The last first of the year

This year has been a year of firsts for Josie. Many of these firsts have come at the dinner table. First high chair. First solid foods. First self-feeding. First teeth. 

To round out 2010, Josie ordered off a kids menu for the first time. Well, we ordered for her. "The little lady will have the cheese ravioli." So posh.

Normally, we'd piece together her meals out from our own plates. This time, she had a mini entree all to herself (and I have lunch for another day).
We went to Scalini's in Cobb County for her Uncle Terry's birthday. Josie was way into it. She had a captive audience. A pack of crayons. And all the garlic rolls she could get her little paws on.

Crayons are delicious. The yellow ones taste like lemon.

I doubt she understood that she was getting her own food. But she dug in and dug it. There was marinara sauce splattered here and there. Globs of ricotta cheese. It was a delicious Pollock painting. (Polack does Pollock....oh, that would have been a better blog title.)

Cheese! Ravioli!!!!!!!!

I've often worried about kid's menus. They all seem to be the same: grilled cheese, chicken fingers, burgers, fries. No wonder our society struggles with picky eaters and overweight children. While cheese ravioli isn't much of a stretch of the palate, it's a nice diversion from the fried and salted and fried offerings for tots. And while it's mostly cheese covered in cheese, there's at least a vegetable present.

Doing her best Jabba the Hutt impression

 A special shout out should go to Josie's cousin Katie, who has been a great babysitter...or baby wrangler. That's probably a better description. She so graciously sat on the other side of the hungry badger (Caution: If you sit in the front row, you will get splattered!) and entertained, taking a lot of pressure of Mommy and Daddy. I actually got to enjoy my pasta and glass of wine for longer than five minutes. So, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Cousin Katie keeps Josie in line.

And thank you, Daddy Van, for documenting the occasion. 

Weekend recipe: turkey pasta bake

Ugh. I've thought about posting this for days. But between battling the laundry monster, scheduling and then fretting about job interviews, making lists, losing lists, making new lists and chasing around a toddler...I sorta forgot. Sorry, y'all. One week soon, maybe I'll actually post a weekend recipe on the weekend.
Then again, like this turkey pasta bake...perhaps the idea gets better the next day.
I came up with this recipe as a way to repurpose leftover Christmas turkey (like leftover Thanksgiving turkey, just jollier). Really, I ended up stretching the turkey out longer. But no one complained. Not even after the third day.
In fact, it really did get better the next day. And not only did my husband, father-in-law and teenage niece like it, so did my little gobbler Josie. Then again, who doesn't like a simple, warm meal to cheer us up after the post-Christmas doldrums set in?

Turkey Pasta Bake
Time
About an hour
Ingredients and Equipment
-13-oz box whole wheat thin spaghetti
-extra virgin olive oil
-1 bunch green onions
-1 clove of garlic
-leftover turkey, pulled off the bone and shredded
-14-oz can stewed tomatoes (you can add 2 cans if you like)
-1 tablespoon Italian seasoning (dried oregano, thyme, parsley)

-salt and pepper

-1 cup whole or reduced-fat milk
-2 tablespoons flour (preferred Wondra)
-1 cup grated Parmesan cheese, plus extra in reserve
-about 1 cup grated cheddar cheese (mozzarella or any other kind would work just as well)
-pasta pot
-large sauce pan or deep-sided skillet
-baking dish (9x13 or so)
-spray oil
Directions
- Boil spaghetti noodles in a large pot with lots of salted water.
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
- Trim and finely slice green onions. Then add them to a large sauce pan or skillet with a tablespoon or so of olive oil. Saute over medium low heat.
- Mince garlic and add to pan.
- Once green onions and garlic cook down, add the turkey, stewed tomatoes, Italian seasoning and salt and pepper to taste.
- In a small bowl or liquid measuring cup, pour a cup of milk. Then dissolve the Wondra or flour in the milk before pouring the mixture into the pan with the turkey mixture.
- Add Parmesan cheese. Mix well and allow all ingredients to come to a simmer.
- Drain the pasta and add to the turkey sauce. Toss well.
- Add the pasta and sauce to a baking dish that has been lightly sprayed with oil. Then, top with shredded cheese and a sprinkling of Parmesan.
- Pop in the oven and bake until the cheese is melted and there is a golden, bubbly crust.

It's a Christmas miracle

For the last two days, Josie has had only milk. Formula at night and she's taking her milk out of bottles. But still, it's progress. We're on the road to free-wheelin' weandom.

And the winner of the $35 CSN Stores voucher is......NOODLES!
Random number generator picked 2, and that's you my dear.
I'll message you later today with the one-time promotional code that you can use at any of CSN's Web sites. Happy shopping!

Making groceries merry

I love to take Josie grocery shopping with me. She seems to like all the sights: the people, the produce, the colorful packaging, the beeping checkout scanner.
But I also think it's a good way to talk to her about food choices and prices. While she may not exactly get my end of the conversation, it's at least good practice of my spiel. And, perhaps, some of it will sink in.
Until then, I'm the crazy lady talking to my child in the grocery store about where apples come from, how many is five, why chips and soda are occasional treats and the best way to prepare mahi-mahi.
During our trips to "make groceries" as we used to say in Mississippi, I've learned some important ways to keep her happy and occupied.
1. Give her a job. OK. OK. I learned this from watching the Dog Whisperer. But it works. Usually, I hand her something (big and unbreakable) like a butternut squash or (noisy and unbreakable like) a box of couscous. It is her job to wave it around, shake it and then throw it in the cart.
This past weekend, I let her drive the buggy. She had great fun. The only hard part was keeping her from licking the steering wheel.

Look out! Student driver!

2. Sippy cup and snacks. Period. Paragraph.
3. Talk to her. As stated earlier, she may not get what I'm saying. But at the very least, she knows I'm near even if I'm out of her field of vision, perusing the myriad choices of mustard.
4. Go, baby! Go! Since having a baby, I've learned to appreciate the art of strategy (or is that strategery?). While not everything has to be a military operation, it helps not to dawdle or tarry. (Does anybody use those words any more?) Seriously, get in and get out. Josie's a pretty get-along-go-along kinda gal, but once she reaches her limit the whole freakin' store will know it. And then I'm stuck with THAT KID.
5. Bribery. In the wake of an unholy meltdown and all my previous defenses have failed, there is always hope in a new toy. Or better yet, a rediscovered toy. So, in her diaper bag are small trinkets that she only gets while we're out. I learned this from a wise woman and it has rarely failed me.

If all else fails, I just pull the chord, open the chute and bail. Don't feel bad for leaving a full cart behind. Sometimes, some things just ain't worth it.

