Death (and a bowl of soup)

This week I lost two people from my life - two drastically different people who affected me profoundly, though neither of them likely knew how much.

Jeannie was 44 years old.  She was married to an old high school friend of mine, and I only met her in person a couple of times.  But we had become Facebook friends a few years ago and had a lot in common.  We'd share stories of our boys, who are similar ages, or she'd ask me for a recipe from time to time.  I "liked" her pictures, and she "liked" mine.  Facebook gets a bad rap sometimes, but I have to say if it wasn't for Facebook I would not have come to know this woman as well as I did, and I do feel my life is better for having known her.  Sadly, she lost her battle with lymphoma.  And the reality of losing a friend who is almost exactly the same age I am has hit me hard.

And then there was Uncle Dick.  He had a lot of illnesses, too many to list, and had suffered greatly the last few years.  They finally admitted him to hospice care last week, and he died this morning.  I have very strong memories of visiting him in Colorado when we were kids.  He was a large, loud man, always yelling at somebody about something.  He was scary.  But he was also kind, fun, and probably the most amazing "shade tree mechanic" the world has ever known.  The last time I saw him was a few years ago.  He had lost both legs to diabetes, and his heart was failing.  He had remarried and seemed a kinder, gentler soul than he had been when I was a kid.  I liked that.

Maybe there's something about being "middle aged" that makes death seem more sad.  When you are young, and somebody dies, you think that's something that happens to old people.  But when you're 43, and someone dies who's 44; or someone dies who you grew up knowing and loving, you start to feel your own mortality.  Today I feel sad, and I feel vulnerable.  And yes, in a way, I feel old.  Last week I thought a lot about the phases we go through in life - watching our friends get married, having babies, divorces - well I forgot about this phase, the one where people start dying.

Roasted Tomato Bisque

Today seems like a good day for some comfort food, don't you think?  I made this Sandwich King recipe last week and it's very easy and very good.  There's nothing quite like a good bowl of homemade soup to make you feel better when you're hurting.  The Sandwich King served his with a grilled cheese sandwich, but the soup is good on its own, too.

First I spread some (drained) canned whole tomatoes onto a cookie sheet, along with carrots, and onions, and tossed them with olive oil and brown sugar.  Then I tossed them into the oven to roast until they were nicely caramelized.  Be sure to use either some parchment paper or a silicon sheet, as these got a little sticky.  (The burnt parts are the sugar that stuck to the baking sheet - I didn't add the black stuff to the final recipe.)

Meanwhile, in my favorite large soup pot I heated up some olive oil and butter, then sauteed dried chili flakes and garlic until soft.  I then added some tomato paste and some red wine.  (The recipe calls for sherry but I didn't have any on hand.)  I let it boil for a couple of minutes to cook off the alcohol.

When the roasted vegetables were done, I added them to the soup pot along with the tomato/wine mixture, some crushed tomatoes, and some chicken stock.  I let them simmer for 15 minutes, then put the soup into my blender to puree it.  Then I added the soup back to the pot and whisked in some heavy cream.  I tasted for seasoning, then served with a dollop of sour cream.

Marriage and (Chicken Tikka) Masala

On our second date my not-yet-husband took me to Vancouver for dinner.  He said we were going for Chinese food.  Well, kinda.  Let's just say it was "authentic" Chinese food.  There was no Sweet 'n Sour Pork or General Tso's Chicken to be found in this restaurant.  In fact, this wasn't just a date.  It was a test.  Or, some might say, a prelude to an episode of a popular TV show at the time: "Fear Factor."

Let's just say I passed.  I ate the "1000 Year Old Duck Egg" soup without so much as a gag.  He was impressed.  I soon received a lovely engagement ring to prove it!  This was over 15 years ago, and we are still going strong, brought together by a lot of common values and interests - not the least of which is food.  And, looking back, this nurturing of a common (if not fattening) interest has helped keep our marriage strong.  When our kids were little, we tried to have frequent date nights where we'd head up to Vancouver to "our" Chinese place and get more of that yummy soup.  Or we'd hit a great Indian place for Chicken Tikka Masala, or even a food cart (our latest craze) for a weird hot dog.  As the kids got older, and we were able to leave for longer periods, we started taking trips a few times a year - yes, just him and me! - to food-centric places like Portland and San Francisco, munching our way through town and enjoying every moment of it.

