favorites, old and new

May 2004. Liam enters the world and mom (with the help of aunt Liz) makes - for the first time - chicken corn chowder. And we've never looked back. Seriously (although no comparison to Liam), this is majorly good comfort food and it gives leftovers a better life than they had the first time around. It's my favorite late in the corn season. I usually boil a couple extra cobs to be sure we're left with enough to cut from the cob. Just read the recipe. You won't be disappointed. (Inspired by Everyday Food.)

Chicken Corn Chowder

2-3 strips bacon
1 small onion, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
2 T flour
4 c. milk
1-2 c. rotiserrie, baked or fried chicken, pulled off the bone in bite-sized pieces
8-10 small red potatoes, in bite-sized pieces
2-3 cobs of corn, cooked or uncooked, corn cut from cob
sprinkle of cayenne pepper
salt and pepper to taste

Cook bacon in dutch oven until brown and ready to crumble. Remove bacon. Add onion and celery to pot and cook 5 minutes. Stir in flour. After one minute, add milk. Bring to a boil and add the rest of the ingredients. Simmer until potatoes are tender. Serve topped with crumbled bacon.

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Depending how many mouths there are at your table, this is a great meal to share. Tonight we took a jar of it to an older woman who lives alone and doesn't enjoy cooking for herself. With a couple rolls and a small salad, you've got a pretty nice spread. Hardly anything makes me happier than pushing homemade food on people, especially food made in good company and received with open arms. So, today, we couldn't resist adding cookies to the menu. Liam led the way on this first-time trial, which will now be added to our regular repertoire. Butter + sugar + pecans = oh, my. And, oh, so easy. (Also from Everyday Food, May 2004.)

Butter Pecan Cookies

3/4 c. pecans
1 stick unsalted butter
1/3 c. sugar
1 t. vanilla
1/8 t. salt
1 c. flour

Heat over to 350 and toast pecans on cookie sheet for 5-6 minutes. Remove and coasely chop. Cream butter and sugar; mix in the rest of the ingredients. Shape batter into 12 balls; roll in sugar and gently flatten on cookie sheet. Bake 15 minutes.

think I'll go to africa

When I was growing up, this was the common refrain from my stepmom (or some version of it) to let us kids (especially my youngest brother and sister) know that she had reached her limit. Nearly everyday, it seemed, she was going to Africa. Well, tomorrow Gigi is finally going to be true to her word and - brave woman - will be accompanying my dad to Africa for three weeks! They will visit numerous countries for meetings, ministry and a bit of sightseeing.

Last night when I put Liam to bed I added Papa and Gigi's Africa trip to our prayers. Liam interrupted to ask, "Africa? But where will Papa and Gigi sleep?"

"In a bed I suppose."

"Like a grass mat?" Liam wondered.

"Um, no, like a bed."

"But, where?" he asked again.

"Well," I pondered, "Maybe a hotel some nights; maybe someone's house; and maybe even a tent."

"What?" he laughed. "They can't sleep in a tent. They're too big!"

He was clearly imagining a version of the small pup tent he has set up in his room.

"There are some really big tents. Some of them even have beds in them," I said

Liam laughed and popped up on one elbow to get a good look at me. Then he shook his head and flopped back on his pillow.

"Mom," he said, "You are joking me. That is the craziest thing I ever heard. There are no tent beds in Africa."

I just received Papa and Gigi's itinerary. Tent beds? No. Adventure? Yes. I think Gigi is still a little dumbstruck that she is actually going to Africa after all the years of saying it. So, be careful what you threaten. It's a long way to the moon.

giving and getting

Changing over clothes for the cooler weather (and the bigger boys) is bringing on the urge to purge. I recently got turned onto an awesome grassroots movement called Freecycle that makes this effort easy and fun. In more than 4,500 Freecycle groups across the country, people are giving away the stuff they don't want anymore to other people who do. There's a group right here in our town and every day I receive a digest email that sums up all the stuff people are giving away and all the stuff people want. So far I've claimed a bunch of French storybooks that a kind woman delivered to my door, and just missed on a wheelbarrow full of sod.

I know, I know, I'm supposed to be purging. There's always tomorrow. Check and see if there's a Freecycle group in your town. Keep your money in your pocket and your junk out of the garbage.

what we're making

:: Books :: I picked up this idea from a couple different sources and it has totally revived Liam's interest in drawing. Basically, I cut several wide strips of paper and fold in half to make a little book. Then I cut a slightly larger cover out of kraft paper or a paper grocery bag, punch two holes in the spine and tie with yarn to make a little book. (Stapling the spine works, too.) I am trying to keep a little stack of these blank books by the art supplies because for some reason if I say, "Why don't you go draw something?" that's a boring suggestion but if I say, "Why don't you go make a book?" I get a big smile, a "Yeah!" and a knee slap. Best of all, I get a stash of little Liam books in return.


:: Faces :: There's something about a cape in this house. All drama. That's because being a superhero is serious business. And it cracks me up.

:: Progress :: Today Elliott climbed up on his knees to get his car off of the couch. I wish I had a photo to show the precious moment but we were too busy clapping and cheering like lunatics. He also pushed up on his hands and knees and rocked for a while. I missed it, but Andrew gave me the play by play. It's funny that although I recorded most of Liam's milestones in a baby book, I feel like they were marked with a simple, "Good job, buddy!" and a proud smile. I don't remember near the thrill we feel with Elliott. Maybe it's because that in addition to excitement, every bit of Elliott's progress brings relief.

a peach with a pear

homemade granola

I don't know if it's the start of the school year, the cooler weather kicking in or the fact that Liam ate the Trader Joe's version of a Fig Newton for breakfast, but it's time for some hearty whole grains and honey in this house. I am such a fan of this recipe. Not only because it tastes awesome and is packed with nutrition but because when it's baking, it smells incredible.

