Substantial substance.

I cannot find the list of resolutions I had made for myself this time last year, but I remember the big ones. Some were carried over from the ones I had made for myself in December 2006. For instance, have baby number two by year's end. Or permanently lose ten pounds. I'm going to continue the tradition of rolling those over into my 2009 resolutions. But now that I think about it, those two goals are pretty much mutually exclusive, no? 

One successful resolution from 2008 was to read one book of substantial substance a month (the repetition serves to emphasize just how serious I am about substance). Well, I was succesful for the first four months. Then the craziness that tends to accompany big life changes happened. From April on I was lucky to read one book of non-substance every three months. I label the resolution a success, however, because the first four months were so enjoyable--and I discovered a new favorite book. Middlemarch. Not for the faint of heart (or eyesight), but oh. my. gosh.  Upon rememberance of this absolutely stunning tome my heart swells, tears spring to my eyes, my knees get weak....and having run out of cliches to spout, I will just give it my highest recommendation ever. 

So my list for 2009 begins. Thus far it includes a reread of both Odyssey and Iliad (only because I know it will be good for me), Don Quixote (again, it will be good for me, right?), and a big, fat Dickens novel (because the older I get the more I love his movies--errr, I mean his novels). 

Help?

Christmas detox.

We are beginning to recover from Christmas. The sugar high is waning. The new toys are feeling commonplace. We're sick of ham. And the light FM station is playing "Have you Ever Really Loved a Woman?" again.

It was another memorable one, full of:

Movies.

Naps.

The putting together of presents.


Action!

Food.


Yawns.

Taking pictures.

Family.

Wonder.

Hope yours was as wonderful as ours.

Christmas food traditions part deux (plus a story of courtship).

I met Allan six years, one month, and two days ago. I was sitting on the couch in his empty apartment, the other of his five roommates gone. How I got there is a long, rather uninteresting story. But in walked Allan, ducking under every doorway and light fixture in all of his 6'6 glory. He remembers what I was wearing (red plaid wool skirt with black riding boots) and I remember his olive green wool knee-length officer's coat. It was pretty much crush at first sight/conversation. All the key elements were there: culture, class, and dry humor. Oh, and he had served a mission in Germany.

Sigh....

We started dating two months later. I started learning more about jazz music and Jazz basketball. I introduced him to the good U2 albums and rare steak. It was a match made in Happy Valley heaven and we were married six months later in the Salt Lake Temple.

Shortly after our wedding Allan introduced me to some favorite German fare. A year after our wedding we travelled to Germany and Austria and partook of the most delicious food I've ever had in my entire life. Why food from this region does not get more foodie recognition is beyond me. I'm seriously baffled. If you love meat and bread....oh, baby.

I make a few things in my own kitchen now. Among my favorites is Rotkohl, a red cabbage dish.

The first time I had this I could swear my mother had made it before. But she says she never did. So apparently I'm having flashbacks to pre-earth life when Allan and I would dine together in the "Future Americans with Germanic Tendencies" cafeteria (I am fully aware of the doctrinal disconnect, but give me a break, there really is no other explanation).

I make this every single Thanksgiving, Christmas (along with the previously praised cranberry chutney), and Easter.


Red Cabbage (Rotkohl) 

Serves an army.

1 large red cabbage cut into fine strips (a food processor makes this easy)
1/4 c white vinegar
1/4 c white sugar
1 Tablespoon salt
4 whole cloves
2 bay leaves
2 apples, cut fine (again, food processor. or not.)
2 strips of bacon, cut fine

Start this in the morning. Without adding any additional liquid bring ingredients to boil. Cover and simmer for about five minutes. Turn off heat and leave lid on for several hours. Repeat boiling and five minute simmer process 3-4 times throughout the day.

This tastes even better if made one day ahead.

The Santa myth.

Given that our three-year-old is already totally pumped about the materialistic facet of the Christmas season, Allan and I have had to make a decision regarding Santa Claus. Do we encourage a belief in Santa? Or do we immediately approach it as a fun but make-believe Christmas tradition? Our parents took opposite approaches from each other, so both sides of the argument have been adequately explored in our familial debate.