While at the time these felt more like escapes from the reality of family, home, and work, in hindsight I can see they have also helped to strengthen our marriage and help us retain that identity we had as a couple before our life was consumed by all-things-children.  Yes, we still take family trips (and yes, we still eat well on those too) but as I see friends around me who are struggling in their marriages I have to wonder if ours is a little stronger because we nurtured our common interest(s) while the kids were young.  I know people who have been married for years who are going through divorces, and who rarely had a date night and never took a single kid-free vacation during their entire marriage.  I think that, as a society, in our very noble and genuine effort to raise good kids a lot of people have forgotten what led to those kids in the first place: a strong, healthy relationship with their spouse or life partner.

So this blog post is in honor of date night.  If you're married and have kids, remember to re-kindle that  common interest - whether it's food or bowling or hiking or whatever - and don't let it die.

Aarti's Chicken Tikka Masala

Jeff and I love ethnic food, especially Chinese and Indian.  When I saw one of my favorite Food Network stars, Aarti Sequiera, make this recipe on her show I just knew I had to try it at home.  It's so good!  And a little tip to the parents out there: if your children don't like spicy, save a few of the grilled chicken pieces aside and serve them plain with the rice.  The kids love it!

So first I make Aarti's yummy ginger-garlic paste - I toss equal parts chopped garlic and fresh ginger into the food processor with some olive oil.  Process until smooth.

Now, combine this with plain yogurt and other spices (see Aarti's recipe) in a big bowl.  Add your chicken pieces, cover, and let marinate for at least 1/2 an hour but the longer the better.

Meanwhile, saute the onions in a big pot.  When they are nice and caramelized, add the tomato paste and then stir in the ginger-garlic paste and stir it all together into a nice sauce.

When the chicken is done marinating, grill it until nicely browned on the outside.  (It will finish cooking in the sauce.)

When it's done grilling (both sides) nestle the pieces into your big pot of sauce and let simmer.

After about 20 minutes, add the heavy cream.  (You can use regular milk too - just use a little less so the sauce doesn't get watery.)

Stir it all together until it's nice and creamy.

Now if you're really in the mood to cook you can make some homemade Naan - an Indian flatbread.  Or you can buy it frozen at Trader Joe's.  I like to serve the chicken over basmati rice and garnish it with fresh chopped cilantro and slivered almonds.  Yum yum!

If You Feed Them, They Will Come

I'll admit it. I was scared of becoming the mother of teenagers. As my little boys grew up, I pretended it would never happen...that I could just live in the moment and everything would work itself out as the years passed. But, eventually, adolescence arrived in our household.


Having teenaged twins is a lot of fun, punctuated by moments where I wonder if my boys would prefer their dad and I moved away to a tropical island and left them to fend for themselves.


Some days (most, lately) they don't even want to be in the same room with us. I'm thankful that I still remember my own teen years, and how hanging out in my room was my preferred evening activity. I'm also thankful for our psychology textbook, which reassured me this week that this behavior is perfectly normal.


I try to look forward to those times when one of the boys voluntarily emerges from his “cave” and interacts with me. No matter the topic – something at school, a movie, or life in general – I have committed myself to engaging with them during these rare occasions, no matter what I'm doing at the time. I hope, in some way, I'm making a positive impact. Meanwhile, I figure if I keep feeding them yummy dinners they'll have to come up and see me every once-in-awhile.


Poor Man's Pho


In honor of teenagers and their amazing appetites, I created this very cheap/easy version of pho. It doesn't taste exactly like the restaurant version, but it's still pretty good. Plus, bonus, it smells great so it's more likely to lure teens out of their rooms to come and talk to you for a few minutes while it's cooking.


First, you'll need a package of Picante Beef Top Ramen (pictured above).  You'll also need some cinnamon and some soy sauce.  The Sriracha sauce is optional, but mandatory if you love it spicy!

Prepare the Top Ramen according to package directions, adding the enclosed spice packet, a few shakes of soy sauce, and one or two dashes of cinnamon.  This is what gives it that semi-authentic pho flavor.  You can also add a TINY pinch of cloves if you have some.  Just don't go overboard.

While the noodles are cooking, chop up some cilantro, green onions, and a chili pepper.  You can also add lime wedges or bean sprouts if you have them on hand.

Another optional ingredient is meat - if I have some leftovers, I will add a little cooked beef, chicken, or shrimp.  However, it's just as good without.  I like to add this after the noodles have cooked, just to re-heat it.

When the noodles are done and the meat is hot, ladle some into a big bowl and add the cilantro, green onions, chili pepper slices, and a couple of (optional) squirts of Sriracha.  Enjoy!

