wasn't going to need them anymore. Maybe he could give them away to a baby who needs them? He agreed that he was in fact a big boy and he seemed willing to give them away. Easier said than done, I thought.

The first night without it was remarkably easy and I was so very proud of my big boy that I almost cried. I then realized that the truth was this manipulative little stinker has been playing me for a fool and probably could have ditched the thing 6 months ago. Well played, little one, well played. But, if night time was so easy that nap time should be a breeze.

Or so I thought.

The first nap, both Grant and I were home. He went down without a protest like the night before and we thought we had it made. But then he started talking to himself which turned to singing and then to screaming. He clearly wasn't going to sleep so we caved and went in to get him likely just seconds before he began dismantling his crib.

The next day I was home by myself with Charlie and fearing we would have a repeat of the day before, I decided on a "no mercy" approach and mercy, I had none. He lasted for about 2 minutes and then the wailing began. But I was not going to let him get to me; this was nap time and he could sleep or cry all he wanted but he was staying in there for at least one hour. Besides I had brownies to eat and talk shows to watch and all the other things stay-at-home moms do! Right? I'm sorry, I forgot, it wasn't talk shows to watch, it was bathrooms to clean which means it sure as hell wasn't the kind of brownies you were initially thinking of either.

The day three nap had to be better though, right? It became clear right away that I was about to have a repeat of the day before. But I was sticking to my decision: no mercy. So when I went upstairs and he was screaming "Mommy sing me a song! Mommy sing me a song!!!" And I stood outside his door, my heart broken into 70 million pieces at my feet trying to convince my brain that this mom was NO MERCY!

And then I opened the door to his room. I mean for Christ's sake, he wants me to sing him a song!!! You think he is going to ask for that when he is 15-years-old? I picked him up and said, "Charlie it is nap time so I will sing you one song and then it is time for bed. Do you understand?" He whimpered out a pathetic, "yes."

We sat down in the rocker, his head on my shoulder and requested "Homeward Bound" by Ben Kweller. He was asleep before I got through the first chorus. That's when I realized that I was clearly asking too much of him. Just days before I allowed him to go to sleep with a tool and then I took that tool away without replacing it with something else. So now, I spend a few extra minutes helping him fall asleep with a song or two. It's not going to last forever and someday I imagine I'd bet I'll be willing to do just about anything to rock him to sleep one more time.

What? "No mercy mom" also knows how to compromise!


Charlie at seven months old when this thing was basically another appendage.


Charlie Shellen: Train conductor, lover of mac-n-cheese and Super Big Boy.

Happy Belated Valentine's Day

By Brittaney Meyer

(My best friend, Brittaney's in-laws live in Twain Harte, CA and usually at least once a year, they have all of us up for a weekend of wine, food and fun (in no particular order.) This president's day weekend was no exception. Brittaney and I usually are responsible for breakfast. For Brittaney's breakfast she made, smoked salmon Eggs Benedict with homemade hollandaise sauce, potato and brussel sprout hash and fruit salad. When the meal was finally complete and it was time to eat, Brittaney said, "Now I feel like this meal needs bacon."

God, I love this girl.)

I should preface this post with the following statement: I’m not big on Valentine’s Day. Please don’t misunderstand—I am for love. I am for expressing that love. I just feel that it is more important to express my love and appreciation for say, my husband, throughout the year during everyday moments instead of on the 14th of February. I also feel that it is important that he express his love for me throughout the year and not on a Hallmark prescribed “holiday”… and he does, because, let’s face it, it don’t get much better than this. Am I right?

That being said, I love cooking and I love a theme so, in that regard, Valentine’s Day is right up my alley. Hence, many years ago, when Ryan and I were too poor to buy each other Valentine’s gifts even if we had wanted to, I instituted the “all red food” Valentine’s Day dinner tradition. I will admit, I am not perfect (hard to believe, but true) and I have missed a year here or there because of some conflicting circumstance, but, for the most part, I have kept up the tradition of the all red food dinner. Here are my three rules for the “all red food” dinner:

1. All food groups should be represented—as it is very difficult to find red dairy products that don’t violate rule #2 (see below) I give myself a pass on this one and allow dairy products to be the white “accent” to my red dinner.

2. If at all possible, one should not cheat—a.k.a. food coloring should be avoided and substituted with foods that actually are red of their own volition (please note that I broke rule #2 this year because my husband promised our daughter red polenta—amature).

3. Beverages are part of dinner—they should be red.

Here is what the Meyer family ate this Valentine’s Day:

Starter: Tomato, Bean and Mozzarella Salad with Oregano Vinaigrette



Yes, I realize that basil is not red. But do you know what basil is? Delicious! So, lay off.

Starch: Pink Polenta (see disclaimer above)



I mixed some red food coloring in with the polenta—looks appetizing, right?



And then I cut it with a cookie cutter, pan fried it and made tiny, pink, heart shaped polenta fritters. Our five-year-olds thought they were the highlight of the meal.

Main Couse: Eggplant Parmesan



It doesn’t look that great in the pan alone so you will have to get by on a picture of it with its dining buddies. On the downside, it did not come out as red as I had hoped. On the upside, it tasted better than it looked.

Beverage: Martinelli’s Sparkling Apple and Pomegranate Cider



Apparently Martinelli’s is good for drinking AND smelling—Madison said she sensed top notes of cinnamon and raspberry while appreciating the crisp, clean finish.

