A Killer Egg Dish for All Seasons

Every recipe box needs to a "go-to" egg dish. A strata, frittata or bake to get you through the holidays. We hosted Easter brunch for many this year and I was looking for something easy. Something that didn't require last minute work, but would be served hot and wouldn't be bad cold. I wanted something different so I scratched frittata off the list. It also couldn't include too much starch so a strata didn't fit the bill either.

A fast search brought me to this lovely dish. It was the perfect way to highlight the eggs from the yellow hen house and the chives from my garden. It saved the day - or at least a bit of my sanity.

 

The custard came together quickly in the Vitamix and I made it about an hour in advance. Once popped into a hot oven, it was on the table in about forty minutes. Gotta love an egg dish like that.

Special thanks to Doug for having the forethought to ask if I would be photographing before the masses hit the table. Gotta love a guy like that. 

Baked Egg Custard with Gruyère and Chives 

I've added a few of my own notes but it's modified in verbiage only
from Epicurious.com
 

6 oz. Gruyère, grated (1 1/2 c.) 1/2 c. chives, chopped 10 large eggs, pastured if possible 1 1/2 c. whole milk 4 oz. cream cheese, softened 1/4 t. grated nutmeg 1/2 t. salt 1/4 t. freshly ground black pepper Preheat oven to 350°F with the rack in middle. Butter a 2-quart shallow baking dish. Sprinkle Gruyère and chives evenly in the dish. Blend eggs, milk, cream cheese, and nutmeg in a blender with 1/2 teaspoon pepper and 1/4 teaspoon salt until smooth. Pour egg mixture over Gruyère and chives in the dish. Bake until puffed, set, and golden, 35 to 45 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

A Lunch Box Tip

In the last 10 years I've packed a lot of lunches. A LOT of lunches. I take it a bit seriously and always try to keep them interesting. They must include the basic food groups. They can't include anything orange (the it-o family-Fritos, Doritos) or soda but there can always be a sweet (but not of the fruit snack variety).

When the kids reach middle school, they take over the making of their lunches and they must follow the lunch box rules. I still cut-up veggies, bake cookies and make egg salad and the like but they have to assemble and pack. It's an easy step toward greater responsibility needed in middle school. I think it reinforces learning to feed oneself, too. Also, I am sooooo tired of packing lunches.

Occasionally, if I was feeling especially proud of the stock in the lunch kitchen I'd stick a post-it (or  recycled envelope) on the inside of the "lunch cabinet". Not being a morning person, Ella was always appreciative since it takes a lot of thought out of lunch packing.

I made the dry erase frame (from Make and Takes via Pinterest) to hang on my fridge as a menu board/grocery list and I love it. One day I thought "why not hang one inside the lunch cabinet?" Duh.

3-M velcro tabs affix it to the door. A dry erase maker hung from cook's twine might be handy to prevent its disappearance.

 Ella loves it.

And I love that because it's one more lunch I don't have to pack.