A Recipe for Perfect Parenting?

I have a really great mother-in-law. She's in her 80's now, and slowing down a bit, but she is still full of sage wisdom and great advice. Sometimes, though, I feel she's being a little judgmental - especially when it comes to my cooking.

If you've followed this psychology-meets-cooking blog, you've probably noticed I like to post recipes. Except I don't really follow specific recipes (and I'm saying this as someone who also religiously collects cookbooks and has a disorganized pile of handwritten "recipes from friends" and magazine clippings that might qualify me for my own episode of "Hoarders"). Sure, I'll use the occasional recipe, but I often deviate - adding thyme instead of rosemary, an extra pinch of salt, or even using pork instead of chicken. And even though my husband says he fell in love with me when I made him my meatloaf, I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I don't have a recipe for meatloaf and, in fact, in all the years we've been together I have never made the same meatloaf twice. This, by the way, drives my mother-in-law crazy.

You see, JoAn (that's my mother-in-law) was raised in a different world. Girls attended home economics classes and were taught to religiously follow recipes. They also raised their kids a lot differently than we do, too. They were much more strict, and things our kids are allowed to do these days would (and do) cause people of JoAn's generation much grief. And, for the most part, her generation raised some pretty great kids - all, I might add, without the overwhelming media influences we have today.

Which begs the question: is there a recipe for being the perfect parent? Did the older generation have it all figured out? Do children really learn better from a good lashing with the belt than with 4.5 minutes in a time-out chair? Is it more imperative for a father to be an authoritarian than to attend Boy Scout meetings with his son? Should we all move our children to farms to teach them what "real work" is? IF there was a recipe for perfect parenting, what would the ingredients be? I sure would like to know!

This week's reading assignments have left me feeling a bit hopeless as a parent. I fear that, without even noticing, I have started to become one of those "parent-advocate" types described in the Hymowitz article. Is it too late to change what I've started? Can you change the recipe half way through the cooking process?

Grandma JoAn's Hamburger Soup

JoAn, my mother-in-law, follows recipes very carefully when she cooks anything. This is why her spaghetti sauce tastes the same today as it did when I first met her nearly 20 years ago. One of her most famous recipes is for Hamburger Soup, and I was honored when she shared it with me for a cookbook fundraiser I participated in a few years ago. Here, in her honor, I shall follow the recipe exactly.

Brown and drain one pound of ground beef.

Chop up the carrots, celery, and onions.


The "secret" to the Hamburger Soup is the use of whole peppercorns. JoAn loves to warn people before they eat the soup..."watch out for those peppercorns"!

Saute the veggies in a big pot.


Add the browned/drained ground beef, a can of chopped tomatoes, and the spices and combine well.

Mix up your beef broth. I use "beef base" from Cash 'n Carry because I love the flavor. JoAn would use one of those cute little beef broth cubes that are wrapped in foil.

Add the broth to the beef/veggie mixture and bring to a boil.


Simmer for 30 minutes, then return to boil and add the pasta; cook 15 more minutes.


Yum yum!

Hurry up, kids, it's time for dinner!

A few days ago I was roaming through one of those roadside junk/antique stores that would be a prime setting for an episode of “American Pickers”, and I ended up in the book section. I noticed a book that stood out to me – I can't remember the exact title, but basically it was about how rushed families are these days, how to live a simpler life, etc. It was exactly the kind of self-help book you might see today on the shelves at Barnes & Noble. Except, this book was written in the 1950's. The problems it listed, though, were the same ones discussed by David Elkind more than 10 years ago in his article, "The Hurried Child".

I got to thinking, maybe this has always been a problem. Once humankind moved out of caves and into mud huts and then out of mud huts and into houses, parents probably started complaining about life moving too fast and kids being too rushed. Once again, it is all about perspective.

As a parent, I often do find myself rushing my kids. There is always, it seems, a need to be somewhere other than where we are, and to get there as quickly as possible. While I have intentionally limited my children's extracurricular activities to just one or two per child, things can still get hectic when all that is multiplied by three children, school, work, and general family/parenting obligations. Still, I often find myself longing for times when we are able to relax as a family, going camping or just hanging out at home, when there is nothing to be done and no place to be. Maybe this is how it was for the cavemen, in a much more basic sort of way. Or maybe they were just too darned tired from all the hunting and foraging to worry about such things.

