By Lisa
Our annual family movie. Written by Ella. Illustrated by Ella and Kory. Animated by Kory. Executive Produced by Lisa & Finn.
By Lisa
Our annual family movie. Written by Ella. Illustrated by Ella and Kory. Animated by Kory. Executive Produced by Lisa & Finn.
by Lisa
Like many of my spontaneous ideas, this one began with a question.
After Finn’s long fever, he broke his fast with a brunch of green eggs and toast. For some reason, I was inpsired to butter his bread. Taking a bite, he said, “I got big bite of butter on toast.”
“Yes,” I said, “I put butter on your toast today. It’s good isn’t it?”
Finn nodded, then said, “I love butter.”
“Me, too,” I said.
Then Finn looked at me and asked, “Where butter come from?”
“From cows,” I said, and his jaw dropped and eyes grew wide. “I not know that!” he said.
“You take the cream from the cow, and you shake and churn and shake and churn it, and then it turns into butter,” I said. Which he thought was pretty funny.
At this point, something possessed me from which my arteries may never recover. “You want to make some butter?”
“Right now?” he asked.
“Right now,” I answered.
“Yeah!”
And so I got a jam jar and 5 marbles. I filled the jam jar halfway up with organic whipping cream, dropped in the marbles, sealed it up, and we shook, and shook, and shook.
First, the cream turns to whipped cream. Then it expands and nearly fills the jar. Then it begins to get a little lumpy and curdle-y looking.
Then, in the final shakes, the cream seizes, and a lump of soft yellow butter separates from the butter milk. It’s extremely cool.
Drain off the milky-water liquid, fish out the marbles, and you have your butter.
Later, I read that you’re supposed to wash the butter, and work it, but it was so good we just squeezed out as much water as we could, dumped it in ramekins and ate it. It didn’t last long.
Of course, when Ella got home, she wanted to make some too, so we made another small batch.
I know this story does nothing to dispel the (sub)urban homestead aura that’s hovering around my posts these days. But truly, the only down side to this project is that the butter is so good you actually want to eat quite a lot of it.
And of course, nothing is as good as fresh bread and fresh butter, so we got out the breadmaker on Saturday and Ella made a loaf. Which is also gone.
So, in the spirit of giving thanks for cows and somewhat-mad kitchen science, let fresh butter grace all your holiday tables. Or let it make an easy but special hostess gift. We’re sure to bring some to Ella’s cousins on Thursday.
Happy churning.
By Lisa
With the economy in freefall, and no real end in sight, many of us are thinking about money and our weekly budgets, and how to save where we can. I’ve heard people talking about bundling phone, internet, cable, getting rid of their landlines, adjusting their car & homeowners insurance–all in an attempt to get rid of waste, money being spent that doesn’t really need to be spent.
But what does this mean for our food spending?
Lots of food bloggers have already written about this, and about food deals and shopping tips, and related topics like how to make dinner for a family of four on $10 or less. And in a recent conversation with one of the farmers I buy from every week, she mentioned that fast food sales are up.
But for me, the change in my food spending patterns has been negligible.
I think about food and money a lot, in part because it feels like I spend so much money on food. In any given week, I spend between $90-$120 at Trader Joes, and depending on the season, between $40-$80 at the Farmers Market. At the height of summer, when I’m buying to freeze for the winter, and loading up on stone fruit, berries, and tomatoes, it’s at the high end. Now, when I have a freezer full of produce and the market goods are much more reasonable, I can get away with $40, including my weekly supply of fish.
It is true that for a small family–in size as well as stature–with children only 4 & 6 years old, this is a lot of money. But Ella and Finn are terrific eaters, they eat exactly what we eat, and overall, we eat a lot–really a lot of fresh food. Aside from extra water, some judiciously chosen canned goods, extra peanut butter, & crackers, and energy bars that we keep on hand for earthquake supplies (a necessity where we live, just in case) we have no processed food in the house. The kids snack on fresh fruit, some cheese, some crackers, fresh nuts from the market, etc. At the end of the week, all of the farmers market produce is gone.
