Shelly Kramer and I Are Buying a Cow. You Should, Too.

Yes, I know the title is misleading because, well, I've recently gone vegetarian. But because I have not converted my husband or kidlets, I am still buying meat for them.

My social media expert and very knowledgeable BFF @ShellyKramer approached me recently as she knows me to be a Green Gal. We're both disgusted by what goes on behind the scenes in the food industry (see Food, Inc. for further details), and are concerned for our health and that of our children. Fortunately, Shelly is friends with a farmer in NE Kansas, and so we have the exciting opportunity to purchase a local, GRASS-fed (as opposed to corn-fed) cow that hasn't been treated with hormones and is allowed to graze naturally. Shelly and I are looking for other locals to go in on this cow with us (it's a lot of meat), so if you are interested, please get in touch with me a.s.a.p.

I just spent 20 minutes on the phone with Deborah, the farmer, who said that right now our cow is hanging out in a 40-acre pasture. The cows on the farm are rotated around the pastures in herds of about 15. They are not confined because that is what causes diseases. They are a licensed, certified organic farm, and their meat is federally inspected. Deborah said they "don't sell to just anyone," that ideally their goal is to build relationships with people who want to know their farmers and where their food is coming from. Isn't that incredible?

We will take the girls to visit the farm this fall and get to see our cow. I think that somehow, watching him just chillin' eating his grass and hay will help me feel a teensy bit better. At least he is living a pleasant life now, unlike his counterparts squeezed into cow lots, injected with hormones and antibiotics, never seeing the light of day and unable to move while standing in their own feces.

Now before you get your panties in a wad and start thinking I'm going all granola, I assure you I am not (not that granola is bad at all, in fact I kinda wish I was more granola-y). So here are some other (random) things about me:

• Yesterday I ate a non-organic apple with non-organic peanut butter
• I drive a gas-slugging minivan. And was belting out Bananarama on my way home from a grocery store that was not Whole Foods (although I try to shop there frequently).
• We have been drinking local Shatto milk for years now; and I only just realized that while it's a local dairy and they use glass bottles which I love, the cows are fed some corn. This gives me the sads. The cows are not given hormones, however. Whew!
• Some of my fave good-for-you/organic/all natural food brands include Kashi, Back to Nature, Stonyfield, Annie's Homegrown, & Newman's Own Organics.
• Occasionally Twinkies find their way into the pantry, and typically The Father Load is to blame for this.
• I have lofty notions of buying a Prius when the girls are a little older/bigger.
• I think I may be failing miserably at composting. Can someone please come evaluate the contents of my tumbler? I may also be tumbling too vigorously, as twice the contraption has belched out its contents all over the place. So I had to put it all back in by hand. It was tres lovely.
• FOR LADIES ONLY: you should seriously consider organic tampons. Did you know that they use chemicals like bleach on your Kotex/Playtex, etc? I don't want bleach & chemicals up inside of me where they're absorbed. I bought a Diva Cup a while back, but my ob/gyn told me best not to use it because of menstrual backflow which can lead to endometriosis.

Anycow, I am saying all this because I want you to know that I'm not perfect. There are Twinkies in my cupboard sometimes, there is garbage at my curb every Monday, and I still use paper towels (not as much). I've thought about chucking it all and going back to the way things used to be, wondering if one person/one family can really make a difference. But I've come too far. I am learning and educating myself more every day. Baby steps.

I encourage you once again to watch Food, Inc. Add it to your Netflix queue, go to Blockbuster, or see if it's playing On-Demand. We have got to start educating ourselves and moving in a better, healthier direction.