Dessert: Strawberries with whip cream “accent”



This is the conversation I had with Ella while making dessert:

Ella: What are you making?
Me: Whip cream and strawberries.
Ella: Strawberry shortcake?
Me: No, just strawberries with whip cream.
Ella: [pause] And cake.
Me: No cake.
Ella: Why? What happened to the cake?

Apparently dessert was a slight disappointment. However, I’m pretty sure the pink hued polenta hearts more than made up for it. Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope you were able to spend it with people you love.

Love, B

The "Poke and Tuck"

As the old Danish proverb goes: "If the aebleskiver doesn't come to you, bring yourself to the aebleskiver."

(Disclaimer: This is not so much a Danish proverb as something I just made up.)

My sister, Jessie, and I wanted to learn how to make aebleskivers, so with our respective partners in tow, we headed to Grandma's and Grandpa's house to make it happen. My 91-year-old grandfather, who still does a significant amount of cooking and baking, has almost entirely hung up his apron when it comes to the art of "skivering." (Disclaimer: Again, I just made that up.) His primary job these days is to sit in his rolling dining room chair, lean back and critique our ability to make the pancake balls. It is a much-needed and welcome addition to the kitchen. His successor is his eldest son (my Uncle Steve).



However, my uncle said from the beginning that he was not going to be making this particular batch and if Jess and I wanted to learn, we were going to have to do it ourselves. Fair enough.


Separating eggs LIKE A BAWS!


Mixing, measuring, mixing, measuring.


Even Charlie gets in on the action and assists in some sifting.



Uncle Steve did the first "test" aebleskiver to ensure the pan was at the correct temperature. But after this one, it was all on us. To make an aebleskiver, you fill the divot of the pan with the batter. You let it cook for a minute or so and then it is time to turn. I never took physics in high school so I don't really get the "laws" of it or anything, but I am telling you: these things seemed to defy those laws. To make the ball shape, the pancake needs to be turned. Using a stick (my uncle uses a fondue skewer but any kind of skewer will work) grab the edge of the batter and turn it about a third of a turn. There is no way this should work. It should just collapse in on itself as soon as you make that first turn. Behold:


Take a moment to revel in its glory. A scientific miracle!

Once it has cooked a bit after the first turn it is time to turn again. My sister and I approached this task gingerly; surely too much disruption to the little sphere of dough would deflate it. As we tried to carefully rotate it around, my uncle said, "Don't be too afraid to really poke at it" as he jabbed the skewer into the pancake. "And then when you grab it, you really need to make sure you tuck the side in so it doesn't get any holes."

"So basically, Uncle Steve, you are telling me I gotta poke and tuck my balls." Yes, that's right kids, it doesn't take much for things to take an inappropriate turn in the Andersen household. From that point on the genital jokes continued to the giggly delight of my grandfather, my grandma just shaking her head at the crassness of her granddaughters. Can I really be blamed though? Her son is my father!


An excellent display of some perfectly poked and tucked balls.

All in all, it was a very successful morning. It was wonderful to learn from a master like Uncle Steve. The pancakes were divine and we ate every last one of them (Charlie was responsible for consuming about half of them.)



Heather Shellen: Master of the "Poke and Tuck."

And yes, in the words of Michael Scott, that's what she said.

Want to try making your own? Williams-Sonoma sells a great aebleskiver pan.

THIS is why we are best friends.

"The girls wanted a yogurt." Brittaney says as she hands Madison a blueberry and Ella a strawberry. The flavors, consequently, corresponding their favorite colors. "Is it okay if Charlie has one too?"

"Sure. Whatever you have is fine."

She grabs a vanilla from the fridge and I excuse myself for a moment. I come back in the room to find the three kids with their containers of yogurt in front of them. Madison and her blueberry, Charlie eating strawberry and Ella, begrudgingly eating vanilla. Vanilla: otherwise known as the non-pink one.

"I gave Charlie strawberry. I hope that's ok."

"Oh yeah, sure. It doesn't matter." I look over at Ella who is giving Charlie her best "stink eye."

"The vanilla expired yesterday. I didn't want to give it to Charlie but Ella will be fine."

Sacrificing expired dairy products at the expense of her own child? That is love. (And I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing for her kids.)

More Soup Talk.

Ever wonder if there is something productive you can do with the green tops to your leeks?

What's that? You don't buy leeks?

Ok, let me back up. Go buy leeks because they're delicious. Now, cut all the dark green tops off and yes, I am fully aware that you are now only left with half of the vegetable that you paid full price for. But trust me, you don't want to eat those woody tops.

So, back to my original question:

Ever wonder if there is something productive you can do with the green tops to your leeks? I now have the answer! Before throwing them in the trash (COMPOST! I meant compost!) use them to flavor homemade vegetable stock.



I basically adapted my stock from this recipe by the incomparable Ina Garten. Since I had no onions, I substituted the onions for the leek tops. I also just went ahead and made her cream of mushroom as well. I would highly recommend it.

However, if cream of mushroom is not your thing, you don't have to use this stock only for that; you could use it as a rich and flavorful base for any soup, really. But making homemade stock is extra work, I'm aware. So you know what else you could do? Go to the store and buy a box of pre-made stock. I won't judge you. But then again, I also won't judge you if you just said screw the soup, ordered Chinese take-out and ate it straight out of the box on the couch while you cried over 16 and Pregnant re-runs. Just saying. Also, can I join you?