Yesterday a wonderful article appeared in the Taste section of The Wall Street Journal. The author, a popular family and faith blogger, talks about his reluctance to reveal the truth about Santa Claus to his doubtful eight-year-old son.  Citing a recent study, he discusses how puzzled researchers are that most children are not troubled upon finding out that Santa is a myth, and while they abandon a belief in Santa, they continue to believe in God. He bases his reasoning on the opinion that too often we deprive our children of the belief that there is magic at work in the universe. The world is quick to label anything that cannot be rationally explained, including religious belief, as being unscientific and therefore false. As parents, we are responsible to cultivate wonder and belief in our children, and the author believes that telling stories of Santa Claus helps pave a path to solid faith in what he calls "the ultimate Fairy Tale." He quotes G.K. Chesterton, who wrote regarding his finding faith in God, "I had always believed that the world involved magic: now I thought that perhaps it involved a magician." 

Whether or not you agree with the argument, it is a fascinating and inspiring topic. Again, from Chesterton, "I left the fairy tales lying on the floor of the nursery, and I have not found any books so sensible since." The thought that we have a responsibility to preserve child-like wonder in our offspring made me want to weave more tales of mystery and magic for my bright-eyed son. For our family, this will include building up the story of Santa Claus, making it as exciting as possible. But we will focus on the beautiful story of Jesus Christ and his miraculous gift to us that goes beyond anything that we could touch, taste, see, hear, or smell. 

It is a glorious wonder.

Way better than a can-shaped glob.

I've never been a fan of the cranberry. Cranberry cocktail still makes me pucker. Craisins...meh. Canned cranberry sauce? Don't you dare come near me with the stuff. For the longest time I considered the cranberry to be something I could never hope to enjoy (much like grapefruit).


Then Thanksgiving 2005 came around and changed my life. I had my first taste of my cousin-in-law's mother-in-law's cranberry chutney (did you catch that?). Sweet, but still tart enough. Warm and spicy flavors. Cozy texture. Perfect with turkey and ham. Perfect on a roll. And straight off a spoon. Or fingers.


It is now the third year in a row that I have made this for both Thanksgiving and Christmas.


I've never met my cousin-in-law's mother-in-law. I have only seen her on television. You likely have too. She is the Concertmaster of the Symphony on Temple Square (i.e. the first of the first violinists). Make this over the weekend. That way when you cozy up with your family to watch "Christmas with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir" on PBS you can share in my yearly tradition of saying to the television, "Thank you, Meredith. Your cranberry chutney has changed my life."


Cranberry Chutney

2 c sugar
3 to 4 small oranges
4 c fresh cranberries
1 cup chopped, unpeeled apples
1/2 c golden raisins
1/4 to1/2 c chopped pecans
1 T vinegar
1/2 t cloves
1/2 t ginger
1/2 t cinnamon
1/4 t nutmeg
1/2 c orange juice

Using a sharp knife cut the peel off the oranges (don't leave any of the white pith).

Combine all ingredients in pan

Heat to boil, reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, until cranberries
burst.

Cool.

Makes about 8 pints. That's a lot of chutney, even for me. However, the good news is that this freezes very well. You can also make this 2-3 days in advance and keep in your refrigerator.

They're so charming when they're exhausted.

Taken at 4:55pm PST on Sunday, December 14th.

Taken at 5:32pm PST on Sunday, December 14th.

He slept thirteen straight hours.

The season of stress.

I always considered anyone who did not count Christmas as the most magical time of year to be completely nutso. Off their rocker. Devoid of all worthy human sentiment. Then came this season. 