Mondays & Rainy Days Past

The following is a blog I wrote last August and then didn't post. I think I decided the picture wasn't good enough. I've since decided I love this memory too much to care about how the photo looks.

~~~

Rainy days don't typically get me down and Mondays are just a new start. The Carpenter's singing the song however leaves me ready to leap.

Yesterday was a rainy day. The rain clouds slowly crept from the west as Max and I finished some errands. The thunder started and accompanied us to Trader Joe's. We made it home only slightly wet and shortly thereafter, it began to pour.

Jake, a perpetual four-year-old, excitedly prattled on about playing in the rain. Henry was the only one up for it. I grabbed the camera.

They followed each other up the sidewalk and around and around the driveway. With bare, white feet contrasting with summer brown legs, they shuffled through the biggest of puddles. It was fun to watch.

Playing in the summer rain is a fond memory of childhood for me. Cool respite from the summer heat. The solitude of feeling like the only one in the world.


I wish now I could remember why I didn't join them. Next time I'll be cool and feeling like the only one in the world, except for Jake and Henry.

Mud Pies, Bread Crusts and Candy Wrappers

One of the things I hold closest are the stories my Grandmother Aileen shared of her childhood. She was a writer and certainly told a good story. There are many but one of my favorites involves mud pies, eggs from the coop, her brother, Aden and his spot on slingshot skills. You can just imagine what her father, Jake, would have done had he known of this in the midst of World War I. It "burned Frieda up" Grandma never got in trouble for that stunt. Nor was she every caught in the act of running her toes on the floor while at school. Mama wondered how she wore through the toes so quickly. Grandma hated her black boots and was angling for another pair. She got them and Frieda silently burned up.


Grandmas was a child with disdain for bread crusts. What's a child to do but stick hers in the underside lip of the dining table? The evidence was only found when table leaves were added and crusts rained down to the floor. Frieda, was quick to accuse but Aileen never got in trouble. More burnin'.

One day while cleaning the breakfast bar, underneath packed into a small opening I found some candy wrappers. Halloween leftovers by chance?

Everyone was quick blame Henry. (and they were probably right)

No one got in trouble.

I took a picture of the evidence instead.

I thought of my Grandma. And then I made a pan of Aunt Frieda's Bars.

After all, family, a sense of history with a health dose of humor and delicious cookies are really the only things this granddaughter needs.

Though a new pair of shoes might be sweet.

Welcome To The Yellow House

Meet the latest addition to the yellow house.

Though he looks exactly like his sister June, is equally hard to photograph and is also a South Bend native....

This is Enzo.  Quiet and thoughtful. A shy and adoring brother. Smart as a whip, water bowl diver. Lover of all things edible....and squeaky.

We can't wait to watch him grow.

Welcome home Little Dog. We love you.

Junie B. - August 2011

Memories in the Grocery Store Aisles

Does anyone remember the Brach's bulk bin in the grocery store? Bins of candy bought buy the pound; as a child the temptation to sneak just one was great. The hope mom would give change to put in the locked metal box allowing you to pick was palpable. Sour balls, bull's eyes, Sunkist jellies, root beer barrels, caramels and Neapolitan.

In the summer, my grandmother would host four grandchildren and there was always copious amounts of ice cream. Not just any ice cream - Neapolitan ice cream. Not usually a favorite of mine but she scooped your bowl to order. Lots of chocolate, some strawberry and a little vanilla. At the end, the cardboard half gallon container had deep wells surrounded by the remaining flavor. Just a really cool thing Grandma's can do that a mother never would. It made the ice cream so much more delicious.

It never occurred to me to make Neapolitan candy but when I happened across a recipe I had to try it. So many of my memories are tied to food (or is it the reverse?) and this candy of acquired taste is a fine example.

Especially fabulous if you are a coconut freak, this candy covers all bases with vanilla, chocolate and er...pink. No mind because its striped results are a tasty blast from the past. With all its assumed kitch, the recipe includes vanilla bean seeds. Classy.

 

Melt white chocolate with sweetened condensed milk and vanilla beans seeds. Be sure to save those pods for the extract bottle or sugar bowl. Once it's melted smoothly, fold in the shredded coconut.

This white love is divided into three parts. One third becomes a lovely shade of pink. The last is flavored with best-quality unsweetened cocoa,

I used an 8x8 pan lined with the wonder-stuff called quick release foil. Chocolate. Vanilla.

Then pink.

After a setting period, it's ready to cut into rectangles and be coveted by old Gen X-ers. My homemade had softer, smoother and more consistent texture. And, just as I recalled from childhood didn't really taste too chocolatey or vanilla-y or pink.

Bummer. In my excitement and Christmas nirvana - I never took pictures of these little goodies cut up and stripey.

