Happy Foods

Comfort Food gets all the attention. The creamy, cheesy, starchy, and heavy food that we seek when it's cold, when life is hard, when we need a bit of love and a set of arms to hug us isn't around. There comes a point when comfort food isn't enough or it's become too much. That's when we have to pull out the Happy Food.

Happy Food is the food that we love to grow, pick, cook, and eat. It gives us pleasure in thought, touch, smell, and taste. When you think of Happy Food you can't help but smile. In a way it is comforting, but instead of hiding in relief it bursts through you with peace or joy.

It might seem that Happy Food is seasonal. The snow finally melts, green things poke up from the ground, calves are suckling on the ranches. So we start thinking of the ease of warm weather and the fresh food that comes with it. We dream about sun-warmed tomatoes and fresh asparagus. The stews, baked pasta, and spices of winter kept us warm but they need to be put away for at least a few months.

I would argue that we need to find the Happy Food regardless of the time of year. Feed yourself to nurture the joy in your soul, not the pain. Feed yourself the food that fills you with pleasure long before one taste reaches your mouth. Feed yourself happy.

These are the things that feed me happy.

Tomatoes, warm from the bush, salted on toast with aioli, or slow, slow roasted and eaten like candy.

A good burger, preferably my husband's, or a thick, medium-rare steak.

Raspberries picked from the bush, and hopefully made into gecko fingers, and eaten one at a time.

Fresh peaches.

Ice Cream, of pretty much any flavour like Mint Chocolate Chip, Salted Caramel, or Strawberry.

Carrots thick with the flavour of the stock they flavoured in a long, slow simmer.

Poached eggs, peppered and placed on hash, last night's veggies, or sauteed greens with feta.

Maple syrup.

Brussels Sprouts. Roasted is the best way, but I'll take them any way I can get.

Pink Grapefruit, eaten in sections on cold, cold winter days. Best with company.

What about you? What are your happy foods?

Hot Dish at the Table

Ever had a Hot Dish?

You might know it better by its other name, a casserole. In honour of my week in Wisconsin, via Minnesota, I made Hot Dish for dinner. Specifically, Beef with Wild Rice, Almonds, and Roasted Tomatoes.

Hot Dish is basically any one dish meal that can be prepared in advance, even frozen. Rice or pasta with a bit of veg and often a lot of meat and some sort of sauce bringing it all together. Common at the potluck table, the neighbours kitchen counter after a rough week, or for Sunday dinner.

Not exactly a fancy Sunday dinner, I realize. My flight got in at midnight last night and I needed to spend the day in precious snow play and cuddles instead of cooking. Oh, and actually reading a book during to naptime to take advantage of the quiet of broken cable. Dinner needed to come without a trip to the grocery store and contain real food for the. girls. Too many cookies and treats over the weekend.

I bought this cookbook in the airport. Totally cheesy, I know. Once you siphon out the recipes that include a can of condensed mushroom soup and past Tuna Broccoli Brie Hot Dish, there are some nice dinner ideas. Perfect for days when you want to read The Cat in the Hat again and again instead of making a roast with popovers. Also perfect for make ahead recipes for the days you want to pass on a meal for comfort. I'll be making a few more from the book this week for friends.

Dessert also came from the book. Conveniently called Busy Day Cherry Cobbler. Conveniently made with my own cherry pie filling in the pantry.

My time away from the family was very busy. My friend, my host, has a great family and they were incredibly welcoming. We did not have Hot Dish, but I learn how to make tortillas and had my fill of Wisconsin Smoked Cheddar.

In truth, I desperately missed my family. All the chaotic energy and even the spazzing, but it's all my spazzing. Dinner tonight was perfect. The Monster chatted far too much about her first trip to an amusement park to be interested in food. Smilosaurus was copying her sister but spooning in the food with sincere pleasure. Hubby and I rubbed our eyes for the tiredness, tried to talk, and could only smile. It was all mine. It was our perfect Sunday dinner.