I have certainly cut back in many ways. I no longer buy three kinds of olives on a regular basis. We eat very little meat, and very small amounts when we do. There was a time when I would have 2 kinds of prosciutto in the house, or specialty cheeses from Whole Foods, three or four kinds of olive oil, etc. Now these kinds of things are reserved for dinner parties or special occasions. We eat out less frequently. And I don’t know what I would do without Trader Joes, where I can get lots of local products (masked as generic TJ brand) at terrific prices.
But I won’t compromise on the farmers market, nor on buying organic, local meats, nor on shunning processed and premade foods–with a very few exceptions. Michael Pollan wrote recently in the New York Times that household spending on food has gone from 18% to less than 10%, which made me feel better when contemplating the fact that by far the largest part of our weekly budget goes to food. There was a time in this country when it was normal to spend a good amount of money on good quality food. I’m certainly not saying one has to spend a lot of money, nor that bargains can’t be found–just that what we put on our tables should be compromised as little as possible given the family budget. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to aim for spending the least amount possible on food (just as I think it’s no longer a wise choice for most of us regularly to splurge at specialty markets).
It’s our argument here that food and eating is a central part of family life, and that how we feed our young children has an impact not simply on their health, but also on their lifestyle, now and for the rest of their lives For me, though some weeks I sigh as the food bills climb, the payoff is mmediately visible when we sit around our table. The lessons of how we eat are legion–eating fresh, eating locally, eating seasonally, supporting farmers, eating sustainable food, knowing the origins of their food, knowing how food makes its way from farm to table, understanding growing seasons, understanding the real cost of food, knowing that our economy directly supports the farm economy, knowing the animals they eat were raised humanely and sustainably, etc.
These are lessons that will resonate in my children’s lives for years to come.
Let us know what you think. How do you balance food and finances?
by Lisa
Unlike Caroline, I don’t bake a lot. We were joking the other day about our families and how although we have many things in common, there are some major differences. The fact that we eat meat for one. The fact–as she joked–that I’m going “going urban homestead.” I demurred, but she’s not entirely wrong.
This fall, as we do every year, we roasted and froze 40lbs of tomatoes, made and froze about 20 family-sized servings of pesto, froze 3 flats of raspberries, and picked over 300 apples. My freezer is a sophisticated and delicately balanced puzzle of epic organization.
I do this because it saves me time and money, it adds some variety to our winter diet, but I do this mostly because all this produce tastes better than the canned kind. Bring home mountains of fresh, organic produce, freeze it immediately, and you have a farmers market in your freezer all winter long. Yes, it takes time in those weeks that you’re canning and freezing, but then when school starts and you need a quick dinner, just reach in your freezer and there it is: emergency pesto, tomatoes that cook to the richest, sweetest sauce you’ll ever make, a surprise dessert.
But now, with the weather not turning, the apples are not lasting as well as they should. So this weekend, it was time to invest in an automatic apple peeler and make apple sauce. The gadget worked like a dream, and while I roasted beets and peppers (because, okay, the hoarding & stockpiling instinct is still strong within me), Kory, Ella, and Finn went to town. In about ten seconds flat, a four year old can peel an apple.
And so can his sister:
Or they can peel, core, and slice into cute spirals in the same lightning speed:
They ate a lot of apples, and Ella chomped down the skin like it was a long string of candy.
I made the apple sauce by instinct after reading a few recipes online. Honestly, I made it for the kids. I don’t think I’ve eaten applesauce for 30 years. But after tasting our homemade version, I’m guessing that Ella and Finn will be lucky to have two more bowls.
We ate it warm that night for dessert. With a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It tasted like fresh picked, intensely sweet apples. Dessert gets fancier, and more chocolate-y, but I’m not at all sure it gets any better.
Homemade Apple Sauce
20-30 small apples
1/4 cup organic white sugar
1/4 cup organic brown sugar
2-3 strips lemon zest (from an organic lemon)
juice from 1/2 lemon
1 cup water
1 cinnamon stick
1. Peel, core, and chop or slice the apples. (Alternately, try leaving the skin on for flavor). Put them in a large pot with the other ingredients. Bring to a boil then lower heat and simmer until apples are nearly dissolved.