It's been coming for a while.  My mental state has been neither sharp nor cheerful as of late.  The other evening while driving to pick up Allan from the office, Jack started fake crying. I asked him what was wrong and he replied, "I want to  make my mom happy." That was humbling. I had been a sad sack all day long, and while the occasional jolt of Jack cuteness does wonders for my normal mid-afternoon slumps, his magic was not doing the trick that day. I explained it as "Do you want to know what makes me happy? When you are obedient, and when you listen to me the FIRST time I ask you to do something" And then I burst into tears. Yeah, I'm sure that made him feel great.

What I really wanted to tell him was, "I'm STRESSED out!!!" I have a Christmas letter to write, addresses to get, goodies to  make, presents to buy for associates, staff, a boss, a husband, and an alarmingly specific two-year-old. I have a house that needs some serious cleaning, parties to go to, musical numbers to practice, and a serious lack of any good Christmas CD's to get me in the mood.  Certainly this is the typical Christmas workload of the average American mother, but for some reason I'm quite ready to move onto Valentine's Day. 

Out of fear that this Christmas will pass me by without feeling any of my typical falalalalaaaa, I'm begging you for suggestions. I need some help getting out of my funk.  Getting my Christmas groove back, if you will.

The fact that I like arugula does not make me a Liberal.

I've had a seriously full schedule these past few days: 48-hour case of stomach flu, weekend in Oakland for niece's baptism/visit with in-laws, re-stocking a depressingly empty refrigerator and pantry, taking car in for the previously mentioned $650 repair only to be told it would now be a $1200 repair. Therefore, quality internet time has been lacking. And since my head is full of useless thoughts such as "is it really necessary to have a working air conditioner in our car?" or "Wow, the price of gas has gone down, but the price of cottage cheese sure hasn't!" I don't have anything with which to dazzle you--except the fact that the other day I literally wanted to munch on my child. Don't believe me? Just get sick for two days, let him watch Sponge Bob Square Pants in his underwear for obscene amounts of time, and then see him come in to your bedroom where you're writhing in gastrointestinal discomfort, plant a big wet kiss on your forehead and ask, "Are you unsick yet, Mom?"

That doesn't make you want to munch on my child?.......Hmm.

How about munching on arugula then?


Yeah, that picture probably isn't going to do much for you. My camera is incapable of taking tasty pictures. Or perhaps I'm the one lacking, but either way, I promise you this was good. I feared it would fall into the "too girly" category (along with Kneaders and focaccia) for Allan, but he really enjoyed it. So much, in fact, that I'm making it for his office Christmas party this weekend.


Dark leafy greens, with romaine and spinach being the exception, intimidated me for a long time--mostly because I'm shy and don't like asking people for directions in the produce section. Then I discovered the wonderful world of CSA programs and started getting bunches in my weekly basket. We're talking swiss chard, curly endive, bok choy, kale, and of course, arugula. Nothing shakes up your weekly menu planning like mounds of leafy greens.


Arugula is pretty similar to spinach (in fact it works as a substitute in this recipe if you, like me, clam up in front of the produce man), but has a more peppery flavor and stiffer texture. It's pretty punchy for a green, and I love it. Oh, and this recipe also highlights my favorite herb, sage, and my favorite starchy vegetable of all time: the butternut squash.


Stop making fun of me. Right now.

Pasta Salad with Walnut-Sage Pesto
From Cooking Light (again, you need this magazine)

2 1/2 c cubed, peeled butternut squash**

3/4 t salt, divided
1/2 c fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves (use fresh, it's important in a pesto)
2 1/2 T chopped walnuts
2 T fresh sage leaves (see parsley, above)
2 T fresh lemon juice (see parsley, above)
2 T olive oil
1 garlic clove
1/3 c chicken broth
3 c cooked pasta (think chunky shapes--penne, bowtie, cavatappi)
4 c torn arugula
1/4 c thinly sliced shallots (hint: they look like baby red onions, use red onion as a substitute)
1/2 t ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 450.

Arrange squash in single layer on a sprayed jelly roll pan. Lightly coat squash with cooking spray and sprinkle evenly with 1/4 t of salt. Bake at 450 for 20 minutes, stirring halfway through.

