Oven Dried Tomatoes

I usually serve these with feta cheese and pitted kalamata olives as an appetizer. But they can be used on sandwiches or in salads. They are easy to make and always leave a big impressions on your guests. I used at least 6 tomatoes, but you can always do more. You can also make these with other types of tomatoes, but Romas are usually inexpensive and easy to find.

6, plus Roma tomatoes (really you can use any kind of tomato)
2 tablespoons olive oil
Garlic Powder
Freshly grated black pepper

1. Preheat Oven to 275°
2. Remove stem end of each tomato, then cut each tomato in half longways and seed.
3. Place each tomato cut side up onto a cookie sheet covered with aluminum foil
4. Drizzle with olive and sprinkle with garlic powder and grated pepper
5. Place in oven and bake for 2 hours, checking first at one hour and then again at half hour increments.

Nacho Popcorn

 This fabulous recipe is adapted from one I found on allrecipes.com.  I added more spices and changed the cooking mention of the popcorn topping. This recipe is perfect for any gathering. 

10 cups popped pop corn
1/4 cup unsalted butter
1 teaspoon paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese

1. Set aside popcorn in a large bowl, preferable a bowl with a lid
2. Mix together the spices and 1/3 cup of parmesan cheese.
3. Melt the 1/4 cup of butter on the stove in a small sauce pan. Once melted, add the spice/cheese mixture. Stir until well mixed.
4. Pour spice/sauce mixture over popcorn and mix well (if you are have a large covered bowl and simply shake until popcorn is well coated).

Broccoli and Tofu in a Spicy Peanut Sauce

This recipe is not of my own creation.  It is from the Enchanted Broccoli Forrest by Mollie Katzen. The Enchanted Broccoli Forrest is on of my favorite vegetarian cookbooks and I highly recommend it to anyone/everyone. 

Pesto Olive Grilled Cheese Sandwiches

Here is a delicious new twist on the classic grilled cheese.  Whether you are looking for something more sophisticated or you're looking to sneak some veggies into your child's meal, check these yummy sandwiches out.

8 slices of whole wheat bread
8 slices of swiss cheese
about 2 teaspoons of pesto
about 2 teaspoons of chopped kalamata olives
melted unsalted butter, about 2 tablespoons

1. Prepare your skillet, griddle or sandwich maker accordingly. I use a waffle maker/griddle which has to be pre-heated
2. Brush one side of each slice of bread with the melted butter.
3. Build the sandwich as follows: bread, swiss cheese, pesto, olives, swiss cheese, and bread. The bread should be butter side out.
4. Place the sandwich on your skillet, griddle or sandwich maker and cook until cheese is melted and the bread is toasted.
5. Serve warm and enjoy!
   

An 8-Man Team

My husband is coaching our oldest son's soccer team. This team is made up of 8 children all of whom are 4 or just turned 5.  Now, you might be expecting some hilarious stories about how this act of coaching is like herding cats, but alas you are going to be disappointed.  This post is about how we got an 8-man team. 

You see by design all the teams in this age group should be made up of 8 players.  Each coach was given the application forms from the parent(s) of each of the 8 children who are to be on his/her team.  Unfortunately things do not always go smoothly in this process (which is a shock because normally processes go smoothly, right).  As a result most of the teams in this age group are actually at the 7-member range (some are even smaller).  In the case of our team one of our participants had a severely incomplete application form.  There was nothing, but his name and an address.  My husband had contacted all the other kid's parents via email, but he was unable to contact this child's folks.  So he went to the address on the form only to discover it was the address for the office at an apartment complex.  Not knowing what to do next he contacted the head of our leagues division.  She promised to get us some more information.  Time marches on and we need to start practicing.  My husband soon discovered that he was on his own with this situation.  The contact for our division has no new info.  So, my every obsessive husband goes to the office of the apartment complex, which was listed at the little boy's address.  Turns out they office employees know the little well and they offer to get in touch with the parents for us.  It turns out that when they completed the form, the parents were in the process of moving and had no info on their new address or phone number. The league took their money and assured them that this would be okay.  

