Nostalgia

I tend to look pretty much everything up on the internet. I can't even tell you how many things I look up per week just out of curiosity. Last night, I was researching something or other and stumbled across an interesting idea for any parent to keep in mind. The article I was reading mentioned that people tend to recall events that are unique and/or infrequent occurrences in their lives (I believe the context was that because of this fact, it's not the expense that matters but the uniqueness when planning special outings).

I frequently wonder what memories my children will look back upon with special fondness. After reading that article last night, I think I might have a better clue. Thinking back on my own life, I do realize that nostalgia is a very funny thing. I may not have tons of vivid memories from early childhood, but those that I do have are in fact quite unique. One of my favorites involves my mom ironing while watching Hawaii 5-0 (which, I feel like she did often, but maybe it was actually a one time thing). While she ironed away, I sat in an inflatable yellow plastic raft (that we had apparently just bought and had blown up to test) eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sprinkled over the top. Given the fact that this all took place in our livingroom, it doesn't get much more unusual that that.

As a parent, I want memories like that one for my own kids. Of course, I can't select what they will recall later on in life, but as a stay-at-home mom, I can do my best to fill their young lives with potentially great memories. This is actually the number one reason I chose not to work especially while they're little. And, armed with this new information, maybe I can do a little better at choosing fun/unique activities that they will remember for years to come.

Activities like the pizza making from a few nights ago. Daddy was out of town, and if I know how to do anything, it's bread baking. I don't often make pizza, though they do love it. The other night, I had the appropriate ingredients and offered to let them make their own. They jumped at the chance to dig into the dough. They made the entire pizza dough from scratch themselves. The only thing I did was measure the ingredients and show them the proper way to knead. They had a ball (of dough! hee hee!) and were so proud to learn how delicious their very own homemade pizzas could turn out (and, they were perfect). Just take a look at how yummy they were...

Oh, and in case anyone would like to know...

The recipe for their mini-pizzas was pretty simple. I gave them each a cup of flour, 1/2 tsp salt and 1/2 tsp yeast. They mixed that with a fork and then we started adding warm water. Once the mixture was a little moist, we added about 1 tbsp of olive oil. Then, we continued adding water till the dough was workable but not too wet. When it was a tiny bit sticky we just added a bit more flour to help get the kneading going. They kneaded for quite a while (adding more flour when necessary). This kept them both busy while I breastfed/got the baby down for a nap. When they were done, we let it rise for a while and then rolled it out and added the toppings.

You might notice there is no tomato sauce on this pizza. It was really good that way. It does have tomatoes, but I didn't just chop them up and toss them on there. I used to do that but found that the dough gets soggy in places when the tomato juices are released in cooking. This time, I chopped the tomatoes into chucks (slices would work too) and sprinkled salt over them. I let them sit for about 1/2 an hour in a collander placed over the sink (or a bowl to collect the juice if you want to use it for something else). This got just the right consistency for the pizza. So tasty, and they weren't sautéed in oil, so they'd definitely be lower fat (and, did I mention this was really easy?).

Still in keeping with the feel of nostalgia we've got going here... I made an apron. It took me forever to get it done. I used a man's button-down I got at the thrift shop for a euro in January. It was this shirt originally. I chopped it up to make it into this halter top apron. I can't get away with halter dresses, which are kind of sexy (but picture your grandma without a bra and that's what it'd be like on me), but I can do a halter apron. I love the look of this apron. It feels so very retro and kitcheny to me. I'm going to love it.

And, one last thought on nostalgia before I go. You might have noticed that I tend to take lots of pictures of my kids. You actually only see a small portion of those that I take. I try to select the best so that my family overseas can share the happy bits of our lives here. I took one photography course at the age of 19 (we won't get into how very long ago that was), and I didn't learn as much as I should have. I've got some of the basics down, but I recently stumbled across the text book I had for that class (which I'm almost certain I never actually read). I pulled it out and have begun to study it. I live in one of the most beautiful places on earth (I'm fully aware this is relative) surrounded by four of the most beautiful people on earth (Nope, this is not relative - it's just a fact). They are the ideal inspiration and subject matter for picture taking and have inspired me to improve my photography skills.

What I would really love is to be able to actually take pictures for a living. To get paid for doing something I find that fun would be amazing. For now, I just have a tourist digital camera. It is at least capable of being set on "manual" so that I can control all of its different functions, but I can't change it's lenses or anything fancy like that. I can't afford to go out and buy my dream camera, though, so I've decided to work on my framing and composition until the time that I will be able to afford a new one. Today, Lambchop #3 and I played around with some soft back lighting by putting a sheet over our heads. She found this to be great fun, but it might have been a little hard to snap the shot before she pulled the sheet off (I may or may not have erased more shots than I kept, which is the real beauty of digital cameras). I don't think our efforts were in vain, though (Mom and Aunt Dis and Uncle B, let me know if you'd like these sent via email so they're more printable)...