2. REMOVE lemon zest and cinnamon stick.
3. Mash with a potato masher for a thicker, chunkier sauce. Or pass the mixture through a food mill.
Note: If you use fewer apples, just reduce the amount of sugar and zest accordingly, as long as you keep the brown & white sugars of equal proportion. But you can also freeze this in individual or family-sized servings, just in case you’re compelled to start your own stockpile.
By Lisa
The padrone-eating incident (now updated with pictures) was not without precedent.
One of our family staples, especially when it’s high pepper season, is dish of roasted red peppers bathed in olive oil, with capers, garlic, and anchovies.
Before you stop reading at “anchovy,” please consider this: a mysterious alchemy occurs when the peppers meet anchovies and garlic in a bath of olive oil. The peppers mellow and deepen in flavor, the anchovies sweeten and lose some of their bite. You can choose not to eat the anchovies. Or if you are still squeamish, you can, if you must, leave them out altogether, though you will be missing something.
I have served this dish many, many times at parties, to unsuspecting friends, and it disappears quickly. I have served it to children, at dinner parties–not just my own–who have devoured it. I have served it to my father-in-law, who hates anchovies, but still loves the peppers.
Truly, this is a dish that is more than the sum of its parts.
Every Sunday, all summer long, I made a large dish of these peppers and stashed it away in the refrigerator to marinate. I am not exaggerating when I write that this dish came out nearly every night, as appetizer or side dish. Ella tucked into it with abandon, piling her bread high with peppers, sprinkling a caper or two, then soaking the whole thing in a spoon or two of the marinating oil. By the end of the summer, even Finn, who is a more cautious eater, was fighting her for a pass at the olive oil, which is liquid gold in its own right. At parties and barbecues, Ella’s self-appointed job was to make the plate of the pepper-crostini. They’re bright and pretty on the plate, and they go just as well with beer as with prosecco. We never got tired of them.
In the winter time, or for big parties, I make the same dish from jarred roasted peppers. In summer, when peppers are in season, I bring home my weekly stash of red, yellow, chocolate peppers, and roast them on the grill. If I’m really pressed for time, I can throw the peppers in the convection oven, but they aren’t quite as good this way. It will keep easily for a week, covered in the refrigerator.
The recipe comes from the pages of Marcella Hazan’s Classic Italian Cooking, one of my go-to books when I have a fresh, local, seasonal ingredient and want inspiration.
Below is the basic recipe, with my notes & variations. Once the peppers are roasted, there’s nothing simpler. Consider it insurance for those pre-dinner hunger attacks.
Roasted Peppers with Garlic, Capers, and Anchovies
Ingredients:
Ingredient notes:
Peppers: Red are traditional and the sweetest, but try different varieties as accent colors and flavors if you’re so inclined.
Anchovies: Only buy anchovies packaged in glass (not tins). My experience has been that the more you pay, the better product you get. There is a vast difference in quality between cheaper and more expensive brands.
Oregano: Dried is just fine. Fresh sprigs are fine. My favorite is to dry sprigs from my bush, and use these. They’re pretty and flavor is best. If you use dried sprigs, you’ll likley need only 3 or so for a large dish.
Capers: If you use salt-packed, rinse them well.
Olive oil: Just a good, decent extra-virgin is fine. Nothing fancy. You need a lot of it, so I just pour from whatever big tin I’ve got on hand that week: Sagra, Whole Foods, etc.
In the case of this recipe, for me, omissions are very often accidents. I’ve forgotten to add: capers, oregano, salt. I’ve run out of anchovies before I started, then it was too late to get to the store. You can assemble it meticulously, so it looks like a beautiful strata of color, or you can throw it together in a haphazard flash. The dish may be best with all of the ingredients, but it’s still delicious in whatever configuration you and your family prefer. Just don’t leave out the garlic.