I know there will be new challenges up ahead as Josie starts to walk on her own. I'm sure that keeping her contained in a cart will be a feat of Olympic proportions. So, I'm always looking to add to my arsenal of sanity savers. What are y'alls' tricks for running errands with baby in tow and avoiding epic melt-downs?

Also, don't forget to comment on my giveaway post for a chance to win a $35 shopping voucher at CSN Stores online! Winner will be announced Friday, Dec. 24 around noon or whenever I want.

Weekend recipe: split pea soup (AND GIVEAWAY)

Sorry this is long overdue, but when you're unemployed it can be hard to sort the weekday from the weekend.
I kid, of course. I'm spending as much time chasing after a toddler and applying for jobs, as I would at a regular 9-to-5. I'm also cooking again. Hooray!
It's kind of weird whipping up a meal in unfamiliar environs. We're living temporarily with my father-in-law, who is a wonderful, wise, witty man and a steadfast patriarch. But he is not a cook.
In fact, his rule of measure is that he won't make anything that takes longer than seven minutes — start to finish.
And with my regular arsenal cookware in storage, I'm a bit fumbly. But I broke in my culinary habitat with a big pot of split pea soup. It always makes me feel at home.
Plus, the weather in Atlanta was awful. Our first week was cold and cold and just plain cold. Perfect soup weather.
So, I will share my recipe for warmth with, y'all.
AND, get yourself a little Christmas. How does this sound: a $35 promotional shopping code at CSN Stores (an online emporium of more than 200 Web sites where you can find furniture, kitchen ware, leather messenger bags, baby gear and all kinds of stuff )?
Comment below and let me know what soup warms your wintry cockles. I'll select one comment randomly and announce the winner on Friday. That's Christmas Eve, y'all.)

Split pea soup
Time
About an hour and a half
Ingredients and Equipment
- 1 pound bag dried split green peas
- 2 cloves of garlic, minced
- 2 carrots, peeled and diced
- 2 14-oz cans chicken broth
- 4 cups of water
- 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
- salt and pepper
- 1 teaspoon ground dried thyme
- 1 teaspoon ground dried sage
- 1 teaspoon paprika (not hot)
- 1 package turkey kielbasa (optional)
- soup pot
Directions
- Saute the carrots and garlic in olive oil in the bottom of the soup pot until tender
- Rinse split peas and add to pot. Then pour in chicken broth and water.
- Turn up heat to a boil and then lower to a simmer.
- Add salt and pepper to taste. Add spices.
- Simmer for about an hour, stirring occasionally. Peas should become very tender and nearly melt.
- Slice turkey kielbasa and heat in a saute pan until browned and add to soup.
This stuff is even better the next day. And there will be a next day because this recipe makes a lot.

Dear Santa

Since you are magic and can do anything, the following is what I'd like for Christmas.
WARNING: This is gonna be a toughie.
1. For Josie to embrace her sippy cup. Or at least, for your elves to invent one that she actually likes.
Sure, she enjoys them in so much as they are liquid-filled missiles. But to drink out of, not so much. Girl likes her bottle. What can I say? She get it from her mama.
I've heard from several mommy mentors that often it takes several different kinds before the "right one" is found. But dang, yo! That gets expensive. Do I really have to invest $80 dollars in sippy cups? Or does the trial of various kinds just pass enough time for her to warm up to the idea in general?
Help a good girl out. I can't keep calling her sippy cup "ba-ba" and thinking I'm gonna fool her.
2. For Josie to embrace milk. Or at least, for your elves to find a cow that makes milk Josie will drink.
Man, when Josie finally decided she liked formula, she committed. She's tolerating the half and half bottles (half formula/half whole milk), but she's flat out rejecting the just milk bottles. Even when we warm the milk. Short of dunking some Oreos in there, how else can I get her to make the switch? Haven't I been nice?
That's all. You made Artie on Glee walk. This should be doable, too.
I'm counting on you, Santa.

Table scraps

Baby, I don't think we're in Jackson any more.
We are finally settling into our temporary home in the Atlanta area. Right now, we still live in a magical fantasy world of cardboard boxes and clothing piles. So, cooking is not the top priority. But I've managed to make some decent meals this week and Josie has tried some new things.

Babysaurus Rex
A while back, I fretted about whether and how to introduce Josie to meat. Turns out she's a big fan of animal flesh. I'm OK with it. I'm OK with it. I'm OK with it....(repeat).
Actually though, I am becoming OK with it. While I have made the decision not to eat mammals and flip-flopped back and forth with vegetarianism, I think Josie should eat what makes her happy and healthy. And that can include meat until she decides otherwise.
She's been a big fan of eggs and poultry — especially dark meat chicken and turkey — since the day she first tried it. In fact, on cranky days when we can't get her to eat anything else on her tray, she'll eat baked chicken.
She's had beef at day care. And she tried ham at my parents house last month.
Today, she tried lamb and fish (mahi mahi) for the first time. She ate both like she'd been eating them her whole life.
So, look out animals! Basically if you roam, crawl, fly or swim, Josie will eat you.
And there's more bad news. She'll get more teeth. (She still only has two)

Berbere baby
We've only been in the ATL for four days and already we've eaten Indian and Ethiopian. Food. Not people. Felt the need to clarify, after the previous post.
This was my first time eating at an Ethiopian restaurant. It was good. Hearty, spicy lentil stews. Garlicky collard greens. Spongy, sourdough, pancake-like rolls of bread for scooping and sopping.
Josie was a big fan of the bread, called injera. She also liked the greens (??? I can't figure out if she likes garlic or just humors me sometimes.) and the mild, stewed chick peas.
I didn't actually let her try any of the Berbere spice mix because I thought it may be too overpowering for her. But she ate some of Chris' lamb stew.
It made me happy to share a new experience with her. And I hope she's an adventurous eater as she gets older. I think it's a good way to broaden her palate and introduce her to new cultures.
Whose cuisine should we hit up next? Maybe Polish. 'Bout time she had some pierogi and borscht. Those are her birthrights after all.
Or maybe some Persian (Ahem. Samira, I will trade babysitting. Seriously.)
Or Korean. Or Lebanese. Or dim sum. Or South African. Or Jamaican.
Atlanta maybe rooted in the heart of Dixie, but it's dinner table has traveled the globe.

Birthday girl

A picture paints a thousand words...but, uh, I can't think of any cool enough to describe these.
Today, we celebrated Josie's first birthday at day care. To make it more dramatic, it was also her last day before we head out of town.
But Josie loves drama.
And cupcakes.

Josie and her gal pal Clara

Daddy surprising Josie at day care

Josie holding court

(Im)patiently waiting on her cupcake

Suuuuu Garrrrrrrr!!!!!