Why Jazzercise is Evil, or, Maybe I Should Quit Working Out Altogether

Home Alone Staring at Lots of Leftover Junk Food is Never a Good Thing, or Why My Ass is Big

The remnants of the girls' birthday cake are calling my name from the fridge. I'm home alone and I don't know how much longer I can hold out. That sweet, pillowy frosting. Oh no. The orgasmic chocolate cream filling in the middle. Oh my! The soft cake melting in my mouth like butta. Hellllllo, lover! It's rather unfortunate for my thighs that the little hooligans girls are more interested in their new loot than the leftover cake. It's pure gluttony. I can't help myself, I can't stop, aaaaack! ChompSlurpGulpSmack! And no amount of Jazzercise is going to cancel out the amount of cake I just consumed. Seriously, what is it with me & food? Why can't I be one of those girls who "forgets" to eat? Alas, it is just not meant to be. My love affair with food (and dessert in particular) is long and laced with sugar.

Abby & Izzy had a blast at their party. They fawned all over Funky Mama, who has been the bee's knees around here for several years now. They chattered so much Krista (Funky Mama's real first name) could barely get a word in edgewise. But Krista is a young mom herself, so she's not only used to it-- she thrives on it-- and kids are just naturally drawn to her. She is the cutest little thing I've ever seen and I couldn't have chosen a more positive & perfect role model for my kiddos!

There were a few kids who started out shy, but by the end everyone had warmed up and our basement became party central.

Now here's the rub. Funky Mama is releasing a new album in February. She will use some mommy blogs (a-hem, that would be someone like moi) to help get the word out. I'm trying not to get too excited, but she mentioned doing some giveaways via BlogLand. I will most definitely keep you posted because if you have young kiddos, you'll want to be in on this. So to get ready I want you to:

1.) Go check out Funky Mama's blog. Follow her.

2.) Go check out her site. Listen to clips of the songs. Heck, order a cd (they are $12 and so worth it) for yourself or for someone else as a gift!

3.) Become a Funky Mama Fan on Facebook.

That is all for now. More Hanukkah-related inspiration to come this week!

If you don't already own these, make sure you buy them for yourself before Hanukkah/Christmas/Kwanzaa!

This year, treat yourself to two of my favorite kitchen gadgets, both brought to you by Crate & Barrel.

First, the Rub Away Bar. I love this thing!! I cook with a lot of onions and garlic, and we also try to eat a lot of fish rather than red meat. My pet peeve is that my hands always reek after throwing dinner together! Lemon juice sometimes helps, but it makes my hands dry and if you have a cut, WATCH OUT! This bar sits at my kitchen sink right next to my Mrs. Meyers hand soap. I lather up then grab the bar and rub it around. Does the trick and does it fast! LOVE LOVE LOVE (and no, Crate & Barrel didn't make me post this)!

Second, pie crust protectors. I love to bake all kinds of things, but pies especially. It really gets my goat when the pie itself is perfect, but the crust burns. I used to wrap long skinny pieces of foil around the edges, but they'd fall off in the middle of the process and/or I'd burn myself trying to fix them mid-bake. These stay on and I can throw them right in the dishwasher afterwards. Since I have already baked 3 pies for today, they've basically paid for themselves!

What are the kitchen gadgets you can't live without?

Guest Post---"One Truffle At The Ritz" by my dad

Hello dear readers!

My mom is in town visiting and we've been quite busy. With Halloween coming this weekend, I confess I haven't got much time to write anything thoughtful; however, I wanted to share this lovely tidbit with you in the interim. I didn't even ask permission, but this is a short essay my dad recently wrote and submitted to Saveur Magazine. I think it's a great piece, and perhaps it will be a welcome change from my boring stuff! Would love to know what you think.

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ONE TRUFFLE AT THE RITZ


True food lovers are always ready for that singular new experience, whether it is the rare and exotic, the voluptuous and excessive, or simply the soul satisfying richness of the best of the tried and true; that moment,that first bite can be almost paralyzing in its intensity and, if the planets are properly aligned, can be relived and savored for a lifetime. I count myself among those fortunate (and perhaps relentlessly inquisitive enough) to have had several such food moments. One of my favorites was the experience of a unique dish at the Ritz in Paris in February, 1980.


