Seven Tips for Dining Out as a Family

The first meal out for our family after having a baby was sushi. Our newborn slept in her car seat and I gorged on the fish that had been banned from my diet during pregnancy. It was bliss for everyone. Our last venture to that same sushi bar (last month) was a bit more raucous, with the girls not so quiet now. But they sat at the bar, ordered their favourite sashimi, and flirted with the host who gave them candy.

We can't imagine our lives without the opportunity to take the kids out for dinner. If we didn't take them we might not go ourselves with limited babysitting in town! But if you want to take your kids to a restaurant, whether it involves a giant golden M or serves fois gras, there are some basic guidelines. These are guidelines for parents, not rules for kids.

1. Start at Home

If you want your kid to sit at the table, eat, and not run around and scream at a restaurant table then you need to expect that behaviour at home as well. I know many a parent who struggles to keep their kids at the table, regardless of where they are sitting. While I can't provide any tips for getting them to stay in their seat - other than expecting the behaviour and enforcing it - if your kid can't sit at the table for 20 minutes then a sit down restaurant isn't going to be a successful venture for you.

2. Revise Your Dinner Expectations

When you take your kids out to dinner with you then your experience will not be that same as dinner out with your partner. There is no lingering over dessert, conversations are not usually about politics or money, and you will likely eat pretty fast. Dinner out with the family isn't romantic, but it can be fun. Keep your expectations in check, as well as your timing.

3. It's all in the Timing

Knowing when your kids need to eat and when they'll crash is important if you choose to eat out. Don't arrive at the restaurant at 6 if they are used to dinner on the table at that time. Be prepared to order an appetizer or the entire meal when they come by to take a drink order. And ask for the check right after your meal is served in case you need to make a speedy exit.

4. Choose Wisely

There is no need to limit your family meals out to fast food or even chain restaurants. Steakhouses, greasy spoons, and yes, fine dining are all acceptable. Do not take your kids to the best place in town if all they've ever eat are chicken fingers, you need to work up to that. Consider going to a nicer restaurant on a weekday, not on typical date nights on the weekend. Preview menus on-line or with a drive by to ensure there is something your kids will likely enjoy. Try brunch instead of dinner, it's faster, more likely to have preferred options, and is a more casual environment - even in a fancier restaurant.

5. The Art of Conversation

I'm not a fan of bringing toys and such to the restaurant, but I can see the benefit for other families. A run of the mill restaurant will sometimes provide the menu that can be coloured, or you could bring your own colouring book. Books, a small doll, a random car, or even an electronic device might also be effective in occupying your kids while you wait for food. It should go away when the food arrives though. We take the time in a restaurant to have a conversation - as effective as that is with a 3 and 5 year old. I also don't want to set the precedent that toys are commonplace when you go out for dinner. Each family will have to decide what is appropriate.

6. Lose the Kids Menu

Even the fanciest of restaurants sometimes have a kids menu. Ignore it. It may be fine dining, but they are often dumbing down the food in addition to smaller portion sizes. Instead, look to the appetizer or soup/salad portion of the menu. Alternatively, you can order one main course and split it among two or three children. Do not relegate your kids to a diet of chicken fingers or grilled cheese sandwiches. Or at least, save those for the nights you stay home when you don't feel like cooking.

7. Be Prepared to Leave

Yup, be prepared to get up and walk out without dinner. If your kids are misbehaving, whining, or generally being bad or disruptive, be prepared to leave without eating. Aside from showing restauranteurs and other patrons that you have control over the situation, you are also showing your kids that certain behaviour is not tolerated. Whether you let them eat dinner at home after that is another matter. (I would not, but that's me.) If you want your restaurant experience to be successful and repeated, then you need to set the precedent.

On the recent debate on Q, with Jian Gomeshi, Emma Waverman, and Simon Majumdar, the host and guests talked about a ban on kids in restaurants. While I squarely believe in the comments made by Waverman, it was this quote from Majumdar that sums it up. Restaurants want to ban kids, primarily because of crying and bad behaviour, and that "Boils down to wretched parenting."