Squishy frosting

Yums!

Chowing down on enormous cupcakes

Mommy trying to steal a sugar kiss

Aftermath

The wipe down

Sugar high

Lovin' on Miss Tabitha and Mrs. Jasmine

A cupcake by any other name

...is a mess.
Today is my daughter's first birthday.
HOLY CRAP! WHAT?! (Sorry, I just read the second line out loud.)
I told Chris I wouldn't make a big deal out of it. She's not going to remember it. I said for months there will be better times for blowout bashes. I swore no to-dos.
I lied. Eh. At least I talked a good game.
She's going to have a party at day care tomorrow. (Today will start at the pediatrician's for another round of vaccines. Happy birthday! But we'll sweeten the day with a trip to our regular Indian joint so she can visit all her fans)
I have ordered a dozen vanilla cupcakes with LIGHT PINK icing. Good golly, I sure hope my request to tone down the icing color transmitted.
The bakery manager was pleasant and polite enough, but I'm willing to wager he doesn't have kids. He was slow on the reasoning that less food dye is OK. I believe I showed great restraint in not reciting the What Goes In, Must Come Out speech.
Truth is, it all felt a bit silly. I had my heart set on making Josie's first birthday cake. It was going to be a low-sugar carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. In my head it was beautiful and delicious.
But with the impending move and the fact that Rosie, my lovely KitchenAid mixer, is packed away, I gave in to sanity and ordered from the store. (Also, my vanity would have insured that I would be crest fallen when Josie and her classmates took their first bites, anticipating total glucose overload and instead finding wheat germ and no processed sugar, and cried.)
[Can I just add, too, that there is tremendous mommy peer pressure from the day care set. I also made nine goodie packages for Josie's class. They're adorable blue pails stuffed with a bath toy, wash cloth and individual-sized package of apple puffs. Yep. Party favors for infants.
But let's be real. I'm competing with the other moms who have sent home sippy cups filled with animal crackers or tiny board books inside Chinese take out style boxes. Have I mentioned they're infants?! Whoever started this is either obsessed with Martha Stewart, rich, nutso or all of the above. But then, what does that make me for continuing it?]
On Friday, we are completing the first leg of our move to Atlanta, stopping in Birmingham and staying the night with my parents. Of course, the proud, first-time grands have already planned out a Josie-focused menu with banana pudding for dessert.
So despite my best intentions, I have given into mommy peer pressure and baby sugar lust.
Bring out the cupcakes and the cameras, I say! Bring on the sugar! Bring out the crumbs and the icing smeared hair and the mess!

Full-bellied livin'

More and more, I am giving credence to the notion that our uninhibited selves manifest in our children. Or at least that's what we see when we look at them.
A stellar example Monday night: (Caveat: This is what happens when your husband finds himself unemployed for the first day in a two-week stretch between jobs, for the first time in nearly two decades and home, alone, all day.) We decide to take Josie to a national, sit-down restaurant chain fondly parodied in Glee as Breadsticks.

It was her pre-first birthday party and my pre-last day at work party and our pre-moving celebration and an excuse for my husband to get out of the house.

Josie gleefully ate said breadsticks, mashed potatoes, chicken and cheese tortellini. And then? She passed out. Cold. In the car. Full belly. Heater on. Oh yeah.

Only a child would have such confidence and shamelessness and joie de vivre as to eat carbs, forgo vegetables, guzzle drinks, wave at strangers and talk with full mouths and not feel that's in any way bad. It's also good that those people have parents so they don't do that all the time.
But we can take lessons from children in how to find and enjoy the good things.
Eat up those fleeting pleasurable moments and then enjoy a full-bellied rest.

Kitchen Helper

So, I don't wanna brag, but I pretty much have the best kitchen helper ever.
Josie loves to hang out in the kitchen. Some of her most favorite toys are in there: refrigerator magnets and pots and pans.
Behold:



P.S. I still haven't talked her into making me lunch, though.

Ain't no thing

As we prepare to move two states away, start new jobs and find new routines, we're also preparing to wean Josie now from bottles to sippy cups and from formula to whole milk. Great timing, no?

Most docs/officials/smart people recommend switching baby to whole milk at a year old, and we hope to do that. But we may delay the big switch for a few weeks depending on how quickly Josie adapts to her new home and schedule. 

Josie has done so well with all the other transitions we've asked her to make. Still, this is the first time we've asked her to make such big ones so close together. I don't want to yank the bottle out from under her, so to speak.

As usual, the rationale side of me knows this will be difficult at first but still harder for me than for Josie. And the worry side of me is saying "Ah! Ah! Ah!"

The rationale side will win, and the worry side will remember this:

Out of sheer curiosity on Saturday, I let Josie try milk. 

Did she like it? Dunno. She didn't not like it. 

I poured the milk in a sippy cup because I don't want Josie associating her new beverage-of-choice with bottles since that would defeat the weaning goal. And I didn't heat it up because I want her to take milk straight from the refrigerator. 

When we weaned her from breast to formula bottle, we heated her bottles to make the transition easier and more appealing. But now, she expects warm bottles all the time. When the bottles go, I'll be done with the tedious heating routine.

Any way, Josie took a few sips of milk. And then a few more. She never broke her concentration on the alphabet magnets she was rearranging on the fridge. She took more sips and carried on carrying on.

Basically, her whole demeanor said, "Ain't no thing."

I am encouraged. Now, if we can only cut down on the number of bottle feedings each day and get her to eat more table food....

Hopefully, by January, I'll be able to look back and say "Ain't no thing."

The way the cookie crumbles

Reaching into my jean pockets Friday morning, I was caught by surprise. I was fishing for a hair band and came back with a fist full of crumbs.
"Huh? Oh yea...." It was, folks, evidence of my guilt. The crime? Bribery. The punishment? Well, none. I pretty much got away with it.
And I'm not sorry. Not, I say. I did and I'd do it again.
You see, Josie developed an ear infection and the doc prescribed her the regular 10-day regimen of antibiotics. This time, instead of the 1/2 teaspoons twice daily dose, he decided we needed more of a challenge and bumped up the dose to 1 teaspoon once a day.
Given that the only thing Josie likes less than taking medicine is having her nose wiped, the first few dosings went as we expected. One of us (Chris) distracted the babe while the other (me) coaxed her into swallowing the cloying, thick medicine. Or at least, that's how the ritual began.
It quickly tumbled into a bad cop, worse cop routine with Chris pinning her to the changing table while I alternated between jamming the syrup syringe into her cheek and covering her mouth so she couldn't spit it out.
On Friday, Chris went into work earlier. And so, faced with the routine alone and unarmed I improvised. OK. I bribed.
I got a cookie from the cupboard. I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but it worked like a charm. I don't want to always use food as the proverbial carrot but I can now see why food symbolizes incentive so well.

