I Thought You'd Never Ask!

Anne Russell has kindly indulged me by asking after the puzzle. Oh, this old thing? This thing that represents senselessly wasted weeks of my life? Voy-la:


Michael read something recently about how it's great to play board games with your children precisely because they're so pointless: it communicates to your kids a desire to spend time with them for no other reason than to spend time with them. Of course, that totally suits me, given my profound love of board games (Hi-Ho Cherry-O, Chutes and Ladders, and Candyland excepted). But I figure it's the same with puzzles. Only, it's just me. And therefore both narcissistic and schizophrenic. Alas.

Moving on:


Pancakes! The best pancakes in the world. Which I posted, coincidentally, the day before IHOP's famous benefit pancake give-away! The last thing I ate at an IHOP were blueberry blini when I was pregnant with Birdy. And I left them in the parking lot, if you know what I'm saying.

xo

Happy Spring!

Okay, it's not really spring. But I have been repeating, "Look at the gorgeous light!" all week like a Pollyanna parrot.

Did you want to read about how revolting chicken is, followed by a recipe? I thought so! I've got just the thing for you.

And here, just for you, is a photo I excluded from the column. Parsley a little too sparsely. Or maybe not sparsely enough.

Maybe I could spend the 99 cents for a fresh bunch before trying to photograph it? No?

Romance

Oh my gosh, remember Birdy's valentines? Ben was just reminiscing about them and we got to laughing all over again. It seems like only yesterday that she was a chubby almost-four-year-old pummeling her little pals with sentimental snippings of death and devils. And now she's a skinny almost-six-year-old decorating bookmarks with doily bits. "No offense, but do your friends even read?" Ben asked, and although I called him on the tone, he did have a point. But that poor Birdy. She's sick, sick, sick with a fever--the kind where one minute they're lethargically nibbling dry Cheerios from a mug and the next they're lethargically drifting away into a fretful nap that they don't even wake up from when you sneak in to turn off Clifford. That's okay. "I know all these by heart," she'd said earlier about our little DVD of episodes. "They all end with sharing." Indeed.

Please go to family.com for my super-duper fancy-schmancy easy-peasy Valentine's Day recipe. And let them know you were there! They like to know that.


I took this picture just yesterday! Is that the face of a kid who's coming down with something? Actually, maybe it is. The smile doesn't quite make it the rest of the way up her face.

Thank You

As always, thank you. Your indignation over Wondertime's ending was just what I needed. I even forwarded it to all the folks there, because sometimes it feels good to wallow collectively. Your kindness is so helpful, and your words so inspiring. I will, of course, be all right.


Because I've applied for a Two-Thousand-Piece Jigsaw Puzzle Grant from the U.S. government!


Also, a Hanging Out With Birdy Grant. As soon as one of those comes through, we'll be all set!

Meanwhile, here's a new recipe over at Family.com. Remember how you wanted a school lunch recipe? That's what it is. While you're over there, you may notice my little Super Bowl recipe from yesterday; "little" is the operative word. I did not exactly go all out.

Hope you are thriving.

xo Catherine

Silver Linings

I know I can be kind of a Polyanna girl. But this morning? Our car was frozen to the driveway like it was in one of those Crazy Glue commercials from the 70s with that guy's construction helmet cemented to a pylon, and so we walked to school. And in the woods, it was as if the trees had been encased in glass. I have never seen anything quite like it, everything glittering and silver like we were in a magic forest inside a fairy tale. And on the way Ben invited a game called "Light Stepper" where you tried to tread softly to keep yourself atop the crust of snow--and of course the kids could do it, because they are as weightless and agile as cats or angels, while their father and I clomped through up to our knees. An ice storm is so treacherous and just so breathtakingly beautiful.

And so it is, right? Many of you have heard of the Wondertime ending by now, and I can't tell you how much your support means to me. Thank you for your words here, and there, and your thoughts--it's such a gift. I am, like my fellow Wondertime folks, heartbroken and worried and overjoyed to have been a part of something so lovely. These are hard times for so many people, but buoyant ones too. Our Dogwood is encased in ice, and yet the spring buds are there already, glittering like glass beads, shining with promise.