If you want to take your kids out of the house - and we all need to at times - then you need to step up to the plate, plan ahead, and be clear on your behavioural expectations with them. A restaurant isn't always a break at dinnertime, don't treat it that way unless the kids are at home with the babysitter. Dinner out with the family is an opportunity for exploration, conversation, and treats.

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.

Chocolate Cake for Friends and Neighbours

Do you know your neighbours?

Will they shovel your walk? Will you shovel theirs? Have you had backyard happy hour together? Built a really nice fence? Even chatted with them?

We've got some really fantastic neighbours (and one not so nice one). Once they got past the fact that we indeed were a couple old enough to own a house and not siblings living with our parents we've got along great. They babysit the girls, we watch each other's pets, and generally look out for each other. It is because of our neighbours, in large part, that we are renovating instead of moving.

So when we came home with a new washer and dryer today Poppa came over to help us get it into the house. No, we didn't make him do the heavy lifting! As I was already making dinner we invited them to join us. Besides, how much ham can two adults and the girls eat?

We pigged out, literally, on Spragg Meats ham, sauteed kale, and lentils with roasted squash and caramelized onions. I was going to be all healthy and serve a citrus salad for dessert, but it seemed more special to make a cake. Our neighbours definitely deserved cake.

This recipe was created for the latest issue of What's Up Families. I wrote a feature article on gluten free cooking. It was a great challenge for me. And a great opportunity to interview Lauren over at Celiac Teen and her family for the article. Very inspiring to see her family together and her love for baking. While Lauren isn't quite close enough to be my neighbour (but luckily still close), I would happily share this cake with her. (Check out the issue for more GF recipes.)

Hazelnut Flourless Chocolate Cake

1/2 cup plus 1 tsp cocoa

4 ounces chocolate

1/2 cup butter

3 eggs, separated

3/4 cup sugar

1 tsp vanilla

1/2 cup roasted hazelnuts, finely crushed

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Butter an 8'' round cake pan. Cut a piece of parchment paper to line the bottom, place inside the buttered pan, and butter that too. Use the 1 tsp of cocoa to dust the parchment lines pan.

2. Chop the chocolate and melt with the butter in a bowl set atop of a pot of simmering water. Once melted remove from heat and let cool for 5 minutes.

3. While the chocolate is cooling whip the egg whites with an electric mixer until soft peaks form. Add in 1/4 cup sugar and beat until glossy and stiff peaks form.

4. Add the egg yolks, 1/2 cup sugar, and vanilla to the melted chocolate. Stir well. Add the hazelnuts. Fold in 1/3 of the egg whites into the chocolate mixture to lighten the batter. Carefully fold in the remaining whites. Stop as soon as you don't see white. Pour into prepared pan.

5. Bake for 30 minutes. Cool in pan for 10 minutes, then remove from pan. Best served warm.

Friction and Brisket

As I've told you before our dinner conversation is quite often nothing by Daddy and I constantly reminded the girls to stop singing/talking/playing with the forks and start eating. Tonight, however, was different.

The Monster started skiing lessons this morning. We were a bit worried because she has a tendency to be uber frustrated when she can't do something perfectly the first time she tries. Skiing is apparently another story. She loves it so much it wore out her entire body, as she told us.

Dinner conversation tonight was minimal until she'd scarfed down her brisket, broccoli, and last minute request of beets and blood oranges. (Yes, dinner was brought to us by the Letter B.) While we waited for her sister to finish the conversation turned to friction. Some days it's fart jokes, some days it is University level physics.

Hubby and The Monster are discussing friction and how it allows for movement. He launches into a lesson on the difference between static and dynamic friction. And she totally gets it. Scary. At the end of dinner she starts pulling on his arm and this conversation happens:

Hubby: You can't pull me because I have a higher coefficient of static friction.

The Monster: Oh yeah? Well I have superhero friction.

Hubby: What's that?

The Monster: Superhero friction lets me push off and fly.

That's when I served the brownies.

Slow Cooked Maple Cider Brisket

This recipe is adapted from the Edible cookbook. The meat itself was a gorgeous cut from Hoven Farms, but not quite as big as the recipe called for, so I played with it a bit. To be honest, I've never cooked a brisket before. I will be adding it to the regular repertoire from now on. Fantastic! Fork tender, with this almost sweet and sour sauce, this brisket was perfect for this cold, snowy day and a table full of hungry bellies. It served all of us and there is enough left for another family dinner.

