On Imperfection + Pumpkin Bisque

Today, let’s get the recipe out of the way first. Why talk about Pumpkin Bisque in March, you may ask. Conversation inside Amy’s brain: "Hmm, that daylight savings thing just happened so it must be nearly spring. Uh-oh, time to start spring cleaning. Oh wait, I don’t do spring cleaning. But shouldn’t we get rid of stuff in the freezer and pantry before we fill it up with produce this summer? Okay, I guess you’re right. What am I going to do with all this stuff on the back of the shelf? I’m certainly not going to make a pumpkin pie or anything. Oh wait, what about that delicious pumpkin soup recipe…"

So folks, dig into your cupboards and see if you don’t also have a can of pumpkin or squash puree somewhere back in there. This recipe is almost instant gratification. Somewhere I have the cookbook the original recipe came from, but all the books are packed away at the moment. I'll try to get back and add it to this post after the move (translation: probably not gonna happen).

Pumpkin Bisque

Saute on med-low heat for 3 minutes, until lightly golden:

• 2 T butter
• 1 garlic clove, pressed

Whisk in:

• 3 cups plain soymilk or low-fat dairy milk
• 1 16-oz can pumpkin or squash puree (do not use pumpkin pie filling, trust me on this one)
• 1 T honey or agave
• 1 T soy sauce
• 1 t salt
• ½ t ground ginger

Simmer on low heat for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Enjoy!

  **********

Okay, now here’s what I really wanted to talk about today: Imperfection.

I drove my daughter to school this morning wearing my robe and pajamas. No one’s hair or teeth were brushed. My youngest did not get any breakfast. Let’s just say it’s one of those days. While I could blame it on having a touch of the flu, what really happened when I woke up is that I sank into the blissful abyss of imperfection. You could even say I was reveling in it.

I hope I’m not the only one who gives in occasionally.

Then a surprise phone call came and I totally lost control of my day. It went from blissfully imperfect to downright chaotic, even absurd in a matter of seconds. You know those days when you keep thinking, “Now where did that body double of mine get off to? She really needs to hustle over here so I can do something relaxing, like take a nice hot bath...” Well, that was the rest of my day until now, nearly bedtime.

But I digress. Imperfection. Yes, that’s what we were talking about. Lately I’ve been reading a book called The 10 Habits of Happy Mothers by Meg Meeker, MD. Setting aside the dumb title, it’s actually quite a good book. I won’t go too much into it, but one of the “habits” she talks about is accepting the imperfections in ourselves and in our lives. And forcing ourselves to stop making comparisons. (e.g. she’s got more kids, she’s a better mother, she’s prettier/slimmer/richer, she has a more supportive family/friend network… unfortunately, most women know exactly what I mean. The ultimate goal of habituating ourselves to make fewer comparisons and improve our self-acceptance is to reduce feelings of jealousy. Jealousy can cause us to make poor choices sometimes. It also places unnecessary, unfortunate barriers between women.

This is something I’ve struggled with for years. Growing up, there was definitely the message that other girls were “the competition.” Even before I knew exactly what we were competing for, there was a lot of comparison, self-loathing, and envy. As I grew older, I became a little better at putting that stuff aside, but it was always a challenge. The habit was just too ingrained. So I developed a tendency to make friends with the guys. Now that was just fine when I was single, but having spent, oh let’s see here, 15 out of my 20 adult years (so far) in the married situation, I’ve found that having guy friends often becomes an issue. A bit of a sticky wicket, as the British say (I’m probably botching that, but oh well.) Occasionally these things work out, but more often than not, somebody’s feelings get hurt.

i hope they don't compare themselves as much as i have...

So I keep trying to make friends with other women. I’ve found it much easier to be friendly with those I have less to compare myself with – i.e. single women, women married but without children, women who are only attracted to other women – I guess it’s just simpler that way. But avoiding friendships with women in similar situations causes me to ignore opportunities for real personal growth. That sounds completely trite, I know. Not to mention New-Agey. Let’s put it in more practical terms: I’m missing out on opportunities to bond with women who might have something to offer that is more directly related to my life right now. And I’m missing out on the chance to offer something useful to them.

It occurred to me that doing a quick catalogue of my most glaring imperfections might be a good first step toward acceptance of them. If I can accept my own imperfections, then I should have less to be jealous about in other women, right? So I made a start. I won’t bore you with the list, especially since I don’t want to fish for any comments on my positive attributes (figuring if you know me and are a family member/friend, you must have identified something you like about me by now!) But I do hope you will also try this practice. For me, making the list was both a humbling and an uplifting experience. Literally like I was brought down closer to the ground; that is, more grounded in reality. At the same time, it also felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders; ah, the lightness of self-acceptance. Uh-oh, getting back into New-Agey territory…

I wish you a delightful day; imperfections, chaos, absurdities and all.