Most the coaches are not as obsessive as my dear husband. Most of the coaches were probably not raised by struggling college students like my husband who spent most of his childhood in student housing as his dad worked his way through law school with two children in tow.  So, much love and big hugs to my husband who did not assume the worst of someone and went the extra mile to make certain that every kid on his team got to play.  Enter Text Here

Hashbrown Casserole

2 lbs frozen hashbrown potatoes (the shredded kind)
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1 can of cream of mushroom soup
2 cups shredded medium cheddar cheese colby cheese

1. Preheat oven to 350°. Grease a 9x13 baking dish and set aside
2. Combine the soup, melted butter, salt, pepper, onion powder and cheese in a very large bowl .
3. Gently mix in the hash browns. until well coated.
4. Pour into baking dish and bake for 35 minutes

On Being a Mom

I always expected to be a mom and a stay at home mom at that.  My husband and I planned our lives to make this possible.  The thing that I did not anticipate was that I would not want to do it forever.  I expected to be 100% fulfilled by this whole motherhood thing, and that is just not the case.  I never imagined how my identity would slowly slip away and how I would become somewhat of a child myself. 

Let me set the scene for you: the property tax bill comes when my husband is out of town and I panic. I no longer have any idea how to transfer money from our savings to our checking account.  Not that this matters anyway, because the bill is not due for months.  So, not only have I lost the ability to bank, but I have also lost the ability to read a bill. I call this my 60s housewife moment. Once upon a time I lived in a city far far away from this calm California suburb and I had a job, which I used to pay my own bills.  I had a car, which did not smell of soured milk and stale throw-up. My clothes were tailored and crisp; and I only wore workout clothes for, well working out.

It is literally another lifetime for me and while at times I find myself at odds with this moniker: mommy.  I would not change it for the world. I love my children with all my heart.  They are the best of me and without them my life would not be complete.  

We are all moms, young or old and we all feel like misfits at times. Yup, even those allegedly "perfect" moms with their matching sweat suits, big shiny SUVs and $800 strollers.

Penne Alla Vodka

Trying something different today.  You see I also have a vegetarian cooking blog called My Veggie Table.  Lacto-Ovo vegetarian recipes, to be exact. This my favorite Penne Alla Vodka recipe

1 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes
1 14.5oz can of diced tomatoes
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 tablespoon tomato paste
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup vodka
1/2 cups heavy cream
1 lb penne or rigatoni pasta
grated Parmesan for serving

Measure out your vodka so that you have it at the ready.

Heat the oil in a large saucepan over medium heat until shimmering. Add the onion powder and the tomato paste, cook until well combined. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes. Cook until the garlic is fragrant.

Stir in the crushed tomatoes, diced tomatoes and the salt. Remove the pan from the heat and add the vodka. Return to the heat and bring to a slow simmer and allow to simmer for 15-20 minutes.

While the sauce is cooking start you pasta and cooking according to package directions or your personal taste. Drain the pasta well, but keep it warm until your sauce is done.

• Once the sauce has thicken remove it from the heat and add the heavy cream, stirring until well incorporated.

If desired add the pasta to the sauce to mix before serving.

Garnish with Parmesan cheese before serving.

I think I can

My husband and I have two small children, both boys ages 4 and 1 ½.   We live in a small house in Northern California where we eek out a meager living, with husband bringing home the bacon while I stay at home with the kids (think the Cleavers, but with more yelling and attitude).  At no point during our marriage did we intend to have more than 2 children.  We joke that we do not want to be out number and we sight the ease of the man on man defense over the zone as additional reasons. 

However, after the birth of our youngest son we briefly flirted with the idea of a third.  We discussed names and strategies for bringing up three.  In short we fantasized while in the throws of new baby bliss.  Yes, we both like the newborn phrase.  What can I say; we are weird that way.  As the reality of life with two sets in we quickly decided that perhaps two was just fine and we need not tempt fate.  I say we, but this was mostly my husband's idea. 

I mean I see his point and in a way I agree with him.  Three would be hard.  Things are so perfect now.  We have just enough room in our home, our car and our lives.  A third would be an adjustment.  BUT, our babies are so damn cute and we love them so damn much that I want a house full of them. I just cannot help myself.  I want more, and more, and more.  So, I niggle and I nag.  I remind him that babies are small and that children CAN share a room.  I site the fact that my own father had to share a bed with not one, but two of his brothers.  Despite my best efforts my husband is firm that we stop while we are ahead.   I am not one of those women to cause a " mistake".  I am an adult, I know where babies come from and I do not want to doop my husband into conceiving a third.  Damn my morals! 

As time passes and my youngest grows from a baby to a toddler, I begin see that my husband just might be right.  It will not be too much longer before diapers will be behind us.  Maybe one day we will be able to go on a family vacation with taking a pack n play, a potty, a stroller and the kitchen sink.  Things will be fun; we will have a new kind of freedom that comes from having kids and not babies.  Okay, this is good.  I can do this.  I can be without a baby.  This is good.  Right?  Oh, whom am I kidding?  The baby fever was still raging within my ovaries!  I was just playing along like a good girl when I realized that my period was late.  

