Day Twelve: Grillling in the Snow

Winter arrived today. 

It was snowing.  The roads were slippery.  It was cold.  Real cold.  And then the wind blew.  Standing outside for more than 15 seconds made you want to collapse into a pile of jittering bones.   

This weather speaks to Mike.  It speaks in a hateful, taunting voice.  It tells him to stay indoors; to make chili; to cuddle up in a blanket.  It calls him a big baby.  A wimp. 

Mike is a man of few words, so he doesn't say anything in return.  Instead, he puts on his stocking cap, his gloves, and his windbreaker.  He sets his jaw, walks outside, and fires up the grill.

Old Man Winter will not keep Mike from grilling pork chops tonight.  And just for spite, Mike is grilling everything we're eating for dinner.  The pork, apples, corn, and bread.  Winter: meet the business end of Mike's spatula.

Mike thoughtfully arranged that picture with a cookbook on display, but I'm not sure he actually used it.  All I saw was a lot of cinammon and brown sugar getting rubbed all over the pork and slice apples.  The corn got grilled plain and then doused with butter. 

While Survivor Man grilled on the deck, Jack and I enjoyed making a winter craft together.  This was a craft from Spanish class today, so we worked on parts of the face and colors in Spanish while we made our muñeco de nieve.

Jack acted much naughtier than any of my students, and the end product represents about 98% effort from me, and about 2% contribution from Jack.  Once it was made he enjoyed toddling around the kitchen showing it to the various appliances. 

Aha, here is one of his favorite kitchen toys: the trash can. 

Jack!  Don't throw that away!  I worked hard on that!

Fooled ya! 

By the time I had safely stuck the snowman on the fridge, Mike stumbled in from the deck.  The kitchen towel that he carried with him while he was cooking had been damp when he went outside.  When he came inside it was frozen.  I expected to see him return with frozen eyelashes, purple fingers, and a runny nose.  Instead, he was jubilant, pink-cheeked and bouncy.

He came bearing a week's supply of beautifully grilled food.

I ate about a third of this serving and felt full, while Mike gobbled down his entire meal.  Everything was warm, smoky-smelling, and crispy in all the right places. 

After dinner, Mike went outside and fired the grill to full blast.  He offers this picture as proof that ceramic cookers retain heat.  Please notice the snow, sitting on the countertop right next to the grill.

By this point I was getting pretty tired of the wet boot marks crisscrossing the floor, and the highway of cold air that trailed Mike each time he came inside.  We closed the door and declared Mike the vicotr of the evening. 

Take that, Winter!

Day Eleven: Mr. Mom

Tonight I was busy teaching Little Spanish Playschool, so I wasn't around for dinner.  This means Mike got to play Mr. Mom.  He picked Jack up from day care, took him to Bass Pro to play on the boats, and got him home in time to eat a home cooked meal. 

Mike, who is too kind, makes Jack a separate meal that he knows Jack will eat.  Thus, another grilled cheese for the little tyrant.  Really I can't complain, because it's a balanced meal.  My philosophy is quite different, though.  When I cook, Jack must eat the same meal that Mike and I eat (more or less, and as you have seen by reading the blog, that means less).  I am sticking to my guns, though.  I am not going to cook two separate meals just because someone is a little picky.  If I start that now, I may very well still be doing it when Jack is 12.  Not happening.  Plus, how will he ever learn to try new and different foods if he eats fish sticks for dinner every night? 

This is actually a big issue in our house, and has led to several tense evenings.  Mike feels that the most important rule of dinner is that Jack eats a lot, even if that means we have to make him something special and redundant.  As you saw above, I don't agree.  And we are both 100% convinced that our view is perfectly correct and the only way to proceed. 

Oh, compromise: I do not like you. 

We are still in choppy water on this one.  So far, the consensus seems to be that when I cook dinner, I make the rules.  When Mike cooks dinner, he makes the rules.  Small concessions have been made, tiny peace offerings, but we are still miles from an agreement.  I'm hoping that Home Cook Challenge will throw some light on the issue.

Mike is not as grouchy as I am, and he was probably whistling while he made the second dinner of the night.  Taco night!