Goodbye Gus + Dinnertime Woes update

At some point last October, we acquired a family mascot. It was a large Hubbard squash which we named Gus. In the excitement of the harvest season, Gus and a number of thick-skinned, variously-shaped squashes graced our kitchen counter. Over the next few months, all of them were subsequently peeled, chopped, cooked and eaten. Except for Gus. Fast-forward to early March.

Have you ever tried to cut into a Hubbard squash? I had only cooked one once before, several years ago when we belonged to a CSA. Returning home one afternoon with our vegetable share, I was unloading the car in our driveway when my hands slipped. Crack! Hubbard squash guts all over the concrete. Accidental dropping on a hard surface turns out to be the most pain-free way to open this type of squash.

Not having a concrete driveway at the moment (today our driveway is a frozen ice rink rapidly becoming a mud trough), I needed another way to tackle Gus if he was going to be eaten before next year's harvest season. So I googled, "how to cut a Hubbard squash," which brought me to this link. As I scrolled down, I found this picture:

The text helpfully suggested purchasing a handsaw specifically for cutting squash and keeping it aside for such instances. Other photos depicted someone wielding a rubber mallet and a chef's knife. At the same time. Not having a pristine handsaw or rubber mallet at our disposal, I turned to a Cutco knife I capriciously bought at some point. It is supposedly designed for cutting into things like watermelons and winter squash, though having used it now many times, I think it's actually best for slicing tomatoes. At any rate, after some grunting and growling and a scary number of close-calls where I almost lost a finger, we eventually got through the sucker. The result was two highly unequal "halves" which still needed to somehow get peeled. Being without a microwave, I stuck the squash in the oven for a half hour until its resistance had been broken down a bit.

And then we proceeded with the one of my favorite recipes, Kaddo Bourani. Baked pumpkin plus sweet tomato sauce plus garlicky-salty-minty yogurt, served over rice-lentil pilaf. (To see the recipe, click on the blue word "recipes" because I'm cross-posting an entry I made on a now-defunct blog three years ago. Hey, there are only so many minutes in a day.)
Be forewarned: this dish is not a 30-minute, one-pot meal. But it's a great one to try if, say, your kids are running around the house with feverish glee because it's a snow day and you just want to hide out in the kitchen for a while. Plus, the deliciousness of Kaddo Bourani easily makes up for all the squash struggle and the time it takes to make it. If I ever get to Afghanistan (hopefully during peaceful times), I will definitely be thanking the good people there for originating this dish - it is truly a marvel of flavors.

************

The rest of today's post is an update on a different struggle of ours: Dinnertime. Over the past couple of weeks, I've identified a few practices that are making for more pleasant evenings in our casa. If you're also dealing with dinnertime woes, hopefully one or more of these tips will help you, too.

1. Let the kids help. Not with the cooking (a sore point for me) but with setting the table, taking turns being the water pourer, etc. It helps them feel invested, and they learn a few points of table etiquette, too.
2. Let them bring their creativity to the table. Super-crafter Sophia adores making unique placecards each night, and is much happier when her favorite doll also has a place at the table.

3. Bring your creativity to the table also. Light a few candles, make the food visually appealing, play some appropriate music (we do a lot of international food + music themes, which always makes me feel like a 50's American housewife serving a poo-poo platter while dressed in a hula skirt listening to Perry Como, but whatever).

4. Encourage formality. Kids love to dress up and dinner is a perfect time to indulge their whims. Though trying to clean tomato sauce off a hand-wash-only princess dress makes me rethink this one a bit. It's good for them to see you taking dinner seriously, too, by not eating in your workout clothes or pajamas even if it's been a long day and you are sorely tempted. And who among us doesn't like the excuse to have a little wine with dinner?

5. Keep it together. You might be tempted to use the one time you are all in the same room together as an opportunity for airing grievances, minutely scrutinizing everyone's table manners, reliving your own childhood dinnertime woes, etc. Now is not the time. Try to enjoy your food and ignore the small child next to you who hasn't brushed her hair in three days and seems hell-bent on knocking the fork out of your hand with her wandering elbow. Little by little, these things will improve.

All that being said, there are going to be good eating nights and bad eating nights. My key insight recently is that if even dessert can't bribe them to eat their dinner, they just might not be hungry. Hmm, not eating when you're not hungry, now there's an interesting thought to consider... nah.