God. Sorry. I am such a wreck.

Meanwhile: tamale pie! It's over at family.com, right here, where my food column will continue live a full and rich life. Please visit.

Take care! Drive carefully! Stay warm.

xo Catherine

p.s. I forgot to mention that I have a short piece in this month's Redbook magazine. About romance. Because you know how romantic I am.

A Long Time Coming

Don't worry, I haven't gone all unromantic on you. I was going to post a photo of the ballroom dancing (oh those smiles I could look at for the rest of my life!) or, to be funny, of the helicopter taking off (see ya!) or of the crowd in joyful tears, like we all were yesterday. But then, today, there is this--and this is what it's all about. We are so blessed.

Meanwhile, for a culinary non sequitur, there is borscht. Here. Plus, there are many more soup recipes in the February issue of Wondertime. Boy was my family eating a lot of soup while we were testing those: "What's for dinner?" was our favorite joke.

Love to you and yours.

xo

New Recipes

Gosh, I'm sorry I haven't written here in so long! I've been really, really busy.


But I do have two new recipes up at wondertime--one for corn chowder and one for a puffy oven pancake. They're both here.

There's something a little funky going on at family.com, where you can only see the two most recent recipes. But the whole archive is still up at wondertime, here.

Check in this week if you can--about what recipes you've tried, what's working, what you'd like to see more of. (First I wrote "more or less of," but then I worried that I was really courting your irritation with, say, photos of my kids in their pajamas or my various exhortations about salt.) And post over at wondertime if you're able. I'm always grateful for that.

I hope you're all settling happily into what feels like the "real" winter to me--that stretch after the holidays when it is all about the snow and the ice and the bright blue sky. Soon we'll smash our gingerbread houses with a hammer: a ritual that marks the official end of something here. (Our sanity, maybe?)

xo Catherine

Leftovers

Have your holidays been marvelous? Ours have. I have hardly even noticed the wax from the menorah candles splashing onto my freshly painted windowsill and leaving colored waxy dents in the smooth white. Ahem.

But otherwise, it's been love and joy and ham around here. The ham recipe is up at wondertime over here.

Soon, we'll be taking the tree down. Sigh. But until then, we'll enjoy our family's rich and varied history. Ahem.

Love and joy to you. xoxo

Happy Everything to You

Dear ones, there are new columns up at wondertime: Dinner Beans, for an unphotogenically humble meal, and Maple Snow Taffy, for an outrageous winter treat.

And my favorite holiday card outtakes, below--not the weird half-shut-eye ones, but the ones that just perfectly express who the kids are.

Wishing you peace and joy, health and happiness, and a new year filled with love.

xo

Vanilla

Dear ones. A very fun recipe for vanilla extract is up here, at wondertime.

Can we get a running list over there of your favorite recipes with vanilla in them? I was thinking that, for a gift, it would be fun to package the extract with a recipe.

Meanwhile, my ears are still stuffed, and all of the humor and nuance in my life seems to have drained straight into my eustachian tubes. Where there was once wit and laughter, there is now me tugging on my pinna and yawning with the kind of deranged intensity that makes people step away from you in line at the post office. Also, it's boring to talk about, as is indicated herewith.

xo

Welcome back,

dear friends. I have written about carrot salad, here, and--if you didn't get to it last week--about cranberry upside-down cake, here. I am loving this change to food and recipes, but I am sad that it leaves me frankly no occasion to tell you about what happened on Friday when I applied a neti pot to my clogged sinuses. All I will say is that Michael, who was in the bathroom with me when it happened, cried, "Holy cow!" as an entire universe slid out my nose and down the drain.

I am also finding little excuse to talk with you about how nine turns out to be the age of ages. Do you know what I mean? Does it last, this golden time? Oh, I want it to.