She's a keeper. That much is for sure.

A Little Pick-Me-Up

It has been pointed out to me that I appeared a little down in that last post. I guess I was, actually, but it has since passed. It's a hazard of the job. Being a stay-at-home mommy can get me down sometimes. I'm pretty much a people-person, at heart, and I need conversation (particularly with adults) from time to time to be my happiest. Last week was a bit difficult in that regard, because Lambchop #2 was sick, and we stayed in most of the week. I was going a little stir-crazy by Friday, when that post was written. I've since gotten out to see the world and the people who inhabit it, and all is good now.

Plus, last night I baked, and how could things not improve with fresh brownies and scones in the house? The recipes both come from a couple of those culinary mystery novels (never heard of that? - it does exist). For me, they actually came from a newspaper clipping my aunt gave me several years ago. It's the first time I've tried either recipe, and they're both good. Why I never made them before is beyond me. The scones have lavender in them. Yum. Very exotic and very Southern. Well, the South of France, anyway. They made a tasty breakfast with my morning green tea. And, the brownies are chewy and moist, and just looking at that picture makes me want to dive in and devour the entire 9"X13" dish of them - with a glass of milk.

I also made fresh yogurt last night. Before this week, I had made my own yogurt only twice in the past. It never set as well as I had wanted, so it didn't become a habit. This week, I made yogurt twice. It was that good. In fact, it was so good that I made two batches the second time around. Lambchop #1 could eat her weight in this stuff and begs for more and more and more. Oh, and did I mention that is without adding any sugar or flavoring to it? A five-year-old begging for more plain yogurt. Now, that's good yogurt. My mother called while I was preparing it, and she sounded very intrigued, or perhaps confused. It made me realize that many people don't know what it would mean to make your own yogurt. It's actually quite simple and not extremely time-consuming. You can mix up a batch before bed and slip it in the fridge upon waking. Aside from washing the yogurt containers, it's pretty hassle free.

Here are some instructions for you to follow, in case you might want to try it on your own:

Ingredients:
-1 store-bought plain yogurt (make it something good with active cultures: an all-organic Stonyfield Farms or Brown Cow or something - the better the store-bought yogurt, the better the homemade one)
-1 liter milk - about 4 cups (I have tried non-fat, whole and lowfat - whole sets up the best, tastes the best and is creamier, and organic sure is nice)
-enough jelly jars (or other glass recipient with lid) to hold yogurt, sterilized
-a couple of larger jars to hold hot water
-2 towels
-1 camping cooler

Start by boiling the milk in a pot large enough to allow it to boil without foaming all over the kitchen (if you're using non-fat milk, you'll want to add some powdered milk so the yogurt will thick, not runny - this is why I prefer whole milk). Bring it to a boil and allow it to foam and boil a couple of minutes. While it's boiling, wash the little jars and pour boiling water over them and their lids. You can let them cool in the sink while you boil the milk (I don't boil my jars and lids to sterilize them, because they just end up white with our hard water - this method appears to do the trick well enough).

After the jars are washed and milk is boiled, go type a blog post or something while they cool. Allow the milk to cool down till it's at about 80F. Our cheese thermometer is still in the old house, so I just tested the temperature on my skin. You can do like you would with a baby bottle and drip some on the sensitive skin of the inside of your wrist (keeping in mind that body temperature is 98.6F). [edited to add: I just took a look at Liz's tutorial and saw that she likes it at 116F when she adds the starter - surely she has a good reason for this. I wasn't using any sort of recipe when I did this, which is probably where she got her temp from, but it did work at some temp slightly cooler than 98.6F.] When it's cooled enough, add the store-bought yogurt (Liz also put in 2 tbsps - I'm sort of an inexact cook, in general, so...). I just used the whole cup of it (not a measuring cup - but the cup it comes in, which was 125 g or 4.4 ounces), but with some American sizes for yogurt cups, you could probably go with half or less. Stir the yogurt into your milk with a wire whisk. Then, pour the milk into each little jar you have prepared. Seal them with their lids, and place them in a cooler you have put a towel in (just folded in the bottom of the cooler is fine).

Then, pour some boiling water into the larger jars and seal them. Place them in the cooler with the yogurt jars, lay a second towel over the top and close the lid. Slide your cooler out of the way, so no one trips on it. Go to bed, get your 7-8 hours of beauty sleep, and wake up bright and early to slip them in the fridge. It takes them about 7 hours to set up nicely, so sleeping is a wonderful activity for the waiting period. It keeps you from getting curious and opening the lid to check them. This causes the cooler to lose heat, which isn't so great, since it's needed to make them set up.