But the next time you're at the grocery store, hit up the bulk bins. Don't forget your 33 cents to put in the locked box. They'll look and taste same but with presumably with more filler-crap.

You could make your own by consulting Martha recipe.

Either way, it's worth a walk down memory lane.

Here's What You've Missed...

in the Yellow House.

Henry ate turkey like a champ. Were hoping he goes to sectionals.

Jono turned the big 4-0 and his girlfriend is of age.

Ella caught the baking bug and will most likely be involved in many a bake sale to pay for the bus.

Max is loving the music, picking up choreography tips and discovering new directions.

Jake and his friends are still dorky boys but haven't gotten slushied. No Quinn/Rachel in sight.

Mr. D out did himself with 6 (yes that's a six) turkeys. He's a beast.

June continues to show Cheerio team spirit in the face of maternal torment.

I continue to wash fruit and am, as always, strongly represented by the yearbook staff.

That's how Jennifer sees it.

And that's what you've missed in the Yellow House.

A Honey of a Cookie

I spend a lot of time baking cookies for my kids' lunch boxes. I ask for requests and it goes something like this:

Me: "What kind of cookies do you want in your lunch boxes this week?"

Ella: "Chocolate chips, extra chips"
Henry: "Chocolate chip, lots of chips."
Doug: "Chocolate chip, few chips"
Max "Chocolate chip"
Jake: "Chocolate chip, no chips"

Last week, getting a little crazy in a stay-at-home-mom way, I went against the grain and resurrected one of my favorites. Honey-Oatmeal.

Honey is as near and dear to my heart as are the dear bees producing it. I have always wanted to be a beekeeper and long story short, after one good year, my inexperienced eye sent my bees to a new neighborhood in search of  more living space. I am not yet ready to throw in my veil but until it's time to harvest yellow house honey, I'll buy from the locals.

It's good for our environment, our food system and our personal health. Honey is a great source of antioxidants and a beneficial antiseptic. Think of local honey is an allergy shot increasing your body's ability to fight allergens most prevalent in your neck of the woods. Preventative medicine in a cookie. I always knew it was possible.

By the way, this cheap kitchen gadget is the only way to measure sticky ingredients. Get one.

The recipe is easy and offers stellar results. It can be made without thinking or while talking on the phone, adding to the every growing/never diminishing to-do list or listening to what seems like the 100th time Lance Armstrong visits Elwood City.

If I were a better food blogger, I'd have step-by-step photos illustrating a properly softened stick of sweet cream butter.  Documentation of the technique to utilize for exquisitely creaming said butter and notations on the virtues of weighing flour.

I am not though.

I am just a mom making lots and lots of cookies.

Honey-Oat Cookies
1 1/2 c. sugar
3/4 c. butter
2/3 c. honey, preferably local
2 eggs, lightly beaten
4 c. rolled oats
2 c. all-purpose flour
1. baking soda
1/2 t. salt

Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees.

Whisk dry ingredients together.

In the bowl of stand mixer beat butter, sugar and honey together until fluffy. Add eggs and beat well.

Stir in dry ingredients til combined.

Scoop balls of dough about 2 T. in size onto a cookie sheet about 3" apart.

Bake 9-11 minutes. (watch Francine ride her bike)

Cool on sheet pan several minutes before moving to a rack to cool completely.

Henry's 8th Most Important Picture

We had Henry's party on Saturday evening. Henry requested  "ground beef" tacos. Mommy and Daddy added some chicken, a pot black beans, Spanish rice and lots o' guac. Of course, the ubiquitous chocolate birthday cake I've made for the last um-teen birthdays in the yellow house was served. The chocolate frosting was this one, covering the last um-teen birthday cakes. I am hoping someday, they'll break out of the mold.

Henry thoughtfully decorated his chocolate cake with chocolate frosting using Han Solo, Princess Leila and Yoda picks. Nice to have them in attendance.

And, of course, regardless of what I cake I bake (over and over and over) I am blessed to celebrate each and every one of them.

Happy 8th Birthday, H.D!

Hipstamatic Henry

Though I know I am far behind, I've finally installed Hipstamtic onto my phone. I love old photos - even of people I don't know (check out my website). Making today look vintage makes me very, very happy.

Last weekend, as we approached Henry's 8th birthday, he wanted to lie down with me before going to his own room. Really, who am I to say no? It means he will fall asleep and poor Doug will carry him off to bed - forty pounds of dead weight - before climbing into bed himself.  He is a patient man. As my children get older, my idea of "cuddly baby" gets larger so I make this work. Call it adaptation. After he drifted off, just before the baby snores started, I snapped some pics. (okay, maybe like 20 or 30)

In my mind he's still only two.

The Baby One is Eight

Today is a big day in the yellow house. Today Henry is eight. Today is Henry's golden birthday.

As the baby of the family he is an especially lucky boy. Beyond doting parents there are three older siblings to shower him with the affection, homework help, treats and older friends to admire.

The child fairly always affixed to my hip for the first five years has grown and developed a wonderful personality. He is patient when I want to monopolize his time.