Love to you and yours.
xo

Veggies and Dip



Wouldn't it be funny to put out a huge bowl of whole root vegetables with your dish of dip? Just to see what people would do? No? Oh. For some reason, it seems hilarious to me. Then again, I was once arranging lodging for an especially difficult and prickly visiting poet who had requested an elaborate fruit bowl, and the idea of leaving her a whole watermelon with a plastic spork kept me entertained for nearly a week.

Anyways, the new food column is fancy holiday veggies and dip, and even if it might usually be enough to tear open a bag of baby carrots and bloop out a dish of ranch dressing, please go check it out. Oheveteli has already suggested that it's "not the sexiest topic" but oh, the possibilities are endless. Don't make me post the dirty dip photos.

Sweets for the Sweet

Okay, so I can't resist telling you that in the print edition of December's Wondertime magazine, there are seven of my best holiday-giving recipes--seven!--including, but not limited to, Salted Caramel Popcorn (to die for), Macaroon Marshmallows (to die for), and Lemon Rosemary Shortbread (to die for). Plus, 3 chocolate things and salty-sweet-spicy nuts (to die for). I'm sorry not to be more modest.


And thank you for responding so sweetly to my piece in this month's O magazine.

xo

I just spent 17 or so minutes trying to photoshop this picture so that it would look like I was on a wild ride with Barack Obama, because I am high-larious like that. But then, you know what? My expression here is the next best thing to a high-tech collage. Because that's how I feel, that face. I feel just exactly like that, all the time. Although I was a bit disappointed after I heard he was making thank-you calls on Wednesday; I waited by the phone and everything. But still. The bumper cars face.

Anyways, that's not why you're here. You're here for gingerbread, as well you should be. The recipe is here, and you should make it because it's delicious. That's how I feel.

Tofu

Hello! Thank you all for your ongoing support, even those of you who are offering it only grudgingly or with great, sighing crankiness. I will take it however it comes.

Meanwhile, I am having a ball trying to take pictures of our dinner that don't look like bad family reunion snapshots from the seventies. Maybe its my children's Leif Garrett hairstyle? Not sure. (Oh dear, when I went to Wikipedia good old heartthrobby Leif, the only picture they have is a balding mugshot from one of his multiple arrests in later life. Feathered hair would be the least of his problems these days. Oy.)

Anyways, the new recipe column is up here.

And thank you to anonymous, who posted the link to the chewy granola bar recipe on the King Arthur website. I have already made them, and we loved them, though at first the recipe seemed like it was going to produce only a panful of crumbs. They set up a great deal as they cool. It would help, however, if I used the right kind of oats and/or remembered to add the water they call for. Duh. Still, we used chocolate chips, dried cherries, and pecans, and they were quite heavenly. Perfect lunchbox treats.

Blah blah blah granola bars blah when do we vote already. I know. Tell me about it. I'm just trying to keep myself busy until I can go mark my ballot. Bring your kids to the booth: it's a great opportunity to show them the opposite of cynicism. Which is, I suppose, hope.

yours hopefully, xo, Catherine

More News from the Campaign Trenches

Birdy: "Instead of the whole big election, couldn't they just do eeny meeny miny moe?"

Meanwhile, while you're waiting--hopeful or panicking or some combination--why not make a big soothing panful of granola? The recipe is up here now.

Three bags of it have gone out to the comment-sweepstakes winners. I have a growing fear that I packed it while it was still warm and so what will arrive in the mail is a Ziploc full of soggy condensation, but surely you'll be too polite to say.

Also, I should mention, Ben turned 9. Nine years old. Which is halfway to eighteen, if you catch my drift. When I sighed aloud over this fact, Ben said, "Don't worry, Mama, I'm totally not going to college anyways." So phew.

And the Winner Is. . .

corrie71, who wrote simply, "My cats inspire me to relax and enjoy life more."

No. I'm kidding.

