Wednesday, August 25, 2010

What's for Supper?



Here’s what typically happens. 4:00 rolls around, and I have no idea what we’re going to have for supper. I find something to make, hop in the car, rush down the grocery aisles, run home, (child is begging to play instead of cook during all this, by the way), frantically chop, mix, cook, try to keep the dishes up in between. By suppertime, I am exhausted and the food is usually not good because I rushed it and probably forgot steps; no one eats it anyway because they all like different foods and I didn’t plan for that. I get grumpy. No one likes a grumpy mom.


I always dream of weekly suppers that are pleasant, low-stress experiences where one can enjoy family, eat tasty food, and refresh at the end of the day. But those expectations coupled with a mind saturated with food TV programs and cookbooks filled with complicated recipes can become quite a stressful mix. We are a family of distinct tastes, and rarely do I find a meal that all of us truly enjoy. That complicates matters even more.


Tonight, however, everything came together. In the past few weeks, I’ve searched for simple recipes that taste good and are reasonably healthy. Oh yes, and that everyone would eat. And anything that I can do ahead of time – dice vegetables during a break at work, whirl a pie dough in the food processor while I’m waiting for a file to download – would help. Trying to put everything together between my last early evening work obligation and by the time supper rolls around is hard. I work from home, so I keep thinking this should be much easier for me than for folks who work away from home.


So my meal quest for the next few months is to put together go-to meals that I can make easily, that don’t taste like garbage, and that all three of us will eat. And I don’t want to run around all hyped out like Rachel Ray for 30 minutes either. She makes me nervous.


Dinner tonight was tomato bisque, toasted bread with goat cheese, and apples with Nutella for dessert. Very simple. And fairly cheap. I’ll post the tomato bisque recipe below (I think it might have originated from Allrecipes.com, but I cannot say for sure. It’s tasty. Seems like a lot of honey, but it’s not unless you use the kind that’s not processed. Then you might want to cut it down some). I found a good hearty loaf of bread from Fresh Market that is worth the money if we eat it all. Goat cheese is good and cheap from Trader Joe’s. And I figure the apples balance out the Nutella in the nutrition department.


I’m on the search for more supper ideas like this. Easier week night dinners will make year 35 freaking fantastic!


Tomato Bisque

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 small onion, diced

1 clove garlic, minced

3 sprigs thyme

1 (28-oz) can tomatoes

1 ½ cup chicken broth

3 Tbsp. honey

1 ½ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. black pepper

1/3 c heavy cream

2 Tbsp. parsley

In medium pot, heat oil. Add onion and cook over medium heat, about 7 minutes. Add garlic and thyme. Stir until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add tomatoes, broth, honey, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer, stirring frequently, until reduced by a quarter, about 15 minutes. Puree about ½ of the soup (should still be chunky). Return to pot and stir in cream. Heat gently and adjust seasoning. Add parsley.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Run Run Run

It’s been a long time, my friends. I won’t attempt excuses, but I will get you up to speed on how year 35 is going so far. Unfortunately, I haven’t shaken the clichés quite yet.

The latest change in year 35 is a new commitment to running. I am the least likely person to begin a running routine. Running always seemed so torturous, agonizing, just not fun. But one day after reading about a couch-to-5K program (http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml) and realizing that since I already own a pair of running shoes, the cost of this program would be nothing (Did I mention that I’m cheap?), I started shuffling down the sidewalk three times a week.

The sickening heat of summer has slowed me down a bit, but I can usually get in around 8-10 miles a week. I’m no Forrest Gump, mind you, but it’s a start. And I can honestly say that I have never stuck with an exercise program this long. There was a brief interlude with Billy Blanks in the late 90s (remember Tae Bo?), but other than that, I haven’t consistently gotten cardio in since my high school days of volleyball practice.

What I still have trouble with, however, is calling myself a runner. I jog fairly slowly and not far at all. So I don’t really know what one would call me. This refusal to identify has served me well throughout my life. I could easily drop hobbies and plans because I refused to associate with a certain category of people. I only practiced knitting for a few months. No knitter am I! Baking? Yes, I do enjoy it. But you can’t really call me a baker. Do I love Victorian literature? Sure! But don’t call that my area of expertise. I only dabble and wouldn’t want to limit myself.

As I think about this problem with identifying, it seems more like an excuse – a way to skirt the responsibility of belonging to a community of people or remaining committed to a discipline. So just for kicks in year 35, as long as I put on a pair of shorts (oh horrors!) and place one foot in front of the other in a semi-rapid movement along the pavement (at least making it around the senior walkers and small dogs out there), I’ll call myself a runner. Well, maybe jogger.

Discipline with the blogging? I’ll work on it.