Is THAT what poppy seeds smell like???

The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook, by Deb Perelman, page 12, plum poppy seed muffins.

I'm supposed to be heading outside to rake leaves with the hour I have before it's time to retrieve the girl from school, but you people need to know what just happened - what is still happening - in my kitchen. You. Need. To.  Know.

I don't know why this particular recipe jumped out at me more than any other as the first recipe that I wanted to tackle out of this cookbook's exceedingly generous devotion to breakfast. Perhaps it was the intriguing anecdote surrounding peeling poppy seeds out of lemon's grasp, perhaps it was the adorable photo of her little baboushka biting into a plum, perhaps it was the idea of eating a muffin containing brown butter, flour and yogurt after two weeks of ridding my body of said delicacies. Whatever the case, this is what I settled on today.

First, I browned the butter until it smelled rich and nutty. Then, while that cooled, I went about the business of preparing the rest of the batter. Everything went according to the usual plan of muffin making, until I added the butter. The butter gets added to a mixture of eggs, sugar and sour cream/yogurt while it's still a bit warm. As I poured it in and began to stir…WHAM!!! My olfactory neurons were slam-banged with the aroma of I have no idea what but oh my god I want to smell this smell for the rest of my life. The combination of brown butter and sugar and yogurt becomes this other-worldly experience that I could have gone my entire life missing had it not been for this cookbook, and this recipe.

And then. After spending a few moments with my nose in the bowl, inhaling deeply, it was time to add the dry ingredients. And, if you can believe it, one stir in I was walloped by a smell even more divine than the last! Poppy seeds? Could it be??? I never considered them to have a discernable flavour of their own, merely a delightful crunch and an embarrassing tendency to linger between my teeth. But oh my word I'm going bake these muffins every day for the rest of my life.

Please, go out and buy this cookbook, or borrow it from a friend. But not from me, I'm not letting go of this baby for a while yet. Of course, you're more than welcome to come over and bake them in my kitchen. Every single day. Forever.

Sugar Baby

E: Mom, did the price of gas go up?
M: Umm, well I think it's a bit higher since we filled up last.
E: Okay, welI I can give you some of my money so you can buy more gas.
M: Oh, that's okay honey, we have enough money to buy gas.
E: Oh, well, do you need money to buy more things? Because I can give you some if you need it.
M: That's very sweet, thank you baby, but we have enough money.
E: Well, if I give you my money, then you won't have to save any! So you just let me know if you need some money. Maybe after dinner I'll give you a little.

Good Intentions and Bad Judgement

It's sort of my signature. It describes my particular brand of je ne sais quoi. Which explains how I ended up making this for E last night:

A cookie as big as her head. A reward for getting at least 10 magnets on her responsibility chart for the week. Seemed like a good idea, you know, before we were sitting at the dinner table at 7pm watching her eyes glaze over 1/3 of the way through her victory spoils.

Thank goodness she didn't put up a fight about saving half for today. At least someone in this family has common sense…albeit accompanied by a notable deficit in table manners:

Next week, if she gets 15 magnets she gets a bowl of ice cream. Kid sized…not kid's head sized.

Wheels

Did I forget to tell you that I got this beauty for my birthday?

Her name is Billie Jean, and she's my new best friend. She's my first bike in 20 years, and my first time on a bike in about 11 years. I asked for a bike for my birthday, which coincided serendipitously with reading about one of my favourite mom bloggers and her joy ride through Target that culminated in the purchase of her very own bike that would accompany her when she needed to experience a little freedom. Very inspiring.

Now that I've regaled you with tales of coincidence twice in a row, I'm starting to doubt whether it's so much coincidence as perhaps a case of reading way too many mom blogs…but that's a discussion for another time, like never.

Anyhoo.

I considered having my husband film the inaugural ride for possible submission to America's Funniest Home Videos, but my enthusiasm/potential mortification took over and I snuck out for a spin on my own on a brilliant fall afternoon that simply wouldn't take no for an answer.

I didn't fall off, didn't hit anyone, and as far as I can tell did not make a spectacle of myself. I did, however, realize that getting a bike from Walmart will almost certainly mean that you will receive a product that has been poorly assembled by someone who doesn't possess the knowledge/inclination/compensation level to do it well, to which I credit the ability of my bike to change gears all by itself! Fortunately, I have in my arsenal a cyclist friend who generously offered to repair it, and who will receive in return an early birthday cake whose recipe has been lovingly plucked from the pages of my new favourite cookbook. Anyone else out there want to do me any favours? Because I literally can't find enough excuses to make all of this stuff quickly enough.

Am I talking about food again? Holy moly, the end of this cleanse cannot come soon enough.