Weekend recipe: sloppy Josies

So...Josie is going through a finicky streak and what I hope is just a phase. One day, she's all, "Bananas! I freakin' love bananas!" And the next day, she's "Ugh. Bananas. No way!"
She used to chow down on sweet potatoes. Now, they're floor decorations.
Scrambled eggs and grits are so two weeks ago.
Green beans? On the floor. Carrots? On the floor. Oatmeal? On the floor.
Pretty much the only things that have been making it into her mouth are Cheerios, cranberry jiggle , cheese and yogurt. That's just not pretty.
I hope it's just that she's experimenting with gravity and will go back to eating. Or that she's toying with her new found will. Or that feeding the dog, right now, is more fun than feeding herself.
While I know she's getting most of her nutrients still from bottles, the time of table food and whole milk only are quickly approaching. As is the end of my patience. A month more and I may be at the point where I'm offering to buy her a pony if she'll just eat peas.
But for now, I'm adopting the U.S. State Department policy that I don't negotiate with (mealtime) terrorists.
And I'm trying to be more creative. Thus was born this weekend recipe.
She gets sloppy Joes at day care. I'm not sure how much she eats, but I haven't heard any reports that she's not. So, if I can't beat day care food I sure as heck can make it better and healthier.
And, I can repurpose some of that delicious, leftover turkey in my fridge.

Sloppy Josies
Time
About 30 minutes
Ingredients and Equipment
- 1/2 a medium onion
- 1 carrot
- extra virgin olive oil
- salt
- A few handfuls of roasted turkey (You'll only need enough to make a few sandwiches. A good chunk of breast meat and some thigh meat will do. The first time I made this, I added way to much and had to triple the sauce recipe.)
- 8 oz can of plain tomato sauce
- Worcestershire sauce
- 1/4 tsp ground cumin
- 1/8 tsp paprika (not hot paprika)
- 1/8 tsp chili powder (mild)
- 1 tsp brown sugar
- wheat bread
- saute pan
- sauce pan
- food processor
Directions
- Peel and dice the onion and carrot. (The dice should be about finger tip sized.)
- Saute carrot and onion in about a teaspoon of extra virgin olive oil, with a pinch of salt, on low heat until the onion is translucent and the carrot is soft.
- Transfer carrot and onion to the food processor and pulse
- Add the turkey meat and pulse again until you get the texture you'd like. (The first time I tried this, I pulsed too long. The turkey ended up the consistency of potted meat. Josie didn't seem to mind, but it wasn't as appetizing for the adults.)
- In a small sauce pan add the tomato sauce, a few dashes of Worcestershire sauce, brown sugar and spices. Simmer for five minutes and let cool.
- Mix the the ground turkey and sauce in a bowl. Then serve on toasted wheat bread. (I constructed Josie's sloppy Josies in a mini-finger sandwich fashion. Presentation plus!)

Thanksgiving gobble, gobble

This time last year, I was the stuffed turkey at the holiday table. I was carrying Josie and two weeks from my projected due date. I could hardly imagine what was in store, much less what this Thanksgiving was going to be like.
So as Josie's first turkey day appeared in my headlights about a month ago, grand expectations began cartwheeling through my mind. We had hoped to join my husband's family in Atlanta, but our impending move (What?! We're leaving Mississippi? Yes, my friends. It's true. These muscadines are destined to become Georgia peaches.) and other stresses kept us home. My parents then planned to visit from Birmingham, but my mother was struck with the yucks.
Finally, we decided on a low-key, just-us shindig. At first, I was kind of bummed. Now, I can say it's been the most relaxed Thanksgiving I've ever had. And not a bad way to introduce Josie to the holiday. I am so thankful for her and my husband and 4,000-calorie days.
The family went to the zoo while the turkey roasted. We ate about 5 p.m. Josie had turkey, cornbread dressing, gravy, cinnamon sweet potatoes and homemade cranberry Jello.
Her favorite? The Jello. Followed closely by the gravy.
After eating and smearing the remains across her highchair tray, she danced a little jig to the soul music we played in the background.
It was so very cool and sweet and nice. I still missed my parents, my brother, my in-laws, the rest of the clan. But I had...well, here. See for yourself.

Table scraps

How You Like Them Apples?
I have been a victim of marketing.
About a month ago, Josie sampled juice for the first time. Chris and I wanted to avoid the introduction for a while because so many juices out there contain very little fruit and very lot sugar.
So, we did what we thought was best. We bought low-sugar or no-sugar-added apple juice, such as Mott's for Tots, and then we watered it down.
Well hello Shirley, we come to discover that buying these more expensive, "better" juices was essentially buying into a more expensive, not-really-better marketing campaign.
The other day at the grocery store, Chris stops and says, "I want to check something." He grabs a bottle of the regular store brand apple juice.
Compare: Mott's — Contains 54 percent juice. No added sugar listed among ingredients. Sixty calories and 15 grams of sugar per serving. One hundred percent of vitamin C (RDA).
Kroger brand — Contains 100 percent juice. No sugar added listed among ingredients. Per serving 110 calories and 28 grams of sugar. Vitamin C 130 percent.
Yep, Mott's is lower in sugar and, thus, calories. But if I'm already watering down the juice, why am I paying Mott's for less juice and, what I imagine, is just more water?
It's not like buying Mott's has sapped my 401k or anything. I just don't like having my bubble burst.

Something Frosted, Something Chewed, Someone Pooped Something Blue
There was another birthday in Josie's day care class. That meant another round o'cupcakes for the babes.
When I picked her up this afternoon, the teachers had taken care to mop all the crusted frosting from her face except for three tiny blue specks near her ear.
"Josie was so into her cupcake," one of the ladies said.
"Well, Daddy's going to handle this diaper change," I said, except not out loud.
And as the saying goes, nothing is certain except death, taxes and that blue food coloring will ... Let's just the aftermath was extensive and cerulean.
"Did you eat a Smurf?" was all Chris could manage in the wake of such diaper devastation.
What I wasn't aware of was that the food dye could also stain her little tushie. If we had let her steep any longer, she would have had a terrible case of Avatar bottom.
Word to the wise, take it easy on the vibrant birthday cupcakes until baby is potty trained.

Turkey Lurkey
Oh. My. God. I'm. So. Excited. About. Baby's. First. Thanksgiving. Cannot. Stop. Writing. In. One. Word. Sentences.
Dear lord, that is annoying. I'm sorry. But I'm terribly into this holiday.
Don't fret. You'll hear alllllll about it soon.