He has a tremendous sense of humor, is wise beyond his years, a silly second-grader and lover of potty humor.

 

His mind works very much like Max's. The wheels are always turning and connections are constantly being made. His math skills are sharp and he loves to read. If you think a work ethic can't exist in an 8-year old you've never met Henry. The first to grab his shovel when mulch is deliver (to anyone), he loves to build things and is always up for home improvement projects.

A miniature Doug, he has a wonderful imagination and amazing capacity to remember movie plots and characters. I can't believe this tiny shadow will every top out at 6'2" like his Dad. Oh, did I mention the mile wide stubborn streak?

I've learned a lot from Henry in the last eight years. He's taught me lighten up and that dirty little boy fingernails aren't such a big deal. I appreciate every moment I have with him, with all of them, in a way I wasn't mature enough to before. Hen is a bit of all of us rolled into one. Sometimes a contradiction. Out going, shy. Strongly attached, fiercely independent. Serious, hysterical. Hard-working, unable to put his laundry away.

On the birthday of our little toe-head, I realize the gifts he's given each of us. A constant companion, a playmate, a kindred spirit and someone to be responsible for.

I've learned they don't always need to be carried, there is time for a game of Zingo before school and vacum-sealed jerky sticks can be a birthday treat. (ugh)

Happy, Happy Birthday Henry!

The Inaugeral Fire

Last fall we broke ground on our outdoor kitchen when a big, beautiful stamped patio was poured outside our kitchen door. Doug designed and has worked diligently to build a beautiful L-shaped kitchen. He always shoots for the moon. His design includes a custom-built smoker, gas grill, plumbed sink, wood-fired pizza oven, wood storage, prep space and a fireplace.

Of course, life gets in the way and every home owner knows how it goes with home improvement projects. Progress was slower than we had hoped but the shell is set, mortared and ready for fire bricks.

A few weekends ago, after a bit MacGyver-like techniques the boys were able to build roaring fire in our almost, sort of finished fireplace. We roasted marshmallow and made s'mores with peanut butter cups.

We spent time as a family sans Jake - he's in high school now. We texted him photos to harass him. Hee-Hee.

We put our feet up on the hearth and enjoyed thoughts of what's to come.

We can't wait.

PS-Last year's weiner roast story highlighted my beer. This year it's my running shoes.

Happy All Saints Day!

The  night before Halloween, giddy with anticipation, Henry asked me where "Halloween comes from." Taking a deep breath to allow me moments to think (all parents have been there before) I was proud, when in the depths of my cob web infused brain, I was able find some Halloween information.

I told the story of All Hallow's Eve and led into All Saint's Day. Gaining confidence, I added the meaning of Trick or Treat. Of course, it was all done in 2nd grade speak - making it far easier for mom to spin a yarn and sound really smart.

This was the first year in 15, I haven't made a costume. Doug and Henry did some shopping to create a Luke Skywalker in black. There is a name for this and I've been told no less than 20 times but it again escapes me. Jedi? Max fashioned a light saber holder and pocket for important space stuff out of duct tape which hung on an old, black belt cut down to Henry-size.

Ella chose to be a hippy. Especially nice since most of her costume will be worn again. Bonus: the hairstyle works with her distaste for styling products, combs, brushes, etc. No need for a mother/daughter Halloween cat fight.

Jake was a 15 year old consuming mass quantities of food. (his friends dressed as the same) Max had multiple costumes, one was a greaser with his new black leather jacket. Because Dad was sick and Mom is lame, Max, dressed in army garb, volunteered to cruise the neighborhood with Luke. Here they are with Jack O' Lantern faces.

Doug, inspired by a slide show on Facebook recreated this amazing lantern. He is truly an artist. After the original tiny pumpkin fell to the floor (a la Humpty Dumpty) he replaced it with a spaghetti squash.

My greatest contribution (besides shopping at Claire's Boutique and making sloppy joes) was June's ensemble. Since I call her "Bug" it seemed fitting to recycle Ella's ladybug wings from her 2nd Halloween. A black tulle skirt completed the look. She clearly wanted to be where the action was. After 15 minutes she forgot she was wearing the bug costume and spent the evening greeting Trick-or-Treaters. I have no shame for my dog-costume antics. It makes me laugh.

The weather was lovely, friends stopped by and there are Reese's Peanut Butter Cups leftover.

I hope your Halloween was wonderful, your costumes creative and that you are able to scam some good stuff out your kids' treat bags when they are at school.

Even saints need candy.

Culitvate Chicago

A month ago, Chipotle hosted its first Cultivate Festival in Chicago's Lincoln Park. We Downings piled in the truck and headed for the big city to catch this awesome event.

It's important to us we give our kids as many great experiences as we are able. This event was perfect since it was based upon the importance of sustainability and allowed us to put it into practice by eating tacos. Also, it was cheap.