Next time you make your own yogurt, you can use some of your last batch as the starter. When you notice your yogurts getting a funky taste (maybe a little more sour than usual), you'll want to buy a store-bought one to start your next batch.

Note: I have to thank Liz for her idea of putting the towels in with the jars full of boiling water. The other method I had previously used (and read online somewhere) was to submerge them in hot water that you've poured into the cooler. This did not maintain heat nearly as well and was messier (I had to open the cooler from time to time to add more warm water). Liz's method was very hassle free, and with my electric kettle, it's all very quick.

Now that you've seen how it's done, you're probably wondering why on earth one would go through the trouble. Well, for starters, this yogurt is delicious. Plus, you know exactly what you put in it. Can you say that about every store-bought brand? You can also vary the flavors to your liking. Put a little of your favorite sugar-free jelly in the bottom, if you want. That way, you can get the sugar-free yogurt you want without the bizarre chemical sugar substitutes you don't want. I'm planning on cooking some banana to mix in on the next batch (I've only ever tasted banana yogurt with YoBaby, and it's delicious but a little too sugary for my taste). For that, I'll start by trying it with one cooked and puréed banana per liter of milk and mix it in with the store-bought yogurt. We'll see how that goes and adjust the amount from there, but we usually just drop a teaspoon of jelly or honey on top and stir.

Now, let's talk money. I've thought this through, and it's quite a money saver to make your own yogurt if you eat it frequently. We do. The kids love it, and we're always running out. We've always got milk on hand, though, because they sell it in that long-life packaging that doesn't need refrigerating here. So, in a way, it's even more convenient. But, what about price? Is it really worth the time it takes to make it?

Here, it costs about 2.00 euros (or even higher) to buy four cups of organic yogurt. Eight of them equals a liter (it's hard to get it in large containers - they mostly sell the single serving cups). To buy a liter of organic milk, it costs about 1 euro or so (but can be as high as 1.20 euros). After that first batch, when you're using your own yogurt to make new batches, you're only counting the price of the milk (it'll be a little more for your first batch). So, purchasing a liter's worth of organic yogurt is about 4.00 euros, whereas a liter of organic milk is about a quarter of the price. Per liter, you're saving about 3 euros. It takes maybe 20 minutes in terms of working time to make a batch of homemade yogurt. So, if you made three batches on three different days, you'd have worked an hour, but you would have saved 9 euros.

If you eat a lot of yogurt, like we do, it's in your best interest to make 2 batches at a time. It probably adds 5-10 extra minutes onto your total prep time to do so. So, making it twice, you've spent a maximum of 1 hour to make 4 liters (about a gallon) of yogurt. So, you spent about 4 euros for the milk instead of the 16 euros you would have shelled out to buy those four liters of yogurt. So, there you're saving 12 euros an hour or more. I've worked many a job where I made less money per hour doing something less interesting with my time. So, for me, it's well-worth the effort for such a tasty end result.

I can't find any pricing information on non-organic yogurts, but experience tells me that you could easily make the organic yogurt yourself for the price of plain, non-organic yogurt at the store - probably even a little cheaper. So, you're upping the quality and lowering the price or at least keeping it the same. Seems like a good deal to me.

Reminiscences

The other day, I had to pull out the big guns. The high drama had begun and something had to be done. Lambchop #1 was having a fit, and anyone with a five-year-old knows that nothing gets rid of a good fit better than a great poop story. And, I just happen to have one in my repertoire of childhood mishaps, blunders and general embarrassments (incidentally, the cookie picture above has absolutely nothing to do with the poop story).

So, should I start with the poop story or the cookie? It's a hard decision to make. On the one hand, I'll gross you out after having talked about a delicious food item. On the other hand, I'll make you never want to eat one, because all you'll be thinking of the whole time you read about the cookie is the poop I disgust (hee hee - I mean discussed) earlier. Tough one. Maybe I shouldn't be talking about these two items in the same post. But, hey, that's the way the cookie crumbles some times. I guess I'll go with option number one and start with the nasty and end with the tasty.

The following is the story that instantly came to mind when my eldest child was having a crying fit (the reason for the crying fit was completely unrelated to the subject matter you are about to read):

I must have been about 9 years old at the time of "the incident." Not a care in the world, unless of course you consider crippling discomfort caused by my starting puberty a little earlier than the other girls to be a care. On second thought, let's say "not a responsibility in the world" instead. That works pretty well. We had been sent out to recess. I was actually allowed to go out, despite the fact that I frequently spent recess indoors writing fun phrases like "I will not talk in class." over and over again (I know, in reading my verbose prose, you have trouble believing I could ever have been punished for talking too much.).