Weekend recipe: home unfries

By most measures, I'm head cook in this house with one big exception: breakfast. I'm OK at breakfast.
No, actually I'm pretty bad.
That's because I'd eat cold, leftover take-out for breakfast — and have on many occasions — if left to my own devices.
Fortunately for us, Chris is The Breakfast Master. And yes, I meant to capitalize the.
He, like any good southern gent, bakes biscuits from scratch. He can whip up a mean egg white omelet. He makes terrific blueberry pancakes. He makes the best home fries.
But I like to call them unfries because they're not fried. They are baked. And boy, are they good!
Really, his weekend breakfasts with a good pot of French press coffee were the only reasons I'd get up before 10 a.m. That was before Josie. Now, those breakfasts are what I look forward to as I balance a baby on my hip and search for my glasses at 7 a.m. on Sunday.
Even Josie's digging these first family meals, especially the home unfries. What can I say? Girl likes her some potatoes.
So without further rambling, here's Chris to guest host this edition of "Weekend recipe." Take it away!

Home Unfries
Hi! The Breakfast Master here.
Breakfasts and grilled meat. That's what men do -- mostly because it is basic and you can do it with a beverage (coffee or beer) in one hand. I think the cavemen discovered this.
Regardless, I have to say it is satisfying to prepare something for my daughter that she really digs and I can feel pretty good about. Here goes:
Time
About 20 minutes
Ingredients and Equipment
- Two medium red potatoes
- Paprika (sweet)
- Flake salt (a pinch)
- 1 Tbs of canola oil
- A sharp knife
- A small mixing bowl and spatula
Directions
- Wash and slice the potatoes into sticks about 2 1/2 inches long and about 1/2 inch thick. Leave the skins.
- Place in bowl and microwave for three minutes (this is an optional step, but I find it makes the baking go a little faster and does not affect the taste).
- Drizzle canola oil on the potatoes and sprinkle with paprika and salt.
- Using a spatula, stir the potatoes in the bowl until they are evenly seasoned.
- Spread the potatoes flat on a baking sheet and place in an oven (or toaster oven) preheated to 425.
- After 10 minutes, flip the potatoes over.
- Continue to bake another five minutes or until golden brown.
- Place on paper towel or napkin on a plate to blot any excess oil and serve.

Thanks, babe! I'm already ready for next weekend.

Some days, she just ain't havin' it

Like today. I made a great dinner while I convinced her to play with pots and pans and wooden spoons. Turkey meatloaf with all kinds of veggies tucked inside. And mashed sweet potatoes, parboiled first in orange juice. I made this dinner because it's tasty and it's something everyone can eat, no special steps.
But poor Pooter was worn out. She's battling a slight seasonal cold and fell asleep in my arms while we waited on the meatloaf to finish baking and for Daddy to get home. I couldn't bring myself to wake her, not even after Daddy had arrived and the meatloaf was done.
When she finally roused from her nap, dinner was served. But as I stated, Josie's response was pretty much, "Nuh-uh."
Behold:

Best birthday dinner ever

Tonight, we ate at our favorite Indian place to celebrate my birthday. (Hot Dang! I've been able to string this celebration out for a week!) It wasn't fancy. It wasn't expensive. It was perfect.
Particularly because I was there with my two favorite people, my tribe, my husband and daughter. And we all shared.
Chris and I ordered our curries mildly spiced and Josie dug into yellow dal (a lentil stew with tomatoes and cumin) and palek paneer (spinach with cheese cubes). I split open my samosa and scooped out potato and pea stuffing for her. I even shared my gulab jamun dessert.
We left a pretty generous tip considering half of it wound up on the floor, but I think she liked it all.
Side note: What is the proper tipping protocol for the times when child-in-tow makes a moderate to unholy mess? I always tip 20 percent for good service, but I imagine leaving more is a better choice, right?
I've realize I take pleasure in being able to share food with my babe. When I was carrying her in the bread basket, I had no choice but to share. When she nursed, I was the food. When she started solids, I made the food. But now, we finally sit down and eat the same things and it feels different ... complete.
Am I making any sense?
Anyway, best birthday dinner ever!
And the dinner before was nice, too. Just us ladies.
I picked up a premade meal from the grocery store since time and an empty pantry weren't on my side. Grilled chicken, cheesy pasta and mixed vegetables. It was ordinary, but it will be a meal that will always stand out. Watching Josie stuff her face with the same dinner made me feel happy.

Carrots and green beans and pasta! Oh yum!

C'mere veggies!

Yo moms, more eats!

(Josie apparently loves exclamation points and finger points)
Now, I can't wait for Chris and I to make our favorite foods for her and to find out what her favorites are.
What are your family's favorites? Gimme some ideas. After all, it's my birthday.

I'm baaaaack!

Miss me? My man and I got back today from a well-deserved respite in Lucea, Jamaica. (Sighhh...) Originally, the getaway was timed to celebrate my upcoming birthday, but we ended up NEEDING it. We're planning a move to another state, trying to sell our house in — shall we say — a not-so-good market and moving on to other jobs (I still have to find mine, gulp!). Plus we have a cruising, hungry, teething, adorable despot running our household.
It was my first time away from the baby for more than one night. I woke up the first morning feeling...uh, what's the word...rested? I hadn't said that in so long my lips almost forgot how to form the sounds.
My parents kept Josie for the five days we were abroad. They're still so in love with grandchild No.1 that they still think of babysitting as a pleasure and a privilege. Shhhhh...let us let them keep thinking that as long as possible.
And, yeah, I was nervous leaving my lamb for so long even though she was staying with the people who raised me (I mean, I turned out OK, right? RIGHT!?). And, yeah, everything went well. And, yeah, somethings they didn't do as well as Mommy and Daddy. But dang it if somethings they didn't do better  — namely getting Josie to eat more table food.
Whenever I spoke to my parents on the phone my questions always went in this order: How is she sleeping? What is she eating?
I let them feed Josie. I sent her with snacks and formula, but her main meals came from them. Looking back on it, I think that's the ultimate sign of trust.
Here's what I learned from my elders:
1. Parboil sweet potatoes in natural orange juice and mash. The OJ gives them a little sweetness but is way healthier than brown sugar or marshmallows, and it also adds vitamin C.
2. Make real oatmeal. At 11 months, Josie can handle the real stuff, which I imagine also tastes better than the pasty, high-polished baby oatmeal we've been giving her.
3. Fresh pineapple cores (you know the fibrous, hard, throw-away centers of the fresh-cut pineapple in the produce section) make excellent teethers. Baby can scrape some off just a little of the sweet, tart fleshy fruit but can't bite chunks big enough to choke on.
4.  Puree cooked vegetables and hide them in meatloaf and meatballs, a strategy also known as the sneak. My dad made Josie a turkey loaf and she LOVED it.
5. All babies love mashed potatoes. 'Nuf said.
And, as a side note, here's what I learned in Jamaica:
1. You can eat callaloo for breakfast. And it's gooooood.
2. Never go against Canadians (in drinking games) when integrity is on the line.
3. Food really does taste better when your toes are buried in sand.
4. Chicken patties! Chicken patties! Chicken patties!
5. Feral cats love jerk chicken.