So back to the point just in time to offer you my final thoughts - I am very excited about my new bike. She makes me feel younger, freer, and more fun than I did before I got her. Provided I do not become another in a fairly long list of cycling casualties in this city, I predict a long and happy relationship for the two of us. And I recommend to anyone who has spent the last decade or two sticking to four wheels for their preferred mode of transportation to take a stab at whittling it down to two. But not on a motorcycle. Those things are dangerous.

Timing is Everything

So, I got this in the mail yesterday:

I pre-ordered it in May, and have barely been able to contain my excitement since confirming my purchase on Amazon. Everything about this book is exciting, right down to the fact that I got it for 46% off of the cover price. I've been scouring it for the past 20 hours, loving every inch of it, planning what to make first, and then next. I know that I can't go wrong with one of Deb's recipes, only very, very right.

In other news, J has been studying like a madman (I just typed "madam" by mistake and really wanted to leave it that way…how does one study like a madam, and could it be done at the dining room table with children running about?) for an exam he has on Monday. He's on lockdown all weekend, and I'm not sure when the last time was that he was spotted without his bathrobe…or freshly showered for that matter.

And then there's my super-clean colon, which is currently chugging along on Day 13 of my cleanse. I'm wicked proud of making it through my first weekend, then Hallowe'en with only one skittle passing my lips, forced upon me by a terrifying devil, and on through the first 20 hours of ownership of that beautiful work of art up there. Tomorrow is my last day, mostly because I feel that two weeks is a reasonable amount of time for this sort of venture, somewhat because I seem to have dropped in weight to pre-adult parameters, which I can't say I'm thrilled about, and also because I'm afraid if I don't bring dairy back into the equation my bones might turn to sawdust.

So I can't help but feel that the universe has smiled on me, what with J's imminent release from the shackles of studying, my imminent release from the shackles of deprivation and the arrival on my doorstep of the answer to all of my culinary prayers over the last two weeks. A celebration is due, and I now have the resources and the inspiration to welcome all of us back to the land of the living with some decadent, home-cooked, love-laden feastery. I just made up that word. I'm not sure how no one could have thought of it before. Oh, wait:

Feastery - A members-only gourmet concierge

feastery.com/

Feastery is an exclusive, members-only website that offers unique experiences and preferred pricing at great restaurants. We're like a gourmet concierge.

Damnit. Well, I like your style, San Francisco. If I needed another reason to visit you one day, I just found it.

Putting the HAPPY in Happy Hallowe'en! A Public Service Announcement

I've always liked Hallowe'en. I mean, who doesn't like Hallowe'en?

Oh, right - this guy: http://finance.yahoo.com/blogs/the-exchange/first-person-thoughts-halloween-grinch-193552862.html

You know what I say to him? Lame. I mean, seriously. There is ALWAYS that person who needs to fight the power, who needs to get all political, or dramatic, or controversial, or contrary…all synonyms, by the way, for LAME. Sure, Hallowe'en is commercialized. Sure, it probably has little to no resemblance to its origins. But here's a question: WHO CARES? Do kids love it? Is it a fun and relatively harmless way to squeeze a little joy out of a dreary fall evening? Does not celebrating Halloween really cure childhood obesity or put Hershey's out of business? And as for having children "mooch" off of their neighbours, give me a break. Aren't we really just trading candy? You bought some, I bought some, we pass it around and now we have lots of different kinds! Diversity! Yay!

I personally feel that one of the best parts of Hallowe'en is the sense of community we get from it. No joke. This year, for the first time ever, we were "ghosted". I first heard of this tradition last year, and got to experience it a few nights ago. Made my whole week. I opened the door to find a bag of candy along with a ghost-shaped note saying that I'd been ghosted by a neighbour and it was now up to me to put together 5 ghost bags and deliver them to other neighbours. Once you've been ghosted, you put your ghost-note on your front door to let people know that you've already been hit.  E and I had so much fun knocking on doors and running away, giggling. If you look around our neighbourhood, they're everywhere. It's awesome.

Also, the parents on our block decided that we would take our kids out to a few houses, and then get together on our porches to drink grown-up punch and give out candy. Sounds to me like a lovely evening. Last year, our first in Ottawa, we met some of our neighbours for the first time while trick-or-treating. And for the love of god, it's FUN!

So as I said, I like Hallowe'en. But I've never gone all out hog wild with it. The last time I dressed up was in my early twenties, and aside from a jack-o-lantern or two, I don't do much in the way decorations. I sure eat the heck out of some candy though. Now, however, having a munchkin with whom to celebrate changes things. I have seen a steady increase in my Hallowe'en involvement in the last 4 years.