Really, what is better than the smell of browning meat?  Nothing.  Looking at that picture makes me hungry.

Thankfully, when I got home tonight Mike had the oven warm and everything ready for me to throw together some tacos.  It was a great welcome home, and I was thankful that Mr. Mom was on the job! 

Day Ten: Salmon

Back before Jack came along I used to go to the grocery store once a week.  I would sit down on Sunday, plan the week's meals, and prepare my list.  One hour at the grocery store and I was finished for the week. 

Wait, it gets better. 

I would also make sure we ate well balanced meals every night.  We ate a variety of foods: one night each for pasta, chicken, beef, fish, and maybe even a vegetarian meal if I could sneak it by Mike. 

Then Jack came along.  Since his arrival, I havn't had the time, energy, quiet or patience to sit and plan a week's meals.  Therefore, I go to the store a lot and we eat whatever I can think of making last minute.  It's all a big waste of time, I know, but that's how it ends up working.




It dawned on me that for the past nine days of Home Cook Challenge, we haven't eaten any fish.  Luckily, I had some frozen salmon in the fridge (see above, I no longer plan in advance).  One quick trip to the store and I had everything I needed to make a healthy dinner. 

This recipe comes from my Old No. 3 cookbook, a collection of family recipes Karla Wilkerson gave us as a wedding gift.  The recipe is actually my parents' contribution.  I can remember my mother discovering this recipe when I was in high school.  She liked it so much we had it twice a week for a year.  Of course, this turned me into an opponent quickly.  Once I grew up and tried it myself, though, I really liked it.  

It's pretty darn easy to make.  Just whip up a little sauce of tarragon, dijon mustard, white wine vinegar and olive oil.

This was easily accomplished while I threw the salmon filets in the sink to defrost (another problem with not planning ahead... I always forget to defrost the frozen food!).  Meanwhile, Jack hung around in the kitchen enjoying a fruit snack. 

He even offered to share his coveted snack with the cat, Penny.  She gave it a good sniff, but declined.

Once dinnertime rolled around I heated up the oven to broil and brushed some olive oil and lemon juice on the salmon. 

The salmon broils for five minutes per side, so it was ready quickly.  I just had time to make some noodles, spinach salad, and open up a can of pears.  When the salmon came out it just needed a few swipes of the tarragon sauce.

What do you know?  We had a balanced meal tonight!  Fruit, vegetable, protein, carb... it's all there!  I was very proud of myself.  Nothing was more pleasing than seeing Mike clean his plate. 

You're probably wondering how Jack liked the salmon.  He gave it a big no and several decisive shakes of his head.  He loved the noodles, which was a success in itself.  These were the same noodles from the chicken noodle soup which he refused.  Jack also liked digging through the salad bowl to find the Craisins.  He gobbled up his pears. 

After all that eating Jack proudly displayed his belly button.

We were all feeling good after this dinner.  Mike cleaned up the kitchen and even shooed me away when I tried to help.  That gave me more time to work with Jack on his fine motor skills by ripping paper.  Goodbye, Pottery Barn Kids!  Take that, Williams Sonoma! 

This was a deeply satisfying activity for all involved.  Jack spent most of the time bouncing between ripping paper with me and jumping off the chair onto the cushion.  Fine motor, gross motor... the kid likes balance.  When Mike saw our big mess, he remarked that he was happy his clean up duty was finished. 

The next few days will be interesting, because I will be teaching Spanish classes at night.  Mike will be responsible for Jack tomorrow night, and Thursday they will be coming to class with me.  That means a carseat dinner for Jack and parents who will be wishing for take-out.  We shall see how we fare...

Day Nine: Mike Eats a Vegetable

All morning I could feel lunch lurking, waiting, taunting.  No matter how long we stayed at the library this morning, as soon as we got back it would be lunchtime.  When the inevitable finally happened, I decided to beat lunch-crankiness by taking it one step at a time.  First: feed Jack. 

Jack has never eaten lunch meat for me, and never eaten an egg (no matter how many ways I present it).  At day care last week, though, he reportedly gobbled up his turkey wrap.  What was this?  Does he eat new and different foods for his teachers but not for me?  Was he peer pressured by the other toddlers?  Either way, it worked for them so I had my fingers crossed it would work for me.

