Tag: Food

  • Doomsday Dinner Preppers

    (This has nothing to do with Doomsday, or Doomsday Preppers… I just like the way the title sounded.)

    Not that anyone is keeping score, but I am a stay at home parent, and, by the way, I really do enjoy it. But that’s not what this is about.

    As the primary care giver to my daughter, that means I am the go-to guy when it comes to getting her to soccer practice after school three days a week. It’s not a huge burden, and though it can be dicey getting to practice on time, it’s a good way to spend some time with the kid. But as the primary care giver, that means when we get home, I also have to get dinner going.

    Which brings me to prepping diner for my family. I’m not talking about anything complicated here, just getting all the ingredients ready ahead of time, sometimes in small efficient containers, so when we walk in the door, I can start making it.

    I have been doing this for a couple of weeks now, and I have to say that I get such a feeling of satisfaction of sweeping into the apartment, seamlessly moving into the kitchen, beginning dinner, chatting with the wife when she’s off’a work, and having everything ready within thirty minutes, give or take. I’m like John “Hannibal” Smith – “I love it when a plan comes together!”

    (Sorry if you are looking for dinner prepping tips… I have none other than buy more small ramekins.)

    It’s having the ability to reliably and dependably provide food that my family wants, night after night. It’s about making people you care about happy. And we can sit around the table and talk and connect, and be together.

    I know that I am not breaking new ground here, but I am a little surprised at home much I have come to enjoy cutting vegetables and measuring out herbs several hours ahead of time.

    I didn’t know I had it in me.

  • Good Ol’ Vermont

    We got away for one last Summer trip over Labor Day Weekend, and this is something that we never do – travel over Labor Day that is. In fact, this might be the first trip I ever did on this weekend. Most of the time, we are in the City, and do something in Central Park, or most often, we don’t do anything.

    This year, we got an invitation from friends in Vermont to come and visit them, and it was hard to pass it up. I love New York City, but there is also something great about leaving New York City, especially when it’s hot out.

    We made the most of our short amount of time. Got on the road early to beat the crowds, and really, once you get past Springfield, MA, it’s like you are just driving in the woods. And the further north we went, obviously, the cool it got. This allowed me to do my most favorite thing in the whole wide world, which is wear a sweater in August. I might have been sweating a little, but it was in the 60’s and that was good enough for me.

    But in all honesty, it was nice to be in a place where it was cool at night, with crickets chirping, and the stars all above. It was fun to have the kids playing and the adults talking in the next room. There was morning disc golf and an afternoon hike to a hidden waterfall. Even got some swimming in, which the kid liked.

    And as we drove home, we noticed that the very tops of the tress had started to change color. Little specks of red, yellow and orange were beginning to show up. As if right on cue. As one season ended, we could see the other one about to enter.

  • ODDS and ENDS: My Head Hurts, (Place Holder), and SOUP!

    (Revved up like a deuce…)

    I didn’t sleep well last night, so I know that’s the main reason, but man, my head hurts. On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being barely there and 10 being the worst pain imaginable, I would say I am at a 2. But the pain in behind my left eye, going up the left side of my head and ending at the back of my skull. Usually, when I get pain behind an eye, that is the red flag of a migraine. But like I said, the pain is low and that leads me to believe that this will become a dreaded migraine. In fact, it’s been years since I had one. I used to get migraines a handful of times a year, while normal headaches would happen at least once a week. You might find this hard to believe, but this would happen to me back when I was working a normal 9 to 5 job. I think it had everything to do with stress, and now I don’t live as stressful of a life, but there are still stresses.

    (Place Holder for a good idea)

    You know who loves soup? Me and my wife. You know who hates soup? My kid. You know who is willing to try any food you put in front of them, except soup? That is also my kid. I find this so confusing about her. I’ve asked her often, what is it about soup that you hate? And she just says, I don’t like soup? But she likes ramen. She loves when we make a Japanese hotpot at home. She loves getting pho. But soup. Even a normal basic chicken noodle soup, she hates. And this hatred for soup has been growing. The kid won’t touch a stew, or gumbo. My friend made a really great gazpacho the other day, and she refused to try it. The wife and I are getting a little worried as we are getting closer to Autumn, and we have soup plans. (And I realize how funny and odd that last sentence was.) There’s a clam chowder I want to make, and the wife has her eye on a couple of different French stews that she wants to try. We both found a mushroom soup recipe that we want to try, and I found a video of a Japanese vegetable soup that think would be perfect for a cool Fall lunch. I mean, we are going to move forward with the soup plans, I just really don’t want to leave the kid behind, nor turn her off to the idea of soup for the rest of her life. You know, like how people who ate too much canned tuna as a kid can never have anything with tuna in it, no matter how well prepared it is. I don’t want that to happen to the kid. But… soup. SOUP!