Combine 1/4 t of salt, parsley, and next 5 ingredients (through garlic) in a food processor; process until finely chopped, scraping sides. With processor on, slowly pour broth through food chute, processing until well blended.

Combine remaining 1/4 t salt, squash, pasta, and pesto in a large bowl, and toss well. Add arugula, shallots, and pepper; toss to combine. Serve immediately.

**Unless you have the sharpest knife known to man, incredible hand strength, and an extra hour, do yourself a favor and buy this already cubed. Available at Costco, in the refrigerated produce section.

License to steal.

We dispensed with the optional pomp of Allan's swearing in and decided to walk across the street from Allan's office and do it at the courthouse. We know a judge (Allan will get to know many judges from here on out, I'm sure, but we've been in this one's home. We ate smoked turkey. Mmmmm....Oh, and his daughter lived downstairs from me my junior year at BYU. AND as is probably quite obvious to you at this point, he's LDS. Part of the huge population of LDS judges and attorneys here. If I wasn't LDS myself, I'd probably accuse them of conspiracy to take over the justice system in the SJ Valley. Especially since I heard that during testimony meeting about eight years ago a woman who didn't quite grasp the concept of a testimony went up and tearfully thanked one of the judges--NOT THIS ONE--for "going easy on her son," but I digress...).

Here we are listening to the judge talk about Watergate. In other words, Allan has new power to either do a lot of bad or a lot of good. Hence, a license to steal--pause for courtesy laughter. When the judge listed off a bunch of the attorneys associated with Watergate, I was waiting to hear a specific name. Because then I could pull out one of my many "My mom dated his son!" (Mom dated a lot of important people's sons...it's quite frightening, actually). But he didn't list off that name. So the crowd missed out on my dazzling connection. What a shame, what a shame. Oh, and if you think I'd reveal the name on the world wide web, you're quite mistaken, my friends. Quite mistaken.


Here he is being sworn in. In my wildest fantasies I'd be standing up there holding a Bible, ala Michelle Obama on January 20th, but Allan was being sworn in as an attorney, not as President of the United States of America.


When all was finished we posed for some incredibly unflattering pictures, Jack got the Reese's peanut butter cup he'd been ogling the entire time, and Allan treated us (at my nagging insistence) to an incredibly overpriced "Italian" lunch.

I should have gotten that flu shot.

I woke up this morning thinking, "CRUD." This year's version of the flu has serious dizziness, plenty of throwing up, cold sweats, and a headache. I sure hope you don't get it.

While I took a nap, Jack watched two hours of tv this morning. Then watched a bit of Fantasia (after about five minutes he came in to my room and said, "I don't want to watch the news!" I feel ya' buddy, I still can't get excited about that movie). Then he watched Alice in Wonderland. 

All of this time in front of the television has been brought to us by PBS Kids and our local library--turning malleable brains into mush for free (at least when moms can't function, or don't want to function).

Buffy's back.

I am proud to report that I was not institutionalized over the weekend as I had feared would happen. I'm feeling 100% emotionally stable once again. 

Apparently all I needed was four days with my husband. A house full of six high-octane kids under eight years old who entertained themselves marvelously. A sister-in-law with whom I never run out of things to talk about. Major gnoshing on some of my favorite foods (rotkohl, cranberry chutney, mashed potatoes.....mmmmmmmm). A new membership to the gym. A drive in the foothills to look at houses. The spiritual blessings received from giving a sacrament meeting talk, teaching my sunday school class, and substitute teaching in Relief Society all on one Sunday (The Buffy Bailey Triple Play). Cuddling until 8am. And a big long sobfest, complete with painful chest heaving, as to why I still can't get pregnant. Followed, of course, by more cuddling and a conversation with my husband who may be the only person on this planet who can effectively remind me that someone greater than I knows what I'm going through and giving up hope that He will help me is the worst thing I can do.

I love my husband. I love my son. I love all of my family members. I love my friends. I love this Gospel. And I love long weekends--especially Thanksgiving ones.

It's good to be back.