ButterScience, with recipe

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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.

Dollars and Sense, one mother’s manifesto

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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?

Dessert, (urban) homestead style

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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.

Dinners Everybody Eats: The Second in an Optimistic Series

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by Caroline

It’s been a month since I posted the first in this series and everybody is still happily eating roasted cauliflower, so I’m emboldened to post again. This time it’s a meal that Tony, years ago (pre-kids, pre-marriage) dubbed Sweetie Pie Supper because it’s what I would make for myself when he was out; the kids heard him refer to the meal that way once and, well, the name has stuck. It takes more preparation than some dinners, but it’s mostly just chopping, and you can do a bit at a time, far in advance, because if some of the dishes are hot and some are lukewarm, it’s really okay. What I’m posting here is not remotely a recipe, just a list of dishes that work well together and everyone (currently) likes.

Sweetie Pie Supper

I’m not dictating amounts, here; just make as much as you think it’ll take to feed your family.

carrots

potatoes

spinach, chard or kale

sweet potatoes

lentils with carmelized onion and/or white beans with tomato sauce

you will also need olive oil, salt and pepper, garlic, lemon juice, milk, butter, and a spoonful of brown sugar

cranberry sauce and gravy are nice additions if you have them

For the carrots:
Traditionally, I roasted them, but lately Ben is in charge of carrots so we make the Carrot Pennies recipe from Mollie Katzen’s cookbook for kids, Pretend Soup. You slice the carrots into pennies and steam them until they’re almost tender. Then melt a tablespoon of butter in a frying pan over medium heat, add a little brown sugar and a healthy squeeze of lemon juice. Add the carrots and stir until they’re nicely coated. The recipe calls for a sprinkling of sesame seeds, but Ben typically omits those.

For the potatoes:

A dear friend, years ago, told me she’d had such a hard time making mashed potatoes for her husband —  it hadn’t occurred to her to cook the potatoes before mashing. So with her in mind, I offer the order of things: Scrub, chop, and bring the potatoes to a boil in a pot of water, cook until tender, drain and then mash with milk and butter, salt and pepper.

For the sweet potatoes:
Peel, slice, toss with a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper, and roast at about 425, stirring a couple times, until tender and caramelized around the edges.

For the greens:

Rinse well, remove any tough stems, and steam until tender. Drain, and then really squeeze out any excess water. Now chop the greens and saute them for a minute with some garlic and olive oil; add a squeeze of lemon juice at the end. Sprinkle toasted pine nuts and raisins on top if you’re feeling fancy. Expect that one of your children will pick the nuts and raisins out to eat, while the other one will pick them off and leave them on the side of the plate.

For the lentils and onion:

Slice the onion and saute it in a bit of butter or olive oil over low heat, stirring occasionally, until brown and caramelized. Add cooked lentils and stir. (Lentils boil quickly and don’t require any presoaking; still, the precooked ones can be pretty handy in a pinch).

For the white beans and tomato sauce:

If you’ve thought to presoak and then cook your cannelini beans, you have more foresight than I. For this dish, canned beans are perfectly acceptable; so, really, is jarred tomato sauce: combine the two and warm them up. If you happen to have homemade sauce, so much the better. A bit of rosemary  is a nice addition.

Dessert

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by Caroline

I’m surprised to find I haven’t written about dessert yet in this forum, since I have a lot to say about the subject. And despite how healthy I try to keep my family, we certainly don’t avoid dessert. We’re just as likely to make an afternoon project of making cookies as making paintings, and if we have a bowl of apples, I’m just as likely to bake them into a crisp than to slice them up to feed the kids.

Today, after a late-afternoon romp in Golden Gate Park with frisbee and soccer ball, we walked up to one of our favorite local restaurants, a casual place where they bring the kids mason jars full of crayons and the silverware waits for use in repurposed cans of Hershey’s chocolate syrup. We eat there often (despite some memorably bad evenings there, no fault of the restaurant). After a simple supper (a roasted artichoke to share, pasta of various sorts all around, a nice salad of roasted beets, arugula, endive and manchego), Tony slipped in a quiet dessert order. The ginger cake here is so good we don’t even order the excellent chocolate cake anymore, which might be all you need to know about it. The cake is spicy and moist, a little crispy round the edges, and sits next to a generous scoop of homemade pumpkin ice cream, all surrounded by a pool of rich dark caramel sauce. It might be my favorite restaurant dessert in a city that’s rich in excellent desserts.

Tonight when the waiter put the dessert down, the boys fell on it. Eli practically snarled at me when I used my spoon to force his back down onto the plate and reduce his giant bite by half. Ben, with longer arms, snuck in for bites from the side while Eli stood up to get better access. “Eli!” I cried, appalled at his manners; “Do you even know what the cake tastes like?” He didn’t even pause to answer; didn’t, in fact, even swallow, but answered by shaking his head no. When it was gone, he took a deep breath and sat back, satisfied.

The subtlety of texture and flavor was lost on him; it was sweet and good and for now that’s all he needs. But in the interest of refining his palate, we’ll keep ordering this cake. In fact,  I think next time we’ll order two.

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