I am not a wrap eater.  I like bread way too much.  I didn't even know how to make a wrap, but I've heard people say they put cream cheese in them.  I gave it a try by spreading a little cream cheese on half a tortilla, then sticking in a bit of turkey and cheese.  This seemed too easy, so I used the other half for a little breakfast burrito, putting scrambled egg and salsa on the tortilla.  Jack loves salsa, so I thought this might trick him into eating an egg.

When presented with the two wraps, his immediate response was disdain.  I was quick, though, and offered a ramikin full of salsa for his dipping pleasure.  I showed him how to dip his breakfast burrito in the salsa.  Look, Jack, dip dip dip... mmm yummy!  Jack eyed the eggy mess suspiciously and reached for the turkey wrap.  One good dunk in the salsa and one timid bite.  Then another dunk and another bite.  And we have a winner!!! 

Jack ate the entire turkey wrap, and then proceeded to eat the remaining salsa by hand.  The egg tortilla turned out to be great fun to squish and smash, so at least it served a purpose. 

I was riding high from this lunchtime success, so when Jack was napping and it was time for me to make something, I didn't mope at all.  Nothing sounded good, of course, but I saw that we had eggs.  I could make a fried egg sandwich in no time.  It wasn't the world's best meal, but it would be better than lunch meat.

All that salsa put a little fire in Jack's belly, and the rest of the day he was a little pistol.  We visited my dad at his office, during which time Jack asserted his independence in many ways.  He pressed the elevator buttons.  He bossed us into walking up and down two flights of stairs with him.  He answered no to every question.  By the time we dragged home at 5:30 I felt tired from the inside out, and he was just getting started.  Thank goodness it was a leftovers night!  To my surprise, Mike was already home and had cut up all the leftovers and put them in a salad.

Yes, I said salad!  Mike was going to eat a vegetable.  On purpose!

This bit of good news really perked me up.  I love salads like this, and thankfully we had just bought a new bottle of Ranch.  We even had some rolls left over from Saturday night, so I warmed those up in the oven while I tried to recuperate by lying on the couch.

I mentioned earlier that I love bread, and I'm really not kidding.  I feel like no meal is complete without bread.  If there isn't any bread at a meal I will stalk through the kitchen the rest of the night, eating whatever carb-rich snacks call to me at the moment.
It would have been an act of insanity to try to make Jack eat a salad and a roll tonight.  You pick your battles, and tonight would be a night of many battles.  Yes, you must wear pants.  No, you may not throw the cat.  Yes, you will brush your teeth.  No, you cannot paint the dog.

In another rare stroke of luck, Mike gave me the greatest gift a mother could get: a night off.  He offered to take Jack somewhere while I relaxed.  Amazing!  He ate vegetables and gave me a night off?!  He must be up to something... we will see.

Day Eight: Grill-a-thon

It's a lazy Sunday, which means Mike fired up his grill first thing this morning.  Since Mike has no speed but full throttle, this meant firing up both his Big Green Egg and his Kamado Joe.

I was able to pull him away for a few minutes to head to the grocery store.  We had to address our lunch issues.  Our "quick trip" turned long as we wandered the aisles trying to think of things that might make a good lunch.  Jack got restless very quickly.  Driving the car-shaped cart, sitting in the cart, pushing the cart, and walking next to the cart all failed to impress today.  Running away from the cart was a little more fun.  By the time we were checking out he was in a full blown tantrum. 

This did not improve our attitude toward lunch foods.

Once home, Mike made a lovely sandwich.  I was so cranky I just ate some leftover beans and cornbread, distancing myself as much as possible from the disastrous grocery store trip.

Once Jack went down for this nap, Mike went straight for his happy place.  He spent the rest of the afternoon and evening grilling obscene amounts of meat.  He couldn't resist doing his favorite appetizer: bacon-wrapped shrimp.  No recipes today, folks.  Just wrap the shrimp in bacon and toss it on the grill.

The ribs were easy, too.  Just sprinkle with a little seasoning, let sit in the fridge overnight, then pop them on the grill.  Three hours at 300 degrees, the last 30 minutes of which you wrap them in foil.