Holy Crap and big WTF!  What now?  I was shocked to discover that I was in a panic.  I was shocked to feel dread and anger!  I was honestly not at all too happy about the thought to having that much lusted after third child!  You can imagine my relief when the stick showed a big no! Of course that was all it took for the period to start (tip: nothing starts a late period like paying $10 for a pregnancy test). 

With the certain knowledge that I fact did not want anymore children I decided to discuss a tubal ligation with my doctor when I went in for my annual exam.  Not problem she says.  She explains the procedure.  I sign all the forms and I am currently in my 30-day waiting period. BUT, now I am not so sure.  It is so permanent.  I am thinking that maybe I cannot do this.  I don't want more children, but I am not sure that I want to close the door on the possibility of having some (or at least one) more some day.

What makes you think you are so special?

Do you have someone in your life that makes certain that you never get to big for your britches?  Someone who ensures that just when things are looking good the chair gets kicked out from under you.  Well, do you? 

For me, this position has most commonly been filled by my own mother (Oh crap you say to yourself.  Another person with mommy issues--just wait---I think I might have point here somewhere).  No matter what, my mom will make certain that you know exactly what your flaws are. 

Just gave birth?  My mom will let you know in no uncertain terms that you look horrible in the photos, while everyone else looked good.  Really, the person who pushed an 8 lb being out of their vagina looks like crap but the man standing next to her (whose job in the birthing process ended 9 months prior) looks fresh as a daisy.  Have you recently lost weight?  Never fear, my mom will let you know in no uncertain terms that you how you still look fat and still need to lose about 100lbs. Pronouncements like these are usually followed closely by the preemptive addition:  I am only being honest. And any attempt on the part of the person upon whom this honesty is being heaped to garner some level of sympathy ALWAYS results in the following phrase:  What makes you think are you so special?

Oh how I hate this phrase!  It was hurled at me from every life event from prom to wedding. What made me think I was special enough to have either of those events paid for by my parents...or in the case of my wedding, even attended?  Well, honestly what did make me think I was so special?  My mom obviously pulled no punches.  I knew what my flaws were.  I knew what my shortcomings were.  I knew it all, nothing came as a surprise.  There was not A-HA moment when the raw truth of life hit me in the face.  Heck the raw truth of life had been shoved down my throat since childhood.   I went into adulthood knowing full well what challenges I faced and having a plan in mind of how to conquer them. 

Now, I am not suggesting that anyone start demeaning their child as a way to toughen them up for live...On no, don't do that.  While I came out of my childhood focused and prepared; I could have easily become a generous mound of blubbering insecurity (see my 56 yr old sister who has never been married or had a decent job and still lives with my parents).  I would think that my sister is more the rule in this case and I the exception.  Why am I the exception?  Why I am not occupying the room next to sister? 

Well, mostly because I am just narcissistic enough to not give a shit what my mother or anyone else thinks about me.  See, I got just enough of that narcissism for my mom be able to use it against her and move on and away from her.  So, when someone tells me that I am no good or that what I am going is wrong or incorrect.  I just think, “Shut up, you poseur bitch.  I have been insulted by far better than you and lived to tell the tale.  ”

Shameless

I have recently decided that I would like to make something of my blog, preferable something monetary.  I after all have needs.  Let's call it my mini-van fund or better yet I am so far underwater on my house I cannot see the surface fund.  In am attempt to diagnose what might be causing the lack of traffic on my blog I looked into my site analysis only to discover that the web is full of perverts looking for moms with fat asses. 

Okay, you are going to need some background on that.  You see I was previously using my attempt to lose weight as an ongoing blog topic and I called it my big butt reduction project.  Over time this endeavor began to bore well and me, let's be honest the emails from that older man in Maryland were skeeving me out.  SO, I stopped.  Low and behold I get a lot of hits off those posts.  As a result of gaining this insight, I wrote a post about how I was going to include off color words in all my post titles.  This post, called Big Ass Traffic also gets a lot of hits from the interweb; thereby proving that the web is filling with people looking for moms with big butts.  In the end I decided to not include any off color words in my blog titles, unless warranted.  I don't want to pander to the lowest common denominator.  Right?  That is not good.  Right?   

Anyway, not sure what my point was or if I ever had one.