Hot Dish with Beef, Wild Rice, Roasted Tomatoes, and Almonds

Serves 4-6

1 pound ground beef

1 medium onion

4 celery stocks

1 tbsp olive oil

4 cloves garlic

1 orange

1/2 cup brown rice

1/2 cup wild rice

2 tbsp fresh thyme

3 cups chicken stock

1 dozen roasted tomatoes*

1 cup almonds or pine nuts

1. In an oven proof casserole or large pan brown the ground beef. While the beef is browning chop the onions, celery, and garlic. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.

2. As soon as the beef is browned, drain off any fat and push the meat to the side of the pan. Add the olive oil, onion, and celery. Cook over medium heat until light browned and soft. Add the garlic and saute for 1 minute.

3. Juice the orange and add the juice to the pan to deglaze.

4. Stir in the rices, thyme, and stock into the pan. Season with salt and pepper. Pour into a casserole dish, if necessary. Top with tomatoes and sprinkle the almonds over.

5. Bake for 1 hour.

*If you don't have slow roasted tomatoes on hand you could use a 14 ounce can of diced tomatoes. Cut the stock used to 2 cups and add the tomatoes, juice and all.

Kind of Numb

For the first time in 7 years we watched the Oscars.

When we last watched this gratuitous display of celebrity, film, and fashion it was shortly after my Father-in-Law died. A few days after our frantic drives through winter streets to rescue, to say goodbye some of the family gathered for dinner. We went for Indian food and came home to the TV staring at us in its temporary living room home of my in-law's home. Without thinking we sat and stared, numb at the pompous and posh party in front of us.

It kind of felt that way tonight too. If you can subtract the chaos of little girls who literally demand you watch them jump on the couch and pretend you need to be rescued.

After a weekend in Edmonton, learning the secrets of my Dad's famous salsa and coming together with family, we arrived home exhausted. Frankly, I'm so drained right now that the emotions boiling through me seem to cancel each other out and that numbness wins.

That means leftovers and the Oscars are what won tonight.

A steak never eaten because we were too tired turns into beef stroganoff. Comfort food in this family. Carrots steamed and glazed with honey and balsamic vinegar. Salad made from anything green in the fridge. A perfectly ripe winter pear next to some okay 1. 2. 3. bite brownies from Wild Earth.

Now, a beer, laundry, and packing. There is no time to process, to celebrate, to cry. I'm off again tomorrow. Leaving the girls and my man for the first time in forever when all I want to do is gather them all around me for snuggles and debates about whether there ever was such a thing as a carnitore. So tonight we gathered at the table and tried to selvage a moment that gave us all comfort, albeit brief, the ritual of dinner together.

Less Talking More Eating

It's been months since I ate a cold meal.

Parents often say that they miss hot meals once they start having family dinners. Too much time spent cutting, feeding, cleaning, and cajoling and not enough time enjoying their own food. In our house we have the opposite problem. Hubby and I finish our meals before our children have even started eating and it's getting damn frustrating.

We always eat together. I dish up the same food for everyone, a little of this and a little of that. Everything must be tried, but not necessarily eaten if you don't like it. A glass of milk on the side and maybe, just maybe, a treat or some fruit after dinner. The girls, like most kids, don't like hot foods. I serve them first and we cut it all up, as necessary, as Hubby and I serve ourselves. Then we all sit down and should be able to enjoy a pleasant meal.

Should.

Meals are anything but pleasant these days. Hubby and I will chit chat while we eat, with the girls coming in every now and then to tell us to only talk one at a time or "less talking more eating!" By no means are we inhaling our food, but almost every night we'll be half done before the girls have taken a single bite - if we're lucky.

That picture up there? Our lovely bison stew (a family favourite, made this way) and some olive oil bread (courtesy of Martha Stewart). I snapped that of The Monster's meal when I was already half done mine.

Dinner tonight took 45 minutes! I'm all for leisurely meals, lingering over wine and great conversation. Or even milk and knock knock jokes. I am not, however, down with reminding my children to actually take a forkful of their food and watching them chew everything 50 times, every single bite. Every single bite. Or repeat that there that there is no singing at the table and they are the ones that need "less talking, more eating." (Oh, how my parents are laughing now.)

It isn't even a battle about whether they like it or not. It's the same regardless of what we eat, but definitely worse if it is something they are iffy about.

By the time the girls finally finished tonight and I offered up some grapefruit and vanilla bean panna cotta they, and we, were done.

What would you do when faced with this?