Day Fourteen: Pizza Night

 This was our second Saturday night of home cook challenge, and we would normally have gone out to dinner somewhere fun.  The beat the doldrums, we had some friends come over for dinner.  Tricia, Mike, and their son Trip recently moved into our neighborhood.  I grew up going to church with Tricia, but we haven't seen each other much since leaving for college years ago.  Their son is four months younger than ours, and we were eager to see if the boys would play together.

Since we were going to be herding toddlers all night, we figured it would be best to keep the cooking easy and family-friendly.  Pizza it is!
I was excited about this because it would be a lot less expensive than Mike's usual plans that involve copious amounts of steak.  I was so happy I even agreed to let Mike do the grocery shopping.  Things were going well.

Then Mike got home from the store.  I suspected trouble when I saw him toting eight grocery bags.  When I unpacked the bags, I was shocked.  I shouldn't have been shocked.  He does this every time.  This is the reason I don't allow him to do the grocery shopping.  Mike had bought enough groceries for us to open our own pizza store.  Why buy a bag of cheese, when you can buy three jumbo bags? Why buy one can of pizza sauce, when you can buy four!?  Argh!
Despite the overload on supplies, we ended up having a great night.  We got all the toppings ready in advance.

I made the pizza dough using the Pronto Pizza Dough recipe from Sassafras.  This was my first try at making pizza dough, and I was surprised how fun and easy it was.  Mike showed me a recipe from one of his grilling cookbooks that required the dough to be made 10 hours in advance.  Ha!  My quick Sassafras recipe only required 45 minutes to rise, and making the dough took about 5 minutes.  I'll definitely be doing this one again!

Plus, I love it when I get to use my rolling pin.  Jack liked playing with the rolling pin, too.
We made two pizza crusts, and it took us a while to decide how to decorate the pizzas.  Ultimately, we decided it would work best if we made a pizza for the girls and kids, and one for the men.  Jack and Trip liked putting the cheese on top.

As you no doubt already guessed, the men loaded their pizza with every meat they could find.

Mike and Mike (yep... it made things confusing), stepped on the deck to grill the pizzas.  Tricia and I stayed inside and played with the boys, who were more taken with their mothers than with each other.

When dinner was ready we were able to all sit down together and enjoy pizza and salad.  Jack is a big fan of the salad serving pieces.  He doesn't like lettuce or spinach, but he associates salad with good things (croutons, Craisins, almonds). 

Trip did a good job banging on the high chair, which inspired a little dinner-time drum recital from Jack, too.

After dinner the men did their best to be bridge the gap between football-watchers and attentive daddies.  Here they are hovering in the doorway between the hearth room, where football was on t.v., and the living room, where the boys were playing with their toys.

Tricia brought these amazing chocolate cupcakes that were the perfect ending to our meal.  These are another Sassafras recipe, and proof that everything in that cookbook is good!

We had a fun, laid back night.  This is about as exciting as our Saturday nights get, and we're good with that.  Kids playing on the floor, football on t.v., beer in hand, pizza on the grill, and great company.  We call that a good night!

Day Thirteen: Mikey No Likey

I was excited all day today because I couldn't wait to eat the creamy avocado pasta I was going to make for dinner.  I discovered this recipe one day at the neighbor's house.  We had been having a little playdate, and the kids got hungry.  We went downstairs and she pulled this pasta out of her fridge.  She had found the recipe on Pinterest and made it the night before.  Maybe it was the peer pressure of eating with other children, maybe it was the refreshing taste of another Mommy's cooking, either way Jack attacked that pasta like the cat attacks a can of tuna fish. This was the first time he ate pasta that wasn't macaroni shaped.  I was shocked, then I was thrilled, because it had avocado in it.  Avocado is a vegetable!

Here's the recipe.

The next day I made the same pasta, carefully evading questions from Mike as to the contents.  I sat down to eat, willing my smile to stay hidden, and watched as Jack and Mike dug in.  He liked it, hey Mikey!  It was a miracle.  My husband was eating avocado pasta.  I made it again a few weeks later and again Mike enjoyed it. 

Here comes the first mistake. 

The next day I was talking to my sister and suggested she try the avocado pasta I had made.  Mike turned, cocked his head, and asked "when did you make that?" 

"Last night," I replied, "that's the pasta you like so much." 

"Oh..." I could see Mike's mind running through his list of acceptable and unacceptable foods.  Bacon: acceptable.  Carrots: unacceptable.  Steak: acceptable.  Broccoli: unacceptable.   Sausage: acceptable.  Avocado... what was an avocado?  Did it come from an animal?  Could it be purchased at the butcher counter at Harter House?  Would it taste good wrapped in bacon?  No, no, and no.  Avocado: unacceptable.

I knew then that my short run with avocado pasta was probably over.  I hoped that if I waited a while and snuck it in again he wouldn't remember. 

*****

Today was the big day.  Mike and Jack played while I made dinner.  They had a good game of Basket-Head.

This recipe is really easy, and you get to use your Cuisinart to blend up the sauce.  I had loaded the contents and started blending when a friend called.  I just couldn't blend and talk on the phone, so Mike took over for a minute while I stepped into the other room. 

This was my second mistake.  When presenting a mystery dish, it is best to keep the guest away from the kitchen during the preparation of said dish.  Unfortunately, Mike was right there, blending away, watching the avocado splatter against the sides of the blender.  This was undeniably a vegetable, getting pureed and hidden into his food.  The jig was up.

Dinner was ready quickly and we all sat down to eat.  Jack was buoyant.  He got to eat three things he loved: crescent rolls, avocado pasta, and blueberries.  I was happy, too.  Not only did I love all three foods, but I love when I get to eat a vegetarian meal.

I looked across at Mike and saw him frowning at the blueberries.  How could I forget?  Mike doesn't eat blueberries!  This marks my third and final mistake.

I hoped that when Mike tried the pasta he would like it, and he could forget all about the hidden vegetable.  The pasta just didn't taste as good this time, though, and I wasn't so lucky.  Mike's only comment was "This is really green." 

And... curtain. 

I knew it was over.  He politely tried to eat his roll and his green pasta.  He appreciated the chicken I had added to his pasta (I would be out on the street if I served him a vegetarian meal). 

After an awkward silence, I apologized.  "I'm sorry for being selfish and making a meal that only I like," I told him. 

Being the good sport that he is, he graciously admitted to doing the same thing many times.  He pointed out several examples.  Caught up in the spirit of confession, I admitted that I didn't like pork chops, which was last night's dinner.  Last night he had asked if I didn't like the dinner, and I had told him that I wasn't hungry.  Nope... I just didn't like the dinner.

Hey, not every night is a winner.  Sometimes you have to take one for the team.

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.