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!

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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.

The Things We Put Off + Easy Quiche

Although I am morally opposed to the inordinate waste of moving households every few years, as our family seems to do, there are some clear benefits. For one, it keeps us a bit more in touch with our material accumulation than most folks seem to be. Ever wonder how much all your stuff weighs, just hire somebody to pack it all up and you are sure to find out. Mind-boggling, I can tell you.

Another good thing: every few years, we are forced to confront all those niggling little tasks that seem to get put off. Because when it’s time to pack up your house, staring at you in the face are all those little reminders that you cannot ignore any longer.



Taxes going back to college years - Shred me! Shred me!

 You know what I mean. The post-it on the bulletin board (nearly covered up by other notes) that reminds you to schedule a physical exam. The paperwork lying at the bottom of a pile on the corner of your desk that is needed to transfer your 401k from your last employer. The heap of children’s artwork or vacation photos you developed that you’ve been meaning to frame/archive/send to grandparents. The bags of clothing/household goods in the back of the closet that you need to drop off at Goodwill. All those lovely little tasks we put off, and put off, and put off.


Also, after we’ve moved we have a nice excuse to get in touch with the friends and family members we’ve neglected over the past months/years – people we surely care about, but just haven’t made the time to call or email lately. Hi, how are you? I miss you! What’s new with me? Oh, well, we just moved again, here’s our new address… So that’s another good thing about moving, too.

I sometimes shake my head at how hard it is to make myself do the little things I don’t quite feel like doing. What I forget is how marvelous it feels once I’ve completed those tasks. My psychic (and physical) load is a bit lighter. I have cleared space for other things I’d rather be doing. And more often than not, the task I’ve completed actually benefits me or somebody else, sending good energy out into the world rather than my guilty energy.



Rollover forms I started a year and a half ago?


Lately I’ve been re-reading a wonderful book called “It’s Hard to Make a Difference When You Can’t Find Your Keys” by Marilyn Paul, a psychologist and practicing Buddhist who specializes in helping people become organized. There are some great practical tips in there, but the main value of the book for me is the deeper stuff she talks about. What do my things mean to me, and do I treat them in a way that is congruent with my feelings? (The same goes for relationships, by the way.

For me, getting ready to move this time around has meant confronting old clothes I love that simply don’t fit anymore. And accepting that they are highly unlikely to ever fit again now that I’ve had two children. Taking a big breath, assigning those items their proper place and value in the Universe, and allowing myself to give them away has been enormously helpful in learning to accept my body as it is right now.

1987-88: the glory years.

Likewise for the boxes of school memorabilia. Looking over handwriting homework, report cards, childhood poems and drawings with my children has helped them see me as a person who was once a little girl like them. A few years ago, I gathered up my old math and spelling bee trophies and took a picture of them for posterity. Then dumped them all in the trash. That was a good start, but it took finally going through the various congratulation letters, articles, etc. from my junior high days to finally put into proper perspective the high expectations I've always had for myself but never quite been able to meet. Those expectations have lost much of their power, now that I see so clearly how they were based on a few academically successful years that occurred during a pivotal time in my life.

So it’s all good stuff, taking care of these things we put off. And now I’ll ask you: what in your life have you been putting off? Want to get that great feeling of completing something that’s been nagging at you? To help you along, here’s an easy, impressive recipe for dinner that will give you some time to take care of neglected business while it bakes.

Easy Quiche (for those with absolutely no interest in rolling out pie crust)

Saute together in a little olive oil for a couple minutes:

• 1 onion, chopped
• 1 clove garlic, pressed or minced

Add, then cover on medium-low heat until thoroughly cooked (5-10 min.):

• Several large handfuls of spinach, chopped kale or any other chopped greens
• 1 medium potato or 1 large zucchini or 2 small summer squash or 1/2 of a sweet potato or 1 bell pepper, you get the idea – chopped
• ½ tsp thyme

Kale + summer squash

While the veggies cook, using your food processor to pulse together:

• ½ cup white flour
• ½ cup wheat flour
• ½ tsp salt

Sprinkle over it and pulse a couple more times:

• ¼ cup olive oil
• ¼ cup very cold water

Don't over mix. You want it to be crumbly and not uniform at all. Use a spatula to scrape it up and dump it into a pie plate. Use your fingers to press it evenly across the bottom and up the sides. Don’t worry about making things look pretty if you like the rustic look, but remember that it’s nice to have the crust higher than the filling, so press it right up to the lip of the plate.



Press! Press!



Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Don’t bother washing out the food processor from making the crust. Pulse together in this order:

• 1-1/2 cups sharp cheddar (or Swiss or any other type of) cheese (cut it into large pieces and then pulse in the processor to shred)
• 3 eggs, lightly beaten
• 1/2 block of any type of tofu (break off into large chunks before adding)

 When the veggies are finished cooking, add salt to taste. At this point you can either fold them into the egg/tofu/cheese mixture if you like your quiche a bit chunky. Or if you have little ones and you don’t want them to be able to pick out their vitamins, add the veggies to the food processor and pulse until well blended. Pour into the pie plate and bake on a middle rack for 35 minutes or until well set. 

Cut into slices when slightly cool. Delicious the next morning for breakfast!

Running Late + Dinner Quickie

Before the kids, I was rarely late. Now, I’m rarely on time. Some might say kids are no excuse (these are people without children). I say that when combined, they are roughly equal to 100 pounds of excuses. You folks with kids know exactly what I’m talking about.

just try and make me do something i don't want to do...