This year is definitely my best work. She's a devil, and we had a dry run with the costume at a party on the weekend, complete with face paint by mama. Not bad, right?

Also on the weekend we put up decorations and each carved our own jack-o-lantern, although mine was kiboshed as a result of rottage, and squirrels took care of the other two within a couple of hours. Today, I sent E to school with this for lunch:

And tonight we'll be feasting on this before heading out for candy:

It's fun fun fun, and while I totally get not having the time/energy/inclination to spend hours crafting in the kitchen, I think deciding not to celebrate Hallowe'en in order to support some lofty principle or other is a missed opportunity to relive some of the excitement of childhood and, stop me if I've said this, just plain lame. So, if you haven't already, suck it up, get out there and buy a box of candy and put a smile on some kids' faces tonight. Because I'll tell you what - if there's one thing you can never have too much of, it's smiles. And if you're biggest problem is having an extra box of miniature kit-kats lying around, then count your blessings and quit your bitching.

Happy Hallowe'en!!!!

xo,
M.

Cleansing breaths

Day 6. I've been cleansing for six days now, and I'm pretty proud of myself. I've attempted many cleanses in the past, and the best I've done has been around four days. This time is different in a lot of ways though, and I think I owe my success to the differences.

1. I'm eating. Normally cleanses involve drastic calorie reduction, almost by necessity. Some eschew solids altogether, and with those my success rate hasn't broken the 24-hr mark. I'm not that guy. Others allow more reasonable amounts of food, but are so specific in their ingredients and timing that make sticking to it completely is unrealistic. And you know what that means. "Oh, I didn't get home in time to have my 2 tbsp of almonds…guess I'm going to have to settle for this chocolate croissant. Can't be helped." With this I'm eating whenever I'm hungry, I'm just making sure that I'm selecting from a narrow range of foods. Whatever fruits and vegetables I want, fish, chicken, tofu, chick peas, nuts and seeds. That's pretty much it. So sure, my insides might not be clean enough to eat off of when I'm done, but that's pretty gross goal to have.

2. I'm winging it. I usually start these things after hearing about some great new program that all the cool people are doing. I read all about it, I make all kinds of lists, and hop on the bandwagon with great enthusiasm. But again, the second I find a piece of the pie that doesn't fit (Why can't I find white miso? Is juicing really necessary? Really, NO caffeine?!), then it's only a matter of time before I abandon ship. This time, there's no menu, no required ingredients. I have a smoothies with the produce I have, I make some kind of vegetable soup every couple of days, I eat poached chicken and fish with salads or steamed vegetables, and handfuls of nuts here and there, along with lots of herbal tea after my one precious coffee of the day. Easy peasy! Did you know that peas are good in smoothies? Fact.

3. I'm prepared. What generally happens after the reading and the list making, is the going off half-cocked before even making it to the grocery store. I decide that I'll start right…NOW!…without much in the way of planning or preparation. So I get about 12 hours into it on adrenaline, and if I can get to the grocery store within 24 hours I might last another day or two. But then #1 and #2 catch up to me and once again I'm eating a loaf of bread slathered with butter with an ice cream chaser. This time, I went shopping BEFORE I started. Genius, right? And when I woke up on Day 1, a fridge full of cleanse-friendly food winked at me conspiratorially. Like a wise woman once said, it's about setting yourself up for success instead of failure*.

*Now, it's quite a clever coincidence that this quote was referring to marriage, and how partners should treat one another. It should be noted that my husband, though not one to hop on board with all of my hare-brained schemes or even smother me with praise, is kind of relatively supportive in a "this idea of yours is crazy", "better you than me" kind of way. But he's not an outright saboteur. Which is why I'm having such a difficult time understanding why he would see fit to buy me a cookie on Day 1, bring me home another cookie from work on Day 2, followed by an entire large pizza on Day 4. Not to mention eating ice cream from the carton beside me on the couch. ICE CREAM. I'm not sure where his head is at, but he had better pull it out of its hiding place quick-ish to avoid having it permanently embedded, if you know what I mean. But I digress.

How am I feeling?

Pretty good, thanks. Mostly proud of myself and a little dull around the edges. Surprisingly, the first two days were the easiest, owing I'm sure to the massive amounts of surplus calories leftover from the weekend. Day 3 had me pitted against an unopened box of Girl Guide cookies in my purse and a tantrum-throwing daughter making us late for dinner. I prevailed. Day 5 was the first day that I was away from home all day and had to prepare breakfast, lunch and snacks in advance. No problem. And this is the first weekend. Weekends are harder, mostly because everybody gets that hey, it's a special day - let's eat like farm animals mentality. But I'm pressing on. I'm going to be really happy with myself when I'm through with one week, and I'm thinking of trying to make it to two weeks.