1 large red onion

1 tbsp bacon drippings

5 cloves garlic

2 1/2 pound beef brisket

1 tbsp kosher salt

1 tsp dried oregano

1/2 tsp fresh ground black pepper

1/4 tsp chili powder

1 tbsp tomato sauce

1 cup strong brewed tea (original recipe called for coffee, but I had none)

1/2 cup apple cider vinegar

1/2 cup maple syrup

1/4 water or chicken broth

1 tbsp dijon mustard

1. Slice the onion in half then cut into crosswise strips. Heat the bacon drippings in an oven proof pan with a tight fitting lid. Cook the onion for 5-6 minutes until soft and lightly golden.

2. While the onions are cooking, finely chop 3 cloves of garlic and thinly slice the remaining two cloves. With a sharp knife cut slits all over the brisket. Poke the garlic slices into the slits. Set the brisket aside for the time being.

3. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

4. When the onions are soft and golden stir in the garlic, salt, oregano, pepper, and chili powder. Cook for 1 minutes. Add the tomato sauce, tea/coffee, vinegar, maple syrup, water/stock, and mustard. Bring to a boil.

5. Place the brisket in the sauce, cover with the lid of the pan and place in the oven. Braise for 30 minutes. Reduce the heat to 300 degrees F and continue for braise for 3-4 hours.

6. Let the meat rest 15-30 minutes before slicing. Serve with sauce.

Rhythm and Apple Pie

It felt good to be back in the kitchen today. An afternoon of crust making, apple peeling, chicken roasting, orange peeling, and even doing the dishes. I honestly can't remember the last time I did that - prepared a proper Sunday dinner.

Today Smilosaurus was very helpful. I'm going to milk that. Her sister was the same way, until she turned 3. Now she isn't as interested in the kitchen. Like all moms, I'm clinging to the adoration of my children while I have it. She helped me rub the freshly roasted hazelnuts in a clean towel, she worked the food processor, tossed the fennel and apples, and stood transfixed as I peeled a blood orange.

Even on the days when I just-want-to-get dinner-on-the-table I'm always happy for her help. Well, except when she decides she needs to salt things. We're used to each other and have already developed our own rhythm. And she's two and a half!

Then today I tried a new recipe - Apple Pie with Chinese Five Spice Powder and Hazelnut Crumb Topping. It was just apple pie, but it wasn't the way I normally make apple pie. It seemed to take forever! A different crust, precooking the filling, and orange juice in the crumble topping?! My rhythm was off, way off. The only part that felt right, felt normal was peeling the apples.

So, it took a little longer. So what? It was damn good apple pie! The 5-spice powder was intoxicating, beyond anything cinnamon every aspires to be. While the crust was mediocre (oh, how I wish I'd stuck with my own pate brisee), the crumble topping was insane. I doubted the orange juice, but that made it sing. No taste of orange, but a heightened hazelnut brightness.

As I followed the recipe to a T, check it out here, from The Nourish Network. Kind of appropriate too, seeing as it was National Pie Day in the US. It fits in with Lauren's Go Ahead Honey series too.

We ate our roast chicken and potatoes, apple and fennel slaw with sunflower seeds, and roasted chiogga beets with oranges, blood oranges, and goat cheese. Before pie The Monster and Hubby went skating. Spazzing was kept to a minimum and she was rewarded with two slices of pie. Okay, maybe I was rewarded too...

Best Laid Plans

Definitely a night I was happy we keep a well stocked freezer.

The Monster's been fighting something for a few days. When she woke up from her nap she looked like she'd been through a few rounds with GSP. Her eye was not looking good. After we spoke with a doctor Hubby took her to the Children's Hospital.

This all happens at 5:30. Did I mention I have a project due tomorrow that is the biggest of my new professional career?

So Daddy and The Monster ate hospital sandwiches, and a banana when they arrived home to soak up the antibiotics. Smilosaurus and I dug some meatballs out of the freezer. Definitely also a night where I was happy for leftover party cupcakes from Crave.