My little monkey

Josie's got Daddy reeled in, and it's so cute.
But Daddy's got strategy. He's setting a good example. For instance, snacking. That's not a Twinkie in his hand.
I think by seeing us enjoy good food, Josie tries good food. And she can think she's in charge.

Weekend recipe: apple cranberry jiggle

No, that's not Chris' pet name for me. Though, it wouldn't be the worst he's come up with.
It's my (belated, again) recipe that blends a distinct flavor of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday with gelatin, a wiggly fun food.
Ever since I decided to be a super adult and cook my own Thanksgiving a handful of years back, I've been making the cranberry sauce from scratch. Dear goddess of the harvest, it is the easiest recipe on earth...that involves cranberries. And it is super delicious. I can't look at the canned stuff the same.
Bonus! This is a recipe that can be used by adults as well as kids, or kids of all ages, or all immature adults.
Apple Cranberry Jiggle
Psstttt...hey y'all adults...I bet if you add extra powdered gelatin and a couple or dozen shots of vodka, this would make a great holiday shooter. Just sayin'... I mean, who doesn't feel like they need a drink during family holidays?

Time
15 minutes to prep and cook; must chill overnight
Ingredients and Equipment
This is going to be a two-parter. The first recipe is for the cranberry sauce, from which you'll strain off some juice to then make the jiggle. Adults get a delicious relish and babies get a fruity snack.
For the cranberry sauce, you'll need:
- 1 12-oz package of fresh cranberries (so available right now in the produce section of your grocery store; please do not use canned)
- 1 cup of unsweetened apple juice (like Motts for Tots or the natural stuff)
- 1/2 cup of sugar
- 2 cinnamon sticks
- 8 whole cloves (optional)
- sauce pan

For the jiggle, you'll need:
- 1/4 cup water (room temp is fine)
- 1 1/4-oz packet OR 1 tablespoon of plain gelatin (may be a little hard to find; check the baking aisle of your grocery store)
- 1 and 1/2 cups unsweetened apple juice
- 1/4 cup of strained cranberry sauce (just the liquid)
- sauce pan
- bowl
- sieve or other strainer
- 8-inch baking pan
- plastic wrap
Directions
To make the cranberry sauce:
- Add cranberries and 1 cup of apple juice to a sauce pan over medium heat.
- Mix in sugar and add cinnamon sticks and cloves.
- Bring to a simmer. Allow it to cook covered — though stir occasionally — until the berries have popped and softened and the mixture thickens into a syrupy stew.
- Remove from heat.

Magic

To make the jiggle:
- Mix the gelatin and water in a bowl.
- Once the cranberry sauce has cooled, ladle a portion into a sieve over a bowl and mash down to force out liquid. Strain 1/4 cup. (You can then add the mashed berry mixture back in with the rest of the cranberry sauce and store in the fridge.)

- Pour the cranberry sauce and 1 and 1/2 cups of apple juice into a sauce pan and bring to a boil. Then, remove from heat.

- Add the juices to the gelatin in the bowl and stir until the gelatin is fully dissolved.

- Pour the mixture into the baking pan, cover with plastic wrap (careful not to let the wrap touch the top of the mixture) and place in the refrigerator to chill overnight.

- Once the gelatin has set, cut into postage stamp-sized squares and serve.

My grandma's old bake ware still works

Quick warning: This jiggle is such a pretty color, but less pretty once you realize how easily it stains clothes. Thus, bibs are a must...maybe for the adults, too, especially if there's vodka involved.

To meat or not to meat?

Here's my omnivore's dilemma: I eat some meat. Fish, fowl, reptiles. No mammals. I have vegetarian tendencies. My reasoning is a long, not exciting story, but my position is essentially that, as delicious as some animals may be, I can't bring myself to eat up the food chain in such proximity to humans.
And as an aside, I fear the hormones, antibiotics and chemicals used in mass farming of meat animals even though I'm a bit ignorant overall on the subject.
My husband eats any meat, though in very moderate amounts. He may have a steak once a quarter and pork on the rare occasions that A) someone else made it and invited him for dinner, B) it's a hotdog at a baseball park. He's also amenable to tofu, beans and meatless dishes, but holds none of my warm, furry aversions.
So where does that place Josie?

Turkey and green beans

I want her to eat what we eat, and that's been fairly easy except for this point where Mommy and Daddy diverge.

How do we introduce her to meats? Do we limit her meat eating until she is old enough to decide for herself? How do we talk to day care about what proteins we'd like for her to eat and which ones we'd like for her to avoid? Will she miss out on foods that are important to our culture or her friends' cultures? Are we limiting her palate? Are we being too controlling? Is there a compromise?

To meat or not to meat, that is the question.

She's had a few meats already. She's had chicken and turkey, both foods our family eats regularly. We're holding off on fish and seafood until she's at least a year old (which, gulp, is in weeks). 

And I know day care has given her a beef patty at least once. Not sure how she liked it, but there were no problems on the back end, if you know what I mean.
Still, I kind of which I had come to a decision, a solution to this dilemma before that happened. Shoulda paid more attention to the day care menu, too.
I have several momma mentors who probably have considered this before. So if y'all are reading, please weigh in. How did y'all do it? Would you do it differently? Am I just freaking out again?

CHOMP!