The real challenge will come when the "cleanse" is done and the "maintenance" begins. I want to continue to eat all the fruits and vegetables that I'm eating now. I want to drastically limit starchy/bready things, and keep sweets/desserty things down to perhaps one batch of homemade something on the weekends (that doesn't get consumed in one sitting). I'm hoping that by the end of the cleanse I will feel so fantastic that it will serve as my motivation to continue. Right now I feel sleepy. So I'm going to take it one day at a time. And when that's too much, we'll go with one meal at a time. And as much lying on the couch and sighing as my family will allow.

Stopping to take the pictures

Sometimes things just fall into place. 

I wanted to get some pictures of E in the fall leaves before it was too late. I tried on Sunday, but E explained that she had plans to spend the whole day playing an elaborate game of Peter Pan with me instead. Looking at me apologetically, stroking my cheek she said "I'm sorry, mama. I'm really, really sorry, but we just can't today. Maybe tomorrow." No, I'm not kidding. This girl is a real piece of work.

So I forced a promise out of her that we could do it after school on Monday. But then J wanted to go to the bank, and then he got off early and had to be picked up at picture time, and it looked like it just wasn't going to work out. Again. But on a whim I decided to go for it and pulled into a park that always looks gorgeous in the fall. No wardrobe changes (tutus to school are a current obsession), no primping, no plan. I told E to just run around and have fun and we would follow her. 

Hands down, the best decision I've made all week, maybe all month. 

And in case you thought my baby was still a baby, hold on to your hearts for these two...

I love this kid all the way to the moon and back, one million times. 

Have you ever met a Beautiful Man?

I have a friend. He's beautiful. He once wrote about how men aren't generally described as beautiful, and how he was quite certain that he would never be described in those terms, but I couldn't disagree more. Read his blog, and you'll almost instantly see what I mean.

It is beautiful to read what he writes about his wife and his daughters. What jumps out at you is how utterly immersed they are in each other, and how utterly content they are to be that way. It is beautiful to read what he writes about his job. He finds lost children and helps to bring them home, both metaphorically and literally. It is beautiful to read what he writes about himself. What he describes as awkward comes across as sincere and unashamedly honest.

Some days I can't wait to read his next entry. And some days I can't bring myself to read it at all. His blog has become a barometer I use for myself, to gauge how I'm feeling about myself as a person, as a mother and as a wife. It makes me want to be better. And I don't think I'm the only one who feels this way. This is a man who, from the moment he wakes in the morning until he goes to bed at night, profoundly influences his world.

My husband accuses me of idealizing people that I like. This is one of the most accurate statements I've ever heard about myself. His family, I love and idealize the heck out of them. But that's not the case with Brian, for one reason. He does not give us the chance to idealize him, because he lays it all out, the good and the bad. And the sum total of all of that good and bad, from my perspective, is one beautiful example of a man.

Lean, Mean, Green Machine

Speaking of food…I'm making some changes.

I've had my fun. Eating whatever I want, whenever I want. I believe that food is wonderful and it should be enjoyed. But I also believe that everything we put into our bodies is either helping or hurting, and I think I'd like to do more helping and less hurting.

I'm going to drink smoothies every day. Or at least most days. And every smoothie will have at least one vegetable in it. I'm not going to eat any more sweets…for now. Eventually, I'll come up with some kind of occasional game plan, but if there's one thing I've learned in these 36 years it's that I'm not very good with having "just a little". I'm going to drastically reduce my bread and dairy intake and see if I don't walk around like a bloated potato all the time as a result. I'm going to keep moving.

I hope to have more energy. I hope to feel lighter on my feet. I hope to ward off pesky diseases that can crop up out of a lifetime of feeding myself junk. I hope to be a role model for my daughter and my husband. And I really hope that if I really stick to this, those incessant sugar cravings will go away. I hear that they will. I'm skeptical, but hopeful.

Today I drank this:

And it was REALLY REALLY DELICIOUS, Y'ALL! And I won't even qualify it. It wasn't really delicious…for a smoothie, or …considering it had spinach in it, or …compared to eating sewage. It was just an awesome breakfast, period. And this is coming from someone who had this *also awesome* breakfast on the weekend:

With a side of this:

In case you want to play along with me, here's what was in it:

1 banana
1 cup of green grapes
6 oz of silken tofu (VERY hard to find, NOT in the refrigerated deli section with the other tofu, but in the health food section beside croutons…??)
2 cups fresh spinach leaves
1/2 apple

Oh, come on. Go for it. The first picture, not the last two. Cheater.