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?

Sunday Mornings

It's time to say goodbye.

This week marks the last week of operation for the Calgary Farmers' Market at the Currie Barracks. In February they are scheduled to open in their new location. In the meantime, you can definitely visit the Kingsland Market.

We moved to Calgary seven and a half years ago. As we struggled with the adjustment to a new city while obligations kept us going back to Edmonton the Calgary Farmers' Market opened. We'd been so used to buying all our groceries at the Old Strathcona Market at home. We had our Saturday routine of quiet morning, the market, brunch, a dog walk, and some lazy time. It was awesome.

In Calgary, however, we really struggled to establish any sort of weekend routine aside from ordering pizza on Friday, drinking too much beer, and watching a hell of a lot of home improvement TV. We tried the Crossroads Market. It's good, but it never felt like the right fit for us. It was winter, so the outside market at Hillhurst Sunnyside wasn't an option (but traffic makes it difficult as it is).

Then the Calgary Farmers' Market opened. I'm pretty sure we went there on one of the first weekends. It was close, we met some great folks, and the food was great. We've been going pretty much every weekend since.

At first we were in and out, food in hand, rather quickly. Say hello to our favourite vendors, buy some groceries, and back home for more home improvement TV. Then we had kids. One of my first outings after a C-section was to the market. Even with The Monster as a baby we went and now lingered. Once the bouncy castle was a non-lethal option for her we stayed, played, ate, and then shopped. Coffee and tea in hand, of course.

In time, we've not only got to know the producers we buy from and their staff, but the food vendors who sell us our lunch, the balloon man, market staff, and an infinite number of other market goers. Vendors and staff ask about my knees and exclaim over the growth of the girls. When Smilosaurus/Death Wish decides to wander off people know who she is and stop her. This place is our Sunday morning home.

Just today we sat with our odd combination of waffles, pakoras, blintz, chai, and coffee, chatting with our table mates. (I'm not sure we've ever sat by ourselves for lunch.) The couple we sat with looked like they could have been models for Mr. and Mrs. Claus. We spent 45 minutes eating and chatting about organic farming and the history of large agriculture, in between cutting waffles and cuddles. Last week we chatted with two other folks about gifted and geeky kids. It didn't matter who or what, we've always had a friendly time there.

There are so many market options in the city now, fantastic options. Each one will have their benefits and downsides. Like us, those factors will change for you depending on your life circumstances. If it wasn't for our CSA membership we never would have ventured to Hillhurst-Sunnyside, for example, because the traffic is brutal from our end of town. But it is a great market. We haven't been to them all and I'm certainly willing to check them out. You should too.

I'll admit, I'm a bit worried that the new location will be too slick, too mall like. I'm more than willing to give it a good Sunday morning chance. Many of our favourite vendors will be there and I don't want to lose their food or our relationship. The girls are going to be without a bouncy castle for months, I hope they survive!

(As for dinner tonight, do wings and a beer count? Hubby and I had hot parent date of Christmas shopping with the girls after our trip to the market. We celebrated starting and finishing in a matter of hours with a trip to the bar.)

I Tried

You win some, you lose some.

Today I lost the dinner battle. The girls didn't want to eat due to our own parental mistake of a late snack. We sent The Monster to her room for having a snippy attitude. (She now says "Double" instead of "Oh Man" when she's extra frustrated because that is short for "Oh Man, doubled.") Frankly, dinner wasn't all that great either.

It was supposed to be good. It was a meal that was going to make my preggo sister-in-law jealous when she logged in from the office tomorrow. Sticky, slightly spicy ribs, roasted potatoes, and coleslaw with orange and pomegranates. For dessert, gingerbread cake, her mom's recipe.

The ribs were tough. I cook them about once every few years, so that is totally my fault in assuming I knew what the hell I was doing. The sauce was great, a combo of the tomatoes and onions roasted with the ribs, tomato marmalade, molasses, sambal olek, and mustard. We would have been better off licking the sauce from the ribs than trying to, literally, pretend we were lions to get the girls to eat. Thankfully the coleslaw was tasty and I've got roasted potatoes down pat. The gingerbread cake tasted pretty good too, although, it fell.