Back to our regularly scheduled programming

Friday, my man and I packed up and headed out of town. It was such a needed relief after a hellacious week. The timing was serendipitous though. We had planned this trip a while ago.
My husband's alma mater, the University of Southern Mississippi, was playing Tulane in New Orleans, a city we die for — or at least look for any excuse to visit. And it would be my first night away from baby, a trial run for the upcoming Birthday Beach Bash. (I believe it should have a proper title; I am turning 30 after all).
Friday was spent eating and shopping and eating along Magazine Street. My first 24 hours in NOLA I ate: truffled butternut squash bisque and grilled marlin in a satsuma beurre blanc at Martinque Bistro, a pistachio and cherry pastry and chocolate and hazelnut mousse at Sucré, duck confit with lentils and figs, julienned kale salad with beets and citrus and seared tuna over fingerling potatoes, fennel and olives at Gautreau's. I think I ate all the butter and cream from the Croissant, I mean Crescent, City.
But enough of what I ate. This blog ain't Feeding Momma.
Still, this is somewhat about me. The trip was important not just to see how Josie would do during an extended time without me but also to see how I would do.
And, if successful, it would mean Josie was fully weaned.
As usual, she did lovely. My wonderful gal has made every transition we've asked her to. She took her bottles, she ate, she played, she slept.
I sort of did the same thing. And I may have whined a little. But I had an epiphany.
I always felt guilty about leaving the babe behind. The root of that is because for so long I couldn't be more than a few hours away. My boobs and her needs wouldn't let me.
Now, she doesn't need me like that. It makes me kind of sad to admit, but she doesn't.
In fact, she really hasn't been all that interested in nursing for the last few weeks. So, even if I wanted to, she's not as in to it. Though today, she did sidle up to me and pull into standing like she wanted to be held. As I reached for her, she extended one index finger and poked me right in the boob. Poked me good and laughed.
It's also amazing how my body has adjusted. No longer do my (to use Sue Sylvester's terms) vine-ripened chest fruit become swollen grapefruits after 2 hours, 4 hours, 6 hours, 12 hours, a day without nursing.
So gals, looks like a I got you back, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

BRAT

Nope. That doesn't refer to Josie. In fact, she has been anything but despite apparently catching my tummy bug. Poor gal. Poor Charles Barfley. Poor Bob Barfer.
She woke up about 4 a.m. today, around the usual time we change her, give her a bottle and rock her back to sleep. Except this time, we were greeted with splotches of upchuck in her crib. Nothing a quick change couldn't handle. She eventually took the bottle and went back to sleep. Half hour later she wakes us up with a sad little cry.
I rush in just in time to witness the projectile show. I was half frightened and half impressed. I hadn't seen that kind of velocity since college, and she didn't even cry about it later.
After another change and much wiping down, she is playing in her nursery like nothing happened. But her daddy and I are shaken. We've been through some ear infections, but never the yaks. And all the scary stuff I've read about dehydration comes rushing to the front of my conscience at once. I am worry monster mommy.
Fast forward to 8 a.m., when she's slept a little, dirty sheets and jammies have whirred in the washer and I've catnapped on the floor by her crib. Chris is taking the day off to watch the urpy baby and I am heading to work, but not before lecturing him to give her plenty of liquids — BUT DON'T FORCE THEM — and to follow the BRAT diet. That's bananas, rice, apple sauce and toast. All foods that are supposed to be gentle on the tummy.
Poor guy is exhausted and can only nod, waiting for me to leave them in peace. And heaven of heavens, I get this update at work around noon:
"Toast and apple sauce. So far, so good. She seems hungry."

Sorry I puked.

I guess good sleep, a light bottle and some BRAT make a curative recipe. I'm crossing my fingers and toes it's true.

Anyone out there have any other good ways to soothe the upset baby tums?

The end of an era

As Josie grows closer to becoming fully weaned, I find myself mourning the loss of the tender moments of nursing.
I mean hurray Upcoming Weeklong Surprise Birthday Trip to Somewhere Beachy! But also, boo hoo. (Or should that be boob who?)
I miss nursing times more than I thought I would. Did I cherish those times enough? When it was just the two of us snuggled close in the wee hours of dawn, in the thick dark of the evening, in the fading glow of late afternoon following a long day at work? When I could lull her to sleep, skin against skin?
Perhaps, part of my woe is that Josie is almost a toddler. That means no longer a baby, my baby.
So I am replaying the nursings in my mind sometimes — sort of like I did her birth — to savor them a little longer, to squeeze out the last drops of warm fuzziness until the memories dissipate and are eventually replaced.
And to help with the mourning, I celebrate the new. The pulling up on everything and beaming at her new found stance. The constant gibberish chatter that almost sounds like language. The recognition of people and places that are constants in her life.
She's also helped me overcome the mourning in her own charming way. Like earlier this morning when instead of allowing me to nurse her in bed (which I do to coax her into letting me sleep just a half hour longer), she snuggled up in a crescent across my chest, laid her head in the crook of my elbow and patted my face.
Then, without warning, she bit the stew out of my forearm. Teeth! Ah yes, like razors. And so maybe I mourn the nursing times a little less.

Weekend recipe: back to basics

First off, an apology. Sorry this weekend recipe is late. I'm not a fan of tardiness (Thanks Kim Zolciak for making that word hip). I'm also not a fan of tummy bugs, and this bug was mean and nasty. Let's just say I was in no shape to write, much less think, about food.
But after swigging some Pedialyte and balling up on the couch for 36 hours, I'm on the mend. And I'm ready to talk baby food makin'. Let's get it on.
When I decided to make Josie's food, I knew I wanted her first bite to be something nutritious, gentle and sweet but not too sugary. So I picked sweet potato.
Whatever you pick, making purees is actually pretty easy, is cheaper than buying premade, doesn't require any special kitchen appliances (as long as you have, pots and pans and a blender or food processor) and takes less time than slapping on sweats and shoes and driving to the grocery store.
Back to basics
Here's the basic recipe for any single fruit or veggie puree. For first stage food, the texture should be similar to cream. Once baby has been introduced to a variety and has moved on to stage two, you are free to mix and match as you please. Also, if you find yourself lacking ideas, go peruse the baby food aisles.
Time
30 minutes or less
Ingredients and Equipment
Here's where you have options. I'm lucky enough to have access to a farmers market from summer to mid-fall, and I really enjoyed picking out produce that was in season. I knew it was fresh and flavorful. But truth be told, I found some frozen vegetables worked just as well. I never used canned because of the high salt content and general not-fresh flavor.
I've listed some of our favorite fruits and vegetables, though feel free to run wild.
- Fresh vegetable: Sweet potatoes, butternut squash, carrots, broccoli
- Frozen vegetable: sweet peas, green beans, lima beans, spinach
- Fresh fruits: peaches, mango, apple, blueberries, pears (fruits such as bananas and avocados can be pureed and served raw)
- Frozen fruits: peaches, mango, blueberries, cherries
- Steamer pot, stew pot, oven or microwave
- blender or food processor
- sieve (optional)
Directions
Again, more options when it comes to cooking methods.
- Wash all fruits and vegetables and remove any peels, skins, rinds or seeds. Then, cut into manageable pieces.
- Steaming: great for squash, carrots, broccoli. Place pieces in a slotted or colander like basket over boiling water, cover and cook until tender.
- Baking: great for sweet potatoes, yams or any kind of potato. (In a hurry? Just prick some holes in the skin with a fork, pop in the microwave and nuke until the flesh is tender. Cut in half and scoop out.)
- Stewing: great for any fruit or frozen vegetables. Add a little water to the pot and simmer until tender.
You see, tender is the optimal condition here.
- Puree: Place the fruit or vegetable in a blender or food processor. Thin with breastmilk, formula or cooking liquid and blend until smooth.
- Strain: This is really only necessary for stringy or fibrous vegetables and fruits (green beans, mango, sweet peas)
- Store: Pour purees into ice cube trays and allow them to freeze overnight. Pop out the cubes (pre-portioned; about a tablespoon each) into a plastic freezer bag, label and keep up to a month.
Ta da! Now get on it, y'all!