They had terrific activities for kids including stenciling an organic cotton t-shirt with chili peppers and pigs.

Beverages were free including all the faves - Organic Valley Milk boxes, Vitamin Water and Honest Tea. For those so inclined there were many local beers and wine to choose from. My date bought me cool beers.

This interactive piece of educational art was designed by the artist in the picture.  So fun to look with all the great illustrations and farming facts, too.

In the specialty food tent were local veggies, sauces, coffee and hand husked coconuts. Though certainly not local, the coconuts where a cool experience for the kids. They had to have one. Okay, I thought it was cooler than anyone and I think I drank most of it, too. (Have you had Zico?)

There were viewings of Fresh and a textile tent. Did you know they are working on all Chipotle uniforms being made of organic cotton? All day long, bands played and local chefs working with local farmers did cooking demonstrations.

We all had a terrific day...together.

Did I mention the tacos?

Little Skywalker's Eggs

Henry is a hard core Star Wars fan. He knows the characters and the plots. He knows which one is number one and which one used to be number one but is now number six. Amazing.

It's fairly typical for there to be many very large Star Wars books around that he's hauled home from the library. This last time, he brought a cookbook. Finally, Star Wars on a level I can understand - or so I thought.

After reading through the book Hen decided he would make Twin Sun Toast for breakfast one morning before school.

He read through the recipe and gathered the ingredients. He decided we should use Lily's eggs since they are smaller. I glanced at the recipe - not really paying too much attention. It's a kid's book, right?

My fancy $5 circle cutter set was pressed into service. These are the sun holes. Junie got the insides.

He pre-heated.

He carefully broke the eggs.

 

He seasoned.

Despite his care and my cooking experience it didn't work for a few reasons. The eggs - any eggs, (even Lily's) are way to big for the holes - if you want it to look like the picture. The instructions don't include toasting one side of bread in the pan before flipping it over to add the eggs. In the picture the top of the bread is very toasty.

After realizing the flaws I overlooked, I told my very sad little Skywalker, I would make it with a few modifications.

Bottom line - it can't be made without copious changes to the recipe for it look remotely like the picture. Kids want expect it to look like the picture. And it should. No cook book should be this way.

When attempting a recipe or selecting a cookbook any cook, should read carefully and thoughtfully, sometimes they aren't right. Sometimes it takes more than once to figure that out. He was so very disappointed. Sad eyes over Twin Sun Eggs are a horrible way to start the day.

We won't make this mistake when we make our R2D2 treats.

Now, is he the gold one or the one that looks like a garbage can?

Memories of Beets

I pickled a big bunch of beets last week. Over the years, I've tried many recipes and have only found one which was exactly what I wanted. I hoarded those jars for 2 years, I think. I don't know where the recipe came from - or anything about it other than it was delicious. I try every year to find it and 2011 was no different. This year's are a bit too cinnamon-y/clove-y so I am going to try another recipe before the local ones are gone.

My sad search for a recipe isn't the point of this post. Rather it's my Grandparents. Grandpa had a big garden and though I don't remember beet upon the table, as I do the tomatoes and onions, I am sure they were there. A grainy snap shot exists only in my mind of my brother and I scrubbing while squatting on the aged concrete stoop outside the kitchen door. It was shaded by the most beautiful maple tree. I took the job seriously then and it's still my favorite part today.

The rest of my story, well, there really isn't one. Simply the memory of scrubbing beets for Grandma.

Ultimately, I think it's a comment on what one remembers. The random and pedestrian locked in frozen moments.  As I grow older, I wonder why they've stuck.

The moral of my un-story? Memories aren't always of Disney Land, electronics and extravagant vacations.

Some times they are just in a pot of beets.

The First Day of School

Where does the time go? I am so far behind I am just sharing the first day of school which was a month six weeks ago. This was a big back-to-school-year so I couldn't not document.

Jake started high school (at my alma mater no less). Can you tell he crammed as much as possible into the last week of summer? Those tired eyes are not an indicator of how excited this social butterfly was to start freshman year.

 This is the first morning in the history of the last 11 years and 2 months Ella has been so bright-eyed in the morning. Our girl's not a morning person. Jake appears to be a bit annoyed by her morning exuberance.

Max escorted his super excited 6th-grade sister to the bus - a big deal for grade school walkers. Max looks more excited, interested in, less pained about starting 8th grade than I expected. I know this is going to be a great year for him.

And then there was one...

 

...quasi-enthusiastic 2nd-grader being forced into smiles by a mother most likely expounding potty humor.

Where does the time go?

Why does it have to go so fast?