No good pictures of our meal, no great leftovers. When I eat some gingerbread cake with my tea and a Bosc pear tomorrow morning it should be right around the time my sister-in-law arrives at work and starts her day. Know that I was thinking of you.

It's the thought that counts.

Class

I promise you that I cooked. Aside from our regular Sunday jaunt to the market, I actually cooked nearly all day. Unfortunately, I can't share it with you.

Everything I made today was for one article or another. None of which are due to come out until the New Year at the earliest. That means I can only tell you that I made apple kugel, butterscotch pudding, blackeyed peas, cardamom cookies, potstickers, and something called sabzi polo. I can't share a recipe or a photo. I'm sorry. If it helps, we ate this very eclectic meal for dinner and we are very, very full.

This is one of the advantages and disadvantages of the food writing gig. Sure, dinner gets made out of your work. That means your groceries are, in part, paid for. But after a day of cooking you are left with this really odd meal that you are too full to eat anyway.

Full confession: I totally sat and read a book with a beer in my hand when the light went and my mother-in-law arrived for a visit. Thanks, Susan, for playing hide and seek with the dinosaurs while I did nothing.

Don't get me wrong. I am not complaining about this new life I've chosen. I am getting more writing gigs. Being on my own with Hubby away as much as he's been is much more manageable now... sort of. And, no offense to my old colleagues, I don't miss the desk job at all. If anything, the hard part is giving everything the attention it needs. That includes the girls.

Truly, though, is there a mother in the world who thinks she spends enough time with her kids? Okay, quality time actually paying attention to them and doing nurturing activities?

If you are one of those mothers then I'm probably not the writer for you. Smilosaurus is losing her voice with a never ending cold and the realization that she might not be able to talk tomorrow made me very happy. Ridiculously happy.

So the kids watch a bit too much PBS Kids when I have a deadline. I'm not losing sleep over it. I feed them, and I feed them well. Tonight was a perfect example of that. Of course, with all that food I made all they wanted to eat was the spinach salad I served on the side.

Then Hubby still needed a snack. "There is nothing that goes better with kubasa than beer." We are a classy bunch.

Feeling Green

Can you tell what team we were cheering for?

Dinner tonight was in front of the TV. I know, not exactly a proper Sunday dinner. It was the Grey Cup, though, and that means a more than slight bending of the rules. (For my US and International readers, the Grey Cup is the big finale game of the Canadian Football League.) Dinner tonight was also at my parents' house. Seeing as they are from Saskatchewan, there was some green in the dinner.

We gathered, with the girls and my nephew running circles around us, in front of the TV. There was a pile of food. Mostly frozen puff pastry treats from President's Choice (not bad, all things considered). There was my Dad's salsa. There always has to be Dad's salsa when we get together. Then the spice continued with a giant vat of chili. A few beers too. Just a few, I was driving.

Saskatchewan lost. Seeing as I'm indifferent to football it didn't bother me. I was too busy remembering our Grey Cups as kids. Back then all available surfaces would be covered with Grey Cup tickets, a sort of lottery ticket. There would be score predictions on each one. It was my job to keep an eye on the tickets and remove those no longer eligible when a touchdown was scored. I kind of missed those tickets tonight. Instead, I kept myself busy with chatting, keeping the girls from driving my father nuts, and eating.

It's been an odd sort of weekend. I don't feel as bad as the Saskatchewan QB, but I'm not ready to put on my party hat. Instead, I want to just eat more salsa and drink more beer. I'm settled for the night, no more driving. I think that's just what I'll do.

Gravy

It was the perfect Sunday dinner, minus the tantrums before hand. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, brussels sprouts and carrots. There was even chocolate cake for dessert. There was no gravy.

Half hour before we were to sit down Hubby informs me that he isn't feeling well. That perhaps it is now his turn with the tummy bug making its way through our house. Sigh. It was at that point that I nixed the gravy. Actually, I might have told the gravy to go do something else.