Urban Garlic Chicken

In today's fast-paced world I like to try to keep my freezer stocked for those days when I know there won't be a lot of time to cook a healthy meal. This is one of my family's favorites - it's from the book "Fix Freeze Feast" by Bellingham's own Lindsay Tkacsik. I try to make 8 chickens at a time (wait for them to go on sale!) and do everything assembly-line style.

First I mix up some yummy spices and portion them out (along with cooking oil) to rub on my 8 chickens.

Then I rinse my chickens in the sink, removing the giblets. The cavemen would probably have eaten the giblets. I cook mine up and feed them to the dog.

Working 4 at a time, I arrange the chickens on baking sheets like sentries lined up for battle.d

Each chicken gets rubbed with some oil...

...then sprinkled with spices. Let the rubbing begin!

After all the chickens are rubbed...

...my hands look like this.

I carefully place each rubbed chicken into a gallon-sized freezer bag (pre-labelled with a Sharpie pen) and squeeze out all the air. Now they are ready to cook on those crazy days when I'm yelling "hurry up!" at the kids.

Parenting from the Pantry

(Dedicated to my Grandma Louise, 1915-2011)

Back in the old days (whenever that was), life seemed a lot more simple than it is today. Sure, in a lot of ways things were tougher, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it helped build peoples' character, gave them something to work toward, made men out of boys. (These are all things my grandfather would say!)

My grandma raised eight children in a farmhouse not much bigger than my living room. The boys worked the farm, fed the animals, tilled the fields, and rounded up the cows - and this was all after walking 4 miles each way to and from school. The girls took care of the house, did the laundry, and kept everybody fed. The babies were always close by, with someone to attend to their needs and keep them out of trouble. These days we call that "attachment parenting." Those days I suppose they called it something like, oh, just plain old "parenting."

When I see lists like the one in the "Attachment Parenting Video" we watched this week, frankly I get a little annoyed. Have we really reached the point where we need a perky fake newscaster to tell us how to nurture our babies? Are we that out of touch with reality that we must memorize the "7 Baby B's" which - let's face it - are basically just common sense? News flash, yes, you should HOLD your baby when it's crying! You should FEED your baby when it's hungry! Gosh, I feel better now - hopefully the word will get out and spread like wildfire.

Back at the farmhouse, they were miles from the nearest grocery store - and even if they felt like running there for a quick trip they didn't have the money to do so. They had to make do with what they had. Grandma and the girls would spend all summer tilling the garden, and all fall canning various veggies, fruits, jams and relishes for the family to eat over the winter. They'd bury potatoes and onions in sawdust down in the basement, and grandpa and the boys would slaughter cows and hunt deer for meat. When it was time to think about dinner, grandma didn't run down to Fred Meyer...she ran to the pantry. And when grandma's babies cried, she didn't turn on You Tube to see what Dr. Whoever had to say about it. She picked up the baby to see what it needed - a meal? A diaper change? A cuddle? Grandma figured it out!

Attachment parenting is basically doing what comes naturally, out of necessity. Just like cooking from the pantry. When things get tough...when money is tight or you're snowed in for a week...you make do with what you have.

Stuck-in-a-Snowstorm Black Bean Chicken Chili (with a Cornbread Crust)

On Day 4 of our recent snowstorm I found myself in need of some dinner ideas and unable to make my usual "quick trip" to Fred Meyer to pick up supplies. So I did what would have come naturally to grandma: I headed to the pantry!

First, I grabbed a couple of cans of beans, some corn, and some diced tomatoes.

I poured all of the canned stuff into the crockpot, along with some diced leftover chicken breasts from the freezer, a chopped onion, and some crushed garlic. (Grandma would have had to go down to the basement and dug hers out of the sawdust. Luckily I had some in the fridge.)

I also added chopped cilantro, a tablespoon of cumin, and a couple of tablespoons of chili powder, plus some salt and pepper. Once it was all mixed up, it looked pretty good!

Meanwhile, I mixed up a batch of cornbread batter - I always keep a few boxes of Jiffy in the pantry. It is cheap and easy to make, plus my kids love it which is always a bonus. I suppose grandma would have ground her own corn for this, but I wouldn't even know how to do that!



After the batter was done, I poured it onto the chili.

Then I spread the cornbread over the top of the chili, put the lid on, and cooked it on low for 8 hours. It was so beautiful in the end I forgot to take a picture. But trust me, it was good. Grandma would have loved it too! (But she'd have been upset that I didn't can my own beans.)