  • ODDS and ENDS: Ravenous Day, Cooking, and Don’t Be an Angry Old Dude

    ODDS and ENDS: Ravenous Day, Cooking, and Don’t Be an Angry Old Dude

    (Sweet Dionysus
    She never really liked us…)

    I was hungry all day yesterday. And I mean all day; morning to night, and then again this morning when I woke up. I remember that back in my twenties this would happen to me often enough to name this affliction – A Ravenous Day. On these days, no matter how much I ate, or how often I ate, I would never feel full or satiated. Yesterday was A Ravenous Day, and I did my best to handle this situation in the healthiest way possible, but fruits and veg wouldn’t cut it. I tried salty, but that wouldn’t end it. I tried sweet, but that seemed to make everything worse. I even tried cold pizza at 2am. Nothing worked. I stayed hydrated, and out of the heat, as if that had something do with it. I am bottomless pit.

    I really love cooking for my family. Even with the kid at camp, and it’s just me and the wife, I want to cook for her. I tried Thai fried rice and spring rolls the other night. I had never done it before, and I thought I should try. The rice turned out well, but my ability at rolling rolls was very much lacking. More practice is needed. It was fun for me to try something new, and in a sense, fail at it. I like the idea that the kid is going to come home from camp, and I will have this new meal for her, and it will be something that she will like. But that feeling, of knowing that I am going to make a food that she likes, that we haven’t made at home before, gives me a feeling of providing for, and taking care of her.

    I refuse to be an angry old dude. Anger will not be my driving emotion. I will not be bitter about how my life has gone. I will be a happy silly old man. I’ve met a few in my life, and I aim to be like them.

  • The Age of Dinner Parties

    The Age of Dinner Parties

    The other day, the kid was asking me and the wife lots of questions of what our life was like before she was born. It’s a fair and very good question, or more accurately, questions that she was asking us. The wife and I were together for nine years before the kid was born, so we had a good amount of time of being a couple before we became a family.

    As I reminisced about our past life, it dawned on me that we had a very unique period of about two years, where we host other couples at our place for dinner parties. And on the flip of that, we were invited over to several couples dinner parties. It was a very specific time of us and all of our friends, as we were entering our thirties, beginning to be established in careers, all in committed relationships, but we weren’t married yet and didn’t have kids. I mean, as soon as people started getting married, kids weren’t far behind, and then some started moving out of the City.

    I still have a Spotify playlist for one of our dinner parties from long ago.

    It was a fun time. Usually we hosted on a Saturday night. The wife, at the time the girlfriend, would come up with the menu and I would shop for it over the week. We’d do some prep on Friday night, and most of that would be the making of the desert. The wife was the chef and I the assistant. My strength was in cutting veggies, and making drinks. The wife did the heavy lifting for the rest of the food. We made a really good team in the kitchen, and by the time the other couple arrived, I only had the entertain for maybe 30 minutes and then we were eating.

    The other side that I miss was the conversation. Most of the time, it always started off the same way. When the guests would arrive, we’d talk about what trains they took to get to our place, and transit in general. Next we’d sit for the meal, and the conversation would move to food; either on cooking or places we’d eaten at recently. By the time desert came around, people had a drink or two, then things got really fun. People would tell stories, or experiences they had, or a friendly debate would occur. It was the moment when we started really getting to know people, who they were, and how they worked.

    I remember that after one particular fun and engaging dinner party, me and the wife high-fived after the guests left because we were so excited and proud of ourselves for hosting such a good evening.

    But things changed, and having an adult evening over at someone’s place, only adults, is a pretty rare thing now. I’m not complaining, because it was a moment of our lives that existed for a very specific time, and place.

    Just hadn’t thought about it in a while.