So this morning we were driving to school and late as usual. To get anywhere around here means taking the main road, a two-laner with few opportunities to pass. Which means you are at the mercy of whatever or whomever is directly ahead of you. Today that included work on the phone lines. With no shoulder to speak of, our two lanes were down to one. Finally it was our turn to go, but the car in front of me stopped to say something to the police officer directing traffic. A neighbor walking by with his dog paused to join the conversation.

There they were, clearly enjoying their little chat. And there I was, fuming. Feeling embarrassed about bringing my daughter late to school yet again. Knowing we had at least fifteen more minutes of driving between us and the school. Not knowing what other roadblocks we might encounter on our way. I was tempted to lean on the horn. A little prod to interrupt the gabfest.

But as I sat waiting in the car, scrutinizing the faces of my suddenly talkative country neighbors, I realized how precious this moment was. You know, this is a spread out kind of place. Many people live some distance from the next house down the road. That's not really our situation, but whenever I run into somebody I know in town, I know it makes me feel connected and happy. Like hey, I belong here. I feel the same way when I’m driving and recognize someone heading in the opposite direction. I want to wave wildly at them. Hi! I see you! We know each other! Of course everyone else seems to drive looking straight ahead. I guess I’m more of a check out the scenery kind of gal.

It's likely that anyone who has lived in these parts for a long time would probably laugh if they read what I’m clumsily trying to say here. But they shouldn't mock. It was thoughts like these that kept me from letting loose a little extra anger and frustration into the world this morning. In the end, I cranked up the music, waited patiently until we could get moving again, and the girls and I sang along with Earth Wind and Fire for the rest of the drive to school. Note to Self: Next time I redraft my resume, remember to add "mobile dj" to the skills section.

As it happens, we were late coming home at the end of the day, too. Tired, chlorine-saturated kids and no leftovers to warm up for dinner. I resorted to my 20-minute standby: a trio of quickly prepared salads. Quinoa-corn, bean-tomato, greens. Pretty when piled up on a platter, pretty healthy, and pretty tasty, too. It's a little heavy on dirty dishes, but that's what spouses/partners are for, right?

Quinoa-Corn Salad

Bring 1-1/2 cups water to a boil, then add:

• 1 cup rinsed quinoa

While quinoa simmers for 15 minutes, combine in a large bowl:

• 1 cup thawed frozen corn (don't bother thawing if you're not eating right away)
• Juice of 1 lemon
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 green onions, sliced (or a handful of chopped chives or minced red onion)
• Cooked quinoa
• Salt to taste

Bean-Tomato Salad

In a medium bowl, combine:

• 1 can of kidney, pinto, black or cannellini beans, rinsed
• 1 cup chopped tomatoes (if using canned, drain the juice)
• 1 tablespoon balsamic or cider vinegar
• ¼ cup chopped parsley or cilantro (whenever I have a bunch of fresh herbs, I finely chop the stems and keep them in the freezer for things like this)
• Salt and pepper to taste

Greens
In a large bowl, toss:

• 3 cups of kale, shredded into ¼” ribbons, or 3 cups baby spinach, watercress, etc.
• Oil-and-vinegar based salad dressing to taste

To Serve: Spread the quinoa-corn salad in the center of a large platter. Make an indentation in the middle and mound the bean-tomato salad. Arrange the greens around the edge of the platter.

Essential Toppings:

• Something crunchy, like toasted sunflower seeds, walnuts or pepitas
• Something salty, like feta or goat cheese, or olives
• Something tangy (optional), like slivers of roasted red bell pepper or pickled vegetables or slices of sushi ginger
• Something sweet (optional), like sauteed onions and/or peppers, or chopped dried fruit

Starting Again + Dinnertime Woes

A couple weeks on a fast from Facebook and BOOM! Once again, I feel the urge to blog. Though the one-sided conversations in my head were never really tamed by Facebook, status posts did momentarily satisfy my need to share with the world. And unlike on my old blog, fb people quite often respond with comments of their own. Well, how very gratifying!

So, here’s a new twist: I’ll see if I can be active on fb and blog at the same time. Facebook to give me the social interaction I sorely miss, living out here in my isolated rural splendor… and blogging as a way to offload – um, I mean communicate – the thoughts I have that are over the heads of the two little girls who share my days.


Since food and gratitude continue to dominate my existence, I think the old Recipes for Abundance blog title can be kept. Even so, there will likely be fewer recipes and more stories/musings on parenting, partnering and living intentionally. I may throw in a few poems when the inspiration strikes.


**For those of you reading this who put the bug in my ear about restarting the blog, I owe you a big thank you for the encouragement. Even if you were just trying to get me to blab less and write more, I appreciate the nudge.**

I’ll leave you today with something from a book I’ve been reading lately, and the promise/warning of more reflections on this topic to come. The book is called The Hour that Matters Most: The Surprising Power of the Family Meal, by Les and Leslie Parrott. It’s full of lots of useful psychological study factoids, cute anecdotes and parenting tips, but this simple quote is what got my attention the other day:

“Better a dry crust eaten in peace than a house filled with feasting – and conflict.” Proverbs 17:1

Whoa there. I don’t know about how meals go at your house, but eating as a family at our house is often full of tension. Most days, I definitely prefer the time I spend preparing our tasty/all-food-groups-represented meals to the half hour we share at the dinner table, where Stephen and I grimly police the eating behaviors of two squirrely children. This is something I hope to change, but am struggling as to how to do it.

One (childless) friend recommends hiding the kids’ food in the backyard and making them search for it when they get hungry, an option I’m definitely going to exercise in the summer months. But for now they sit at table, bawling with unchewed food spilling from their open mouths, their seats and the floor below them covered in crumbs, their full water glasses knocked over onto the tablecloth. Calgon, take me away… if you have any strategies that make for a more enjoyable dinner time, fire away.