As I realized last week, Hubby really is my audience. The girls could have cared less about a big roast beef dinner. In fact, they only wanted the chocolate cake. But I made them sit with me while Hubby moaned in front of the hockey game. Only one of them ate anything, both spent the entire meal screaming or singing, and I fought tears of frustration over my now cold roast beef. There may have been a tantrum or two as well.

The frustration got to me. One was sent to her room, the other to a quiet spot by the front door. I spent 20 minutes cleaning up after dinner saying, "No, you may not come out yet." Bring on the therapist's bill if it turns out they are gay and I control their honesty by my need to do the dishes in peace.

Honestly folks? I'm just cracking. Too much stress, too much work, too much single parenting, too much whining (on everyone's part). I think it's time to regroup. Anyone have a Mexican vacation they want to give me? A cabin in the woods with a personal chef/masseuse? No? I guess I'll settle for a hot bath, a good scotch, and a trashy book.

It was a good meal. It really was. Maybe, just sometimes, I should give in an let them eat the damn cake and we'd all be happier.

For an Audience

Love stories are as varied as the people that make them. We didn't have farts at our engagement, but there was a fair amount of bird poop. Hubby proposed on an outcropping of rocks on the Ingonish beach. What's a few dead crab shells and a pound of poop to commitment?

I've spent the last few days devouring Gluten Free Girl and The Chef. More than a cookbook, it reads like a romance novel, minus the bad hair, pecs, and euphemisms. The subtitle does refer to the love story, and it is. A love story between two people, a love story of food and cooking. It is captivating, very funny, and full of the romance we all need in life. Even if you don't cook you want to read this book. Ask my girls, they've been flipping the page exclaiming YUMMY! at every turn.

Hubby has been home for 2 days now. That's 2 days of not working, a first for the last 6 weeks. This means he's exhausted and cranky. I'm bursting with the desire to talk about home renos, preschool gossip, and bedtime routines. Oh, and trying not to run screaming from the house to take a break. What we are doing is retreating, sleeping, and trying to find a little bit of rhythm again. Until he leaves again in another day.

One thing I've realized that with cooking for just me and the girls is that I really, really like cooking for my husband. He's an eater, not a cook. He's my audience.

When I can fill his belly with a warm meal that he didn't have to get from a crappy, small town restaurant I feel great. It isn't about being a good wife, I've already got that down. Food is love and I am totally guilty of showing my love with food.

Inspired by Shauna James Ahern and Daniel Ahern I decided to spend the weekend in the kitchen. Bolognese and cookies yesterday. Sunday, a Braised Pork Stew with Cabbage and Caraway from the book. I followed the recipe exactly this time - not something I do often - thus I'm not comfortable sharing it here. We were all filled with love, or just some lovely herbal, mustardy, and nourishing comfort.

If you want the fart reference and the recipe, then you best buy the book.

Iron Will

He would have loved it.

Steak sandwiches with carmelized onions and radishes. Served on fig and fennel bread from The Bakery at the Market. The last of our CSA beets, roasted and tossed with white balsamic vinegar. Spinach salad with pomegranates.

Hubby is away again. Was he ever home? We all miss him terribly He misses us. Everyone is exhausted and cranky. We have to think big picture for this short term sacrifice of our normal family life. Dammit, it's hard. I was very tempted to serve popcorn for dinner again but steaks that I took out a few days ago needed to be cooked. And I thought we girls needed to sit down to a proper meal. Away from the TV, the computer, and a million library books.

So we sat together over some red meat and songs. And we talked about Daddy.

Go! And Stop

"Can I have some candy? I don't care, I'm going to pull down your underwear!"

"Trick or Treat. Smell my feet. Give me something good to eat. Not too big, not too small. Just the size of Montreal!"

These and the the screams of More Candy! More Candy! are echoing in my ear. The girls are off, speeding through the neighbourhod as fast as their costumes and legs will let them, trick-or-treating their hearts out. It may seem a little young at 2 and 4 to let them go. If you've got a problem with that, keep it to yourself.

Besides, who do you think gets all the candy?