Yogurt? I love yogurt.

Seriously, I think she does. Maybe too much.

Yogurt and her favorite pastas are the only things she'll allow me to spoon feed her. While both make her happy, only one makes a considerable mess. (Which deep down, kind of makes me happy. I'm not yet out of  the sloppy-baby-covered-in-food-oh-look-she's-so-cute phase. Soon, though. Soon.)
And I'd feel guiltier ('cause seriously point me out a momma who couldn't feel guiltier) about the sugar in her organic blueberry yogurt if it weren't so high in protein, calcium and vitamins A & D. At least, I point those things out to my conscience when I do start to fret about the sugar.
Speaking of sugar, look at the monster that greeted me when I went to pick up my daughter from her day care Halloween party

Little lady was tweaking like Andy Dick after an all-nighter.
Day care gave her class cupcakes, cheese puffs, fried chicken strips and bananas. All things the parents brought for the party, mind you. Yeah. Guess who brought the bananas? And yeah. Guess who ate the bananas?
Ah well, it was a special occasion. And we did try.
Truthfully, she had a great time and was super cute covered in frosting. I just hope these moments really are only special occasions. I don't want to raise a sugar monster.

War and peas

As I mentioned the other day, I've got some leftover baby food issues. Namely the cubes of frozen purees sitting idly in Ziplock bags, beckoning me to thaw them or at least build a colorful igloo.
Every time I open the freezer door for some ice cream or a veggie burger patty, there they are. Reminding me of the energy and ingredients I put into making them. Shaming me for the waste.
No more, I say! This is war.
I conquered the leftover butternut squash and sweet potatoes in a spicy bisque on Tuesday. On Wednesday, I nearly conquered the sweet peas.
One of Josie's favorites right now is cheesy tomato (and chicken) pasta. So if she likes that, who's to say she won't like cheesy peasy chicken pasta?

I mean it is made of all the same ingredients, except I substitute sweet green peas for the tomato. It takes the same amount of time to make — No. Wait. Less time! You don't have to blanch and peel a tomato. It's a mini meal. And it has a cute name.

Next battle: green beans. I'm recruiting kitchen soldiers. Anyone want to strategize on how to take down the ranks of leftovers in my freezer?

When a life hands you baby food, make...soup?

Tuesday night I was scrubbing pots until nearly 10. Yeah, I party.
But I'm not telling y'all this to solicit sympathy. Rather, I'm going to brag on myself.
I'm writing a column for The Clarion-Ledger (the daily newspaper in Jackson, Miss.) about making baby food and why I do it to run on its Dining page. And so the pot washing was the result of making and photographing a butternut squash puree.
While the prospect of writing a first-person column — only my second ever for the newspaper — is exciting, I'm more proud of me for my little blip of Polish ingenuity.
You see, Josie's not eating purees any more. She loved 'em. But now she's on to bigger bites.
I'm a firm believer in waste not, want not. That meant I was stuck with a puree. To add insult, my freezer still has a few bags of various untouched, blended veggies. Frankly, I was feeling a bit outnumbered.
Good thing I was craving soup. Actually ever since posting on my friend Noodles' blog, I've been wanting a nice, hearty butternut squash bisque. The stars were aligning.
After steaming the squash and running it through a blender, after I'd demonstrated the recipe and the photos were captured, I dumped the whole shebang into a pot that I had seasoned with extra virgin olive oil, garlic and a generous amount of dried thyme, allspice, cinnamon, cumin, ginger and cayenne.
I added a little chicken broth and the rest of the pureed butternut squash and sweet potato baby food cubes from the freezer and presto! I had a spicy bisque.
No one at my table will have to know it was once baby food. Y'all CAN keep a secret, right?

Mommy's little baby loves cornbread, cornbread

My southern belle had a down home feast Sunday night. I'm talking pinto beans and cornbread, y'all.

And judging by her face and hands and shirt, she loved it.

Then again, it's hard not to love my husband's homemade cornbread. Just ask Josie.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RtkbHO7IDVI

And look! She has her Braves shirt on. It don't get more southern.

P.S. I did it! Pshew. I'm s-m-r-t.

Blargh!

Well y'all. For the last two days, I've been trying to post a super cute video about how much my daughter loves cornbread. But as you can see, no video. Blogger and Flip aren't speaking, apparently, and I'm stuck in the middle.
So, until I can work it out between the two, let me leave you with a non sequitur warning: DO NOT LET YOUR BABY TRY CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM LESS THAN AN HOUR BEFORE BEDTIME.
(Really, this doesn't need explanation. And frankly, I'm still too worn out from our misadventures to talk about it.)

Weekend recipe: baby quiche

The other day I was soliciting breakfast ideas for Josie after falling into a rut of cereal and fruit. Thanks to kind hearted readers, I am regaining my mojo. Josie thanks you, too.

One of the ideas that has gone over really well so far is from my coworker Lisa. She said to bake eggs in a muffin pan, like quiches. I tweaked the idea by adding cottage cheese, which Josie is crazy about.

These quiches won my heart because they are easy to make, easy to store and made with whole foods. Josie fell in love with their eggy, cheesy goodness.

Breakfast bachelor No.1, step up and introduce yourself.

Baby Quiche

(Does not contain real baby)

Time

15 minutes

Ingredients and Equipment

This recipe should yield six quiches.

- 6 egg yolks (save the whites for a healthy grown-ups' omelet)

- 1 heaping cup cottage cheese

- pinch of dried chives (optional)

- muffin pan

Directions

In a bowl, mix the egg yolks, cottage cheese and chives. Pour the mixture evenly into a muffin pan and bake at 375 degrees for about 5-10 minutes, until the tops are firm and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

(NOTE: I didn't use a nonstick muffin pan and discovered I should have sprayed the bottom with oil. Also, my muffin pan had 12 muffin cups. So, I poured a little water into the six empty cups so that the heat would be even. I think the water also added some steam and helped keep the quiches from drying out.)