Mike snuck in one final addition while I wasn't looking: sausage.  I was not aware that people ate sausage like this until I met Mike. 

Before we were married, Mike would eat sausage at nearly every meal.  I mean every meal: breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner.  As soon as we were married I put my foot down and said it wasn't happening.  Mike was still in the honeymoon phase, where he would agree to almost anything, so he acquiesced.  Note to brides, WORK this stage.  It does not last long.

He was rennovating his house when we were first dating, and proudly demonstrated his manly prowess by ripping out the kitchen.  He proceeded to impress me with all his fantastic plans for the cabinets, countertops, sink, appliances, and floor.  Remember, Mike is the dreamer.  All he would need while this was quickly being constructed, he argued, was a Weber kettle grill, a minifridge and a microwave.  Hmm... perhaps he was pragmatic like me?  Each Sunday he would grill all day, enough food (by food I mean meat) to fill the fridge.  The rest of the week he ate the leftovers.  I thought this was funny and quirky... for a few months. 

It took nine long months for Mike to finish that kitchen.   By the end I knew that if I didn't marry him and make sure he started eating like a human being, he would be a goner.  As you can see, he's still here and going great.

Jack did not appreciate this meal.  He refused the shrimp, ribs, and the baked potato.  If I hadn't cut up some strawberries for him and slopped some leftover macaroni and cheese on his plate, we would have had another meltdown on our hands.

He was happy enough with his leftovers.  After a shower and some Elmo, he got the best treat of all: a ride on Daddy's shoulders.

Our fun weekend came to a happy close tonight.  We feel rested, recharged, and ready for another week.  Mike is happy that there is plenty of meat in the fridge, and I'm vowing to find something good for lunch tomorrow. 

Day Seven: Company Comes

Let me tell you, this is not as easy as it sounds.  Lunchtime is the worst.  I open the fridge, take a good look, and sigh.  I'm tired of chicken noodle soup and don't feel like beans and cornbread.  Somehow, the fridge is completely void of anything palatable.  Mike pokes his head around the fridge door and confirms that there isn't anything good inside.  "Just go pick up something," he says, "lunch doesn't have to count."  Excuse me?  The idea man, the dreamer, ever-optimist has joined with the little devil on my shoulder? 
"No" I tell him firmly.  All meals have to be made at home for 30 days.  Lunch counts.  Breakfast counts.  Snacks count.  Dinner counts.  And don't go trying to convince me to make a run to Andy's.  Dessert counts, too.  Perhaps we need to clarify the rules.

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THE RULES

1. All meals must be made at home for 30 days.
2. We will not have any take-out, drive-thru, restaurant, or premade meals.  This includes but is not limited to Cherry Limeaids from Sonic, frozen Stauffer's lasagna, and Strawannas from Andys. 
3.  We will accept offerings of homemade meals from other kitchens (such as Mike's mom's chocolate cake) as long as it's not the main course.

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My cheese quesadilla was a poor showing for lunch, so I was feeling pretty grim.  I tracked Mike down to complain.  There he was, on the back patio, accompanied by a juicy cutting board and dirty knife and fork.  "What is this? Did you smoke bacon again?"  Mike sheepishly replied that he had grilled a steak for lunch.  He just couldn't find anything else to eat. 
Tomorrow we will head to the store to find some appropriate lunch foods.

Our good friends, Branden and Ashley, came over for dinner tonight.  Branden and Ashley got married last weekend.  They spent much of this evening gazing at one another and canoodling.

We wanted to treat the newlyweds to a great meal, so we pulled out a sure-fire hit,the Barefoot Contessa.

What's on the menu?  Steak.  No, I'm not kidding.  Mike will be eating his second steak of the day.  Thank you, Harter House, for offering a two-for-one special on filets.

This recipe begins with searing the steaks in a hot skillet, then transferring them to the oven for ten minutes.  Ina encourages you to make sure your kitchen is well ventilated.  As you can see, ours is not.

While Mike threatened to smoke us out, Ashley and Jack had fun looking at her phone.

Ashley is really good with kids, and she constantly offers to babysit.  We love having her over!