Before I sent them out they were fed with a proper dinner. I'd love to say it was quick but, despite their impatience they still spent a half hour chatting and practicing their Halloween chants. This wasn't the night for a huge Sunday dinner. Roast, potatoes, and cake for dessert? Not going to hold the attention of my girls. Or frankly me, after a 10 day stint on single parenting.

Instead, I pulled out a weekday favourite: calzones. With a puffy, light dough that comes together quickly I can make dinner in about 20 minutes of active effort. It only needs an hour to rise and about 10 minutes to bake. The hardest part is waiting for them to cool so you don't burn your tongue on the fillings.

The recipe was developed for an article on after-school snacks for What's Up Families. Since then it's become our go-to pizza crust recipe in addition to the calzones. For pizza, stretch out the dough, top with sauce, tomato marmalade, garlic oil, or pesto and all your favourite toppings.

Calzones

Makes 8 hearty calzones

Dough

Fillings

Tomato Sauce

Shredded Mozzarella Cheese

Toppings - peppers, ham, mushrooms, artichoke hearts, fresh tomatoes, onions, olives, pepperoni

1 egg, beaten

1. Preheat oven to 500 degrees F. One section at a time roll into a rectangle about 8 inches by 6 inches. Cut in half at the 4 inch mark.

2. Top each half with a tablespoon of tomato sauce, leaving a half inch without sauce around all the edges. Add a half cup of shredded cheese and toppings of choice.

3. Fold each calzone in half, pinching and rolling over the edges to seal. Brush each calzone with the beaten egg.

4. Bake for 10 minutes. Let cool completely before eating as fillings will be very, very hot.

More Pyrohy

Pyrohy, I've decided, are a perfect Sunday dinner. The main reason for this is because Sunday morning many of us think to make bacon. Then we are too lazy to do the dishes before the birthday parties and errands so that pan with bacon grease is still sitting on the stove when the pyrohy are ready. And that pan is begging to be reheated and filled with just-boiled pyrohy for dinner. Yeah, Sunday.

Of course, I had to make the pyrohy first. Thankfully today I had company and a really well-timed nap from the girls. Andree and Gwendolyn came over for a little, old fashioned pyrohy bee. Well, really, I got the games started by making the dough then put them to work making pyrohy. And they were stellar for their first time ever!

We stuck with traditional fillings of mashed potato with cheese and bacon, plain mashed potato, and sauerkraut. Potatoes from our CSA and sauerkraut courtesy of my parent's suburban kitchen. I prepped it all this morning. And taking a cue from the lady's at my parent's church - home of a ridiculously large bimonthly pyrohy supper - we scooped and rolled our mashed potatoes ahead of time. Makes for faster and easier folding of the pyrohy.

(See the play by play here.)

Andree said that my babbling and instructions was like watching a cooking show. Minus the couch and red wine! I was a little chatty with pyrohy stories, who knew I had so much to say? Of course, that may have more to due with being surrounded by the kids for weeks now with little adult company than my extensive knowledge of pyrohy.

Did I mention the single parenting? That would also be why I needed pyrohy for dinner, with kale on the side, roasted carrots, kubasa, and the cookies both Gwendolyn and Andree brought us (chocolate chip with bacon and shortbread). And now I shall sit on the couch and drink my wine, with or without a cooking show.

Thanksgiving

I am thankful for:

... A family who loves me even when my crazy comes out.

... Farmers who works hard.

... My new career.

... Knees that still walk for me, even if I can't ski, skate, or run anymore.

... Curious, feral daughters.

... Friends that stick with you.

... Indian Summer

... Our kids being at an age where they will disappear and leave you to have adult conversations with wine.

... Scotch and fat pants.

What about you? What are you thankful for this year?

Browned Butter Sunday

After finishing 5 articles in a week (recipe testing included) and single parenting for most of that time, frankly, I didn't care much for Sunday dinner. The fridge was full of food, the girls spent the afternoon munching on late season strawberries, cheese, and a cantaloupe, and we were all getting downright cranky.

That left only one option for dinner - popcorn.

When I told the Monster that we were having popcorn and I would find us a movie to watch she got so excited that she literally burst into song. Then, on her own volition, she start cleaning up the living room to make it ready for dinner at the coffee table. Hell, if that's what it takes I'm thinking dinner like this everyday!