Homemade Granola

2 cups rolled oats
1 cup sweetened shredded coconut
3/4 cup slivered or sliced blanched almonds
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup honey
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1/4 cup unsalted sunflower seeds
2 T ground flaxseed
1 T flax seed oil (optional)

Toss together oats, coconut and almonds. In small bowl, whisk together oil and honey; stir into the oat mixture. Spread out on a rimmed baking sheet and bake at 350 degrees for 17 to 20 minutes until golden brown. Let cool for 10 minutes; stir in flaxseed oil (if using). Let cool completely. Transfer to large bowl and mix in the rest of the ingredients. Great on yogurt, in milk or by the handful.

what I learned from A.J. Jacobs, my uncle Dan and 29 hours in the car

On Thursday evening, Andrew and I kissed Liam and Elliott goodbye, hopped in the car and headed for Denver. My cousin was getting married and we had decided a couple months earlier (after confirming with my mom that she would be happy to babysit our kids) that we would turn the occasion into a childless roadtrip and seize the opportunity to reconnect. Seeing that the drive was long and the duration of the getaway short, we decided to catch up on our reading and enjoy some of the time together in the car listening to books on tape.

Thursday night we got several hours under our belt and made it to Des Moines. Friday morning, settling into the car with our coffees, it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't brought anything to do. What a waste of time, I thought. I could be embroidering (something I oddly like to do but never have the time to) or knitting. In fact, I actually would have enough time to knit something significant, like a hat (or two!) or part of a sweater. I could move beyond scarves with these kind of hours ahead. What was I thinking?

I briefly considered asking Andrew to pull off in Omaha to look for a Hobby Lobby or the like. But we were trying to make it to Denver for a celebration dinner and time was tight. Plus, I knew he'd never agree. He already thinks I focus too much on doing and accomplishing. And, for crying out loud, this was vacation.

So I sat and tried not to seem irritated with myself as we listened to one of the books we brought, A Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest to Follow the Bible as Literally as Possible by A.J. Jacobs. I had started reading this book at home so I knew it was funny and clever, but I wasn't expecting to learn much or have it spark an intense and thoughtful discussion that would lead to some significant decisions about how we are spending our time as a family and living our life together. I wasn't expecting to give up my desire to knit so easily.

For the book, Jacobs, a very nominal Jew, read the entire Bible four times through and wrote down every law, rule and suggestion he found in its pages. Then he set off to live "as Biblically as possible." Each day Jacobs tried to focus his actions and behavior on the ten commandments and at least one other more obscure Biblical command. He wore a copy of the commandments on his forehead, tied tassels to the edges of his garments, let his beard go unshaven and tried to avoid clothes of mixed fibers. But he also battled his tendency toward coveting, his struggles with lust and the near impossibility of keeping the Sabbath holy - no working, no email, no cell phone, etc.

As we listened I began thinking about which rules and commandments I follow, which I justify, which I condem others for blowing and which I flat out ignore. In the end, postulates Jacobs, all Christians are cafeteria Christians, picking and choosing what to put on their trays and what to leave behind. In the law-abiding sense, I'd definitely have to agree. Who could do it all and who would want to? Seriously, if Andrew refused to touch me in any way (including sitting in a chair that I had sat in - yes that's in the Bible) seven days a month, I'd probably clock him. But what struck me more than anything in Jacobs' book was how the Bible is not meant to be a rule book. It's meant to tell a story. And it tells lots of them. Crazy stories. Horrifying stories. Sad stories. Incredibly profound stories. And stories so simple and humble, it's easy to miss them. All in all, stories that point us to God.

The stories were not lost on Jacobs. Throughout the book, he tells his wife Bible stories to help them both make sense of their lives, their circumstances, their struggles and their joys. He doesn't do it because the Bible tells him to; he does it because in all his reading and living Biblically he realizes that the stories have a lot to say. More than meets the eye. More, perhaps, than the laws. More than the most Biblically literate among us might be seeing.

Because this is the thing, stories are messy. They have contradictions. But they are how we live. And, even more, how Jesus lived and how he taught. The laws and rules, definitely important to the story. I won't argue that. But, for the most part, we do them alone. And, if we pick the obscure ones to follow, we can probably expect to live alone as well. (Not a lot of camaraderie for a bearded guy in tassels, carrying a staff and the ten commandments strapped to his forehead in modern-day America.)

So, what will our story be? This is what Andrew and I debated and pondered for a few precious hours of our 29 hour drive. We could sanitize it, choose the cast and the setting, and try to write the script in advance. But, truly, one only has to read the Bible one time to know that this is a fool's errand. And even if it "works," where is God in that?

At the wedding we attended, my uncle Dan conducted the ceremony for his daughter and son-in-law and made reference to the Three Dog Night song, "One," which begins, "One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do." His point was that one is, in fact, not the loneliest number if it's done right. It's the least lonely number. Two becoming one in marriage, the church becoming one body, this is what happens when the story is lived, not according to all the rules (although some key ones do help), but in the grace and love and forgiveness of the greatest storyteller of all.

As for these two who became one just about seven years ago, we'll be focusing on some of our newer cafeteria choices, including keeping the Sabbath, with no computers, email or cell phones sundown to sundown (which, for the first couple months, no doubt, will be more competition than holiness), and finding real ways as a family to care for the orphans and the widows. These are just a few of the things we've decided that we hope will shape our kids' stories.

But most importantly we'll be trying to live a story that is full of love and grace and forgiveness. A story that includes and embraces. That questions and doubts. That hopes and prays. And that, by grace, points people to God.