No one minded the smoke, and we somehow escaped without setting off the smoke alarm.  This reminded Branden that one of the items on his "Before the Wedding" list is to install smoke alarms.  This item has now been moved to his Honey Do list. 

Branden is one of Mike's childhood friends.  He always tells great stories.  I love listening to Branden's stories, because each time I learn something new about Mike.  After Branden's visit, I usually spend at least a week worrying over this new story, what it means about Mike, and if Jack will end up doing all the same things.

When the smoke finally died down, it was time to put the steaks in the oven.   Everybody put on your oven mitts!

For extra fun, we served up the steaks on our sizzle platters.  These make a lovely sizzling sound when you serve your steak.  Unfortunaetly, they make a terrible nails-on-chalkboard sound when you cut your steak.  Every rose has its thorn.

We had an extra special dessert tonight, thanks to Ashley.  She loves to bake all kinds of sweets, and even did all the desserts for her own wedding.  Tonight, she brought a homemade apple cake and homemade ice-cream.  I couldn't believe it!  Homemade ice-cream!  Who is she?  Laura Ingalls Wilder?

Ashley picked her recipe knowing that Jack liked apples, and wondering what kid would refuse ice-cream.  We felt pretty confident he would devour the sugary dessert and then run wild through the house for hours after his bedtime.  Jack turned up his nose, surprising us all.  No apple cake; no ice-cream.  This was pretty disappointing, especially after Ashley had put so much thought into her recipe selection.  On the upside, this meant Jack went to bed on time and the adults had plenty of time to sit around on the kitchen counters finishing the wine. 

Nights like this recharge our batteries.  Great friends, good food, and funny stories to last all night. 

Day Six: Leftovers

It's Friday night, which makes me sad that we aren't going out to a restaurant.  We always close the kitchen on weekends, and enjoy eating food that is much better than ours at places that Jack finds entertaining.  The weather is nice again, which means this would be a great night to sit on a patio somewhere.  Just look how beautiful it was at the park this afternoon! 

Our own patio will have to do tonight, because we are committed to Home Cook Challenge!  (And even if we fail, I'm not going down this early).  Thanks to the plentiful ham, we have enough to live on leftovers today.  I simmered some beans in the crock pot and threw in most of the leftover ham.  After a few hours I added some onion, chilli pepper, and the secret ingredient: lemon juice.  One of Mike's many grilling buddies on Facebook notified him that today is National Bean Day.  Mike was very pleased we were celebrating appropriately.

The only other thing we needed tonight was some cornbread, which is a jiffy... and I do mean Jiffy!  I have always loved making cornbread because it was the second thing my mother ever allowed me to make on my own.  Jello was the first, and Jello hardly counts- just a little stirring and waiting while it sits in the fridge.  Jello is not all that different from cornbread, now that I think of it.  Just a little stirring and waiting while it cooks in the oven. 

Although, there is the all important breaking of the egg.  I always get nervous breaking eggs.  As a child, I would watch my mother and sister break eggs with wonder.  A few soft taps on the mixing bowl, and their shapely, polished nails would gently ease the shell apart, letting the insides glide down into the cookie dough.  My brother, too, loved to break an egg, but more from the desire to break something than to be helpful.  He would smash the egg against the rim of the bowl, then yank the two halves apart.  Amazingly, no shell made it into the bowl.  My efforts never ended that well, and I preferred not to try while my siblings watched.  As you can tell, I still overthink this simple task.

The breaking of the egg went well tonight, and we had a great dinner of bean soup on cornbread.  Mike likes to load his soup with relish, while I eat mine plain.

I think this is pretty strange, but relish is technically a vegetable, so I don't pick a fight over this one.  Jack resisted all attempts to coax him into eating a bean or a bite of ham. 

We add another success to our story tonight, because Jack finally ate cornbread for the first time.  He also devoured his pickle over several minutes, leaving behind a wet, slimy sleeve for the duration of the evening.

Our first Friday is under our belt.  Although it was not nearly as fun as eating out, we had a great time together at home.  Jack was welcome to wipe his slimy sleeve on anything he wanted, and Mike and I could lie on the floor to race Matchbox cars down the hallway.  Tomorrow we'll have to perk it up a little, because we have guests coming!