Many of the kids were playing chase. I joined in and ran until I was flush in the face and needed a break. Then, I stepped backward out of the game area until I felt the cold, red brick of the school building against my back. Slowly, I slid down the wall until I was seated. Several moments later, I noticed the distinct odor of dog poo. I looked around, not yet in a panic. No sign of the offending odor-causer. Surely, it was my imagination. It wasn't until the bell rang, signaling the end of recess, that I realized what I had done. I don't think there's any suspense here. You know why I could smell but not see the poop.

Naturally, I was horrified. Not only was my backside covered in a not-so-appetizing-substance, but I also had to make my way back to the classroom with said not-so-appetizing-substance slathered across the seat of my pants - for all to see (or smell, as the case may be). Come to think of it, horrified doesn't quite describe what I felt at the moment. The time it took me to make it over to my teacher to sob out my story is a blur. I cannot even really tell you how I was able to get to her. Was I discrete? Did I run screaming? I don't recall. What is very clear in my mind, however, is the time I spent in the chair-desk in the hallway across from my classroom, awaiting the arrival of my mother with a new pair of pants. As opposed to allowing me to marinate in the dog poop, I was given a jean jacket from the lost-and-found bin to use like a wrap skirt until my mother arrived. So, there I sat, eyes wet with tears, wearing someone's cast-off outerwear. Once again, I spent my time separated from the other children. Not to write out 100 sentences meant to teach me better control of my mouth, but to spare me the humiliation of being seen in my make-shift skirt with the lingering odor of doggie doo floating in the air around me.

Dry your tears. I know you're crying for that sad girl of yesteryear. Go ahead, get a Kleenex and wipe your eyes. Blow your nose a little. Make that loud horn noise if you need to. Oh, and stop the laughing and rolling around on the floor while you're at it. Yes, I can take you laughing at my expense. Why not? My very own flesh and blood - the fruit of my loins - does it. Why shouldn't you?

There you have it. One of Lambchop #1's favorite stories, which is why, in a pinch, when I really needed to stop the crying fit, this story came to mind. It just popped right up. I'm not even sure why. I've got a better poop story to tell. And, that's the one she usually gets (surely, I'll share it with you another day), but the other day, this is the one I thought of first. Just threw it right out there, prefaced by, "Have I ever told you about the time...?"

I hope you can now see why I chose to post a cookie picture. I know people generally like to see pictures with a post, but somehow going out next to the dog's house outside to snap a little shot of her "business" didn't seem appropriate. And, now, not to leave you with a bad taste in your mouth (sorry, bad choice of expressions there), I'll tell you about the cookies I made last night.

I like to make homemade snacks for the kids. All of their little friends show up to class with quite an assortment of prepackaged, chemical snacks (surely loaded with the cotton seed flour we talked about in yesterday's post). In contrast, I often ship them off in the morning with a piece of fruit. I was pleased to know they were eating well until I was told by one of the teacher's aids that some switching was going on. One day, Lambchop #1 loudly declared that she was fed up with apples (my quickie snack of choice at the time). The little boy next to her was all too happy to exchange his hydrogenated oil-laced cookies for her organic apple (yep, apples were apparently a rarity in his diet). I figure it's not going to kill her to have an occasional nasty-snack in a foil wrapper. I would like to limit it, though. So, I try to make them goodies that can proudly take on the store-bought cookies in a snacktime brawl. Problem is, I often end up eating them while the kids are at school. But, whatever. My heart is in the right place.

Yesterday's cookie recipe was the "Chocolate Chunk Oatmeal Cookies with Pecans and Dried Cherries" from the May/June 2005 issue of Cook's Illustrated. I happened to have all of the ingredients on hand and threw together a batch last night. One word. Tasty. And, since I can never just stick to one word (Hello. I'm the little girl stuck inside at recess writing sentences, remember?), I'll tell you a little more about them. The one in the picture is from the black-painted cookie sheet, so it's a little over-done (don't use dark cookie sheets unless you want your cookies burnt). And, it's still good. I would have to say there are a few too many cherries in the recipe. I think it could have done with a little less sugar, as well, but that's just me. Not a particularly complicated recipe, and the taste is certainly worth whatever trouble is involved in making them. They appear to hold up nicely, too. So, they shouldn't crumble even when only wrapped in cellophane (yeah, I know, that's not very eco-friendly - nobody's perfect. Any suggestions for eco-friendly packaging of school snacks?).

Oh, and there's a moral to this story:

If you think your children are faithfully eating the exotic, vegan meal you send them off to school with, well... you can go on believing that, I guess.