It was a grueling process, complicated by the fact that many of you quested heroically towards leaving a comment on family.com--without achieving any tangible success. Alas. And thank you. I counted your noble efforts.

In the end, there was a bowlful of comments to be sifted.


And pulled from.


And the winners are (I picked three):

laura (whose comments starts, "As lauri wrote. . .")
anonymous (whose comment starts, "Ok, it's done. Disney just loves to make us pay in every way. . .")
and imnoddin.

Write me to pick your prize: a gallon bag of homemade granola, an apple print t-shirt personalized with your name, or a year's subscription to Wondertime magazine.

Let me say here how dreadfully sorry I felt for Stacey, who was not able to post from Italy. Doubtless, you cried all the way to the trattoria, and then all the way through your gnocchi with gorgonzola and your giant glass of Chianti. Terrible, terrible.

Okay, today's new food column is here, and I apologize in advance for the photographs. Any and all tips welcome. . . Keep posting over there if you can. It is, as they say where I come from, good for the Jews.

xo Catherine

Thank You

You guys are the best. Truly. I knew I could count on you, but really. . . Especially given that so many of you are, it turns out, less than interested in food and cooking. Who knew? But I should mention here that the Dalai Mama columns will continue to appear in Wondertime magazine, the print edition. If you don't have a subscription, I really can't recommend that magazine to you enough (she wrote, with full, solemn objectivity). Seriously.

The sweepstakes is ending at midnight EST tonight, Sunday. I will announce the prize tomorrow. What will it be? A framed shard of the boob pinata? A collection of old nursing pads? Some numbingly boring something else? We'll see.

Change

Dear ones, as some of you may have already noticed, my Dalai Mama column over at Wondertime.com is shifting from a bare-all chronicle of nipple hair and urinating mice to a bare-all chronicle of dinner. I promise there will be useful recipes, even though yes, it's true, I did once make a 5-gallon jar of sauerkraut that bubbled fragrantly in our pantry for yeasty, fermented months on end. . . but trust me. Everyday dinners, wholesome and delicious cooking, seasonal, earth-friendly, budget-friendly, kid-friendly approaches--it's going to be all that! And more. And more Catherine Newman than Gourmet, if you know what I'm saying here. And what I'm saying is that I don't know how to take pictures of meat. But I'm also saying that the parenting stuff will be in there--you might just have to look harder for it.

Please, please stay with me. And please, please log on to family.com and leave comments, even if you need to give them your retirement account pin number and the deed to your home. I know, I swear. But that's what it's like, and I need your comments and your feedback, and I need it over there. I am trying to think of a good bribe to offer you for registering over there. How's this: register over there--it has to be over on family.com, where the plum cake is, not on wondertime.com, where the column has been until now--and leave a comment, then come back here and tell me. I will put all the names in a hat, pull one, and send someone a little as-yet-to-be-determined present. Is that crazy? You'll let me know.

So, the seal-poop wondertime post is here, the weepy commencement post is here, and the plum cake is here. You know I love you so much. I do. Thank you.

Common Sense

From a story on the current Times homepage: "It's not the first time the embassy has urged U.S. business travelers and tourists to stay away from Bulgarian strippers." Well, we all need a little reminder, right?

But what I really wanted to tell you was something I was going to show you--and it's our one-gallon jar of granola, full. Only I can't find the camera. I will be giving you the recipe soon, though not here, which is a kind of foreshadowing, if you know what I'm saying. Suffice it to say, the granola has more flax in it than you can shake a stick at, and my kids love it, and when I refill the jar, I just feel so happy. "It's like money in the bank," I sighed to Michael, while I was admiring it, and he laughed: “Bailout, shmailout. We got us a big giant jar of granola!”

Meanwhile, I hope you'll read my wondertime columns, which are here, here, and here.

And here's kids instead of granola.

Oh, and p.s. if you check out the comments from the last post, you will see that Brad Pedinoff, my summer camp boyfriend from 1983, wrote in. Honestly, the whole internet was worth inventing just for that.

Take care of yourselves!

xo