Not all was lost when it comes to a good Sunday dinner though. When we returned from the market and I went to refresh the fruit bowl I had some mealy peaches and sad looking apples and pears to contend with. Then there were the ripe peaches that didn't make it home intact from the market and a few half eaten apples courtesy of the girls. The only option was to make a fruit crisp.

The girls got grains and fruit for dinner. I am not a bad mom.

While cutting up the fruit (just a pile of what we had, peels and all) I had this notion to try browning the butter to the crisp first. I guess some part of me was still able to be creative. The butter melted and crackled away on the stove. Then it occurred to me that I never really know how brown is technically browned butter. Turns out I've not been browning enough all along. So I kept it on the stove and got to the lovely browned bits.

In the end, I could have left it a bit longer, I think, but it had that rich, nutty smell and some good colour. Even though I was making crisp, I must confess that the smell only made me think of lobster. I must still have Nova Scotia on the brain.

Once the butter cooled a bit I made up my regular crisp topping. Frankly, I could have eaten it straight, and did so for a few nibbles. It was rich with a butterscotch goodness and with a slightly lighter texture from using melted butter. I am never making crisp any other way, ever again.

And I refuse to feel bad about taking the time to treat the girls and sit quietly in front of the TV. Roasts and veggies are nice and all, but Sunday is also about family. After such a hectic and trying week sitting down together, this time with snuggles, was a much better option.

Browned Butter Fruit Crisp

Filling

4 cups fruit

2 tbsp brown sugar

2 tbsp flour

1 Tonka Bean/1 tsp cinnamon

Topping

1/2 cup butter

1/2 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup flour

1 cup rolled oats

1. Chop the fruit into 1/2 inch chunks. Peeling is optional. Gently toss with flour, brown sugar, and spice. Pour into an 8 by 8 baking dish.

2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

3. In a small, stainless steel pot on medium low heat melt the butter. Then let it cook , swirling the pot every now and then, until it turns brown. As the colour starts to come to it, watch it closely. It can burn quickly.

4. Once the butter is browned nicely, pour it into your mixing bowl and let cool a few minutes. Admire the colour and dream of lobster. Then add in the brown sugar and stir. Once combined add the flour and oats.

5. Crumble on top of your prepared fruit, trying not to snitch too much along the way.

6. Bake for 30-40 minutes until the topping is crisp and more than golden and filling is bubbling.

Fiffer Feffer Feff

Dessert first.

It's just been one of those days - full of 2 year olds being 2, 35 year olds being pissy, and everyone trying their best to just get along. And stay together.

I indeed started and ended my day with a slice of apple pie. The first of the season. Talk about comfort eating. Just the way the apple peel releases from the flesh under the cut of my paring knife is enough to inspire relief in the heart. Apple pie is comfort cooking. Hmm, maybe I should be making another pie right now?

Why so much stress in my retirement and new career? Well, I've been sick (sniff) and Hubby has been pretty much gone for a week. The first few days actually felt pretty good. I thought I was handling things so well. It certainly makes a huge difference to not be gone for 10 hours a day at a job that crushed me. By now, however, I'm cranky and fuelling myself with tea all day, and a chocolate and scotch once the girls go to bed.

This weekend I thought I better buckle down and be a good mom. I tried. Hey, I only lost Death Wish once at the market today. And I did my best to take responsibility for that one, although we all know that she took off while I dealt with her spazzing sister. But today is Sunday and so rather than heat up leftovers I thought we all deserved a proper dinner.

Enter the roast chicken. Take one chicken, a giant clove of garlic, and a lemon. Heat the oven to 375 degrees. Pat the chicken dry, smash the garlic clove, and stuff the lemon and garlic in the cavity of the chicken. Salt, pepper, and a little bit of olive oil. Place in oven. Cook for an hour or hour and a half (depending on the size of chicken). Eat.

The Monster asked for potatoes and tomatoes to eat with the chicken, so I roasted some potato coins and made a salad. At least I roasted a chicken. And we sat down together, us girls, and ate our Sunday dinner while singing songs about a Fiffer Feffer Feff. And then we ate pie.