I was a 31 year old lawyer in Paris for only the second time and on a side excursion after a London meeting of the American Bar Association. My wife, Julie, I and another couple, had decided to stay at the Ritz, certainly an extravagance, but one quickly and eagerly justified as a once in a lifetime experience. After all, what better time to go than with good friends; besides, Julie was seven months pregnant with our second child, so a little indulgence could be justified.


We arrived a little before check-in time and our rooms were not yet ready. Even without a room, we felt welcomed and cosseted by the hushed quietness of the public areas richly carpeted in plush oriental rugs on gleaming stone floors and furnished with rare and carefully polished antiques. It was winter and the hotel was sparsely populated, its silence punctuated only with the staff's murmurings and the quiet rustling of the maids' black taffeta skirts as they went almost invisibly about their duties. We had certainly "arrived," but were doing our best not to look as overwhelmed and intimidated as we felt. We tried to behave as if all this was second nature to us so as not to betray the "country come to town"reality of this group of four young people from Houma, Louisiana.


That night we decided to dine in the hotel as tired travelers (and pregnant women in particular) sometimes do. The large formal dining room was empty when we arrived. While we missed the energy and excitement of a crowd, there was still something almost reverential about the room. The linens, crystal, sliver, silk drapery, flowers and candlelight watched over by several tuxedoed staff members created something resembling an empty stageset. We had to choose whether to be lonely guests in an empty hotel restaurant, or instead the stars of our very own opulent production. We quickly chose stardom and a bottle of champagne as the useful accelerant.The occasion was extraordinary and demanded no less.


We studied our menus at length with the much needed assistance of Julie's still quite good high school French. This necessarily took quite some time and, after all, we were not in a hurry. It was then that I began eyeing a beautifully presented whole smoked salmon lying in state on a gilded baroque sideboard across the room. As soon as had I began to whisper of this delicacy to my companions, a waiter glided up with a substantial portion for us to sample. I had not yet read or heard about Cesar Ritz's famed table radar, but had just experienced it firsthand. The service continued with our needs being met almost before we recognized them ourselves, and all this was done from a respectful distance without intrusion.


Eventually we made our selections. With Julie's help and some charade-like communication with the waiter, I discovered a hot appetizer described as a whole truffle baked and sauced in a puff pastry. My experience of truffles at this point was confined to tiny specs in pates.The specter of a whole truffle was mesmerizing. I loved their smoky, earthy flavor. The idea of a whole one all to myself prepared and served in this temple of opulence and excess was too much to bear. Unfortunately, so was the a la carte price of $50.00, a staggering sum indeed to a young lawyer in 1980. I agonized only briefly before resorting again to my tried and true justification of excess. When, would I ever have such an opportunity again? Wouldn't I forever regret any penurious cowardice?

Of course I would! And so the battle was won (or lost depending on one's perspective) and I placed my order.


The dish arrived plated on heated Limoges. I knew because I had already peeked at the bottom of my bread plate proving once again my lack of manners and proper upbringing. The golden square of pastry rose several inches from the plate and was topped with a circular dome hinting at the prize within. When I broke the very crisp and layered croissant- like crust with my knife and fork, a small cloud of pungent steam rose as I waited for the dish to cool. Despite my best efforts to savor it slowly, the deliciously sauced and spongy golf ball sized black truffle, along with every crumb of the pastry seemed gone in no time at all.


I do not remember the other courses, or what everyone else had during our long and very French dinner. I do, however, remember one very special glittering evening of splendor and luxury with my lovely wife and two dear friends, all of whom kindly indulged me in my quest for memorable excess. We had an exceptional evening and I have Proustian memories of it even now, and without ever again biting into another whole truffle.

vent & lament

Can I just vent a sec?

Am I the only one whose purse reeks of tuna fish & peanut butter & jelly sammies? Am I the only one with goldfish cracker crumbs in every crevice of my pocketbook? Is there a large, unsightly wet spot on your bag from lugging around cold drinks? If you answered yes to any of these, it must mean that you, too, went to the movies recently and refused to pay those astronomical prices (it could also just mean you're a mother of several small children like I am!).

We were lucky enough to go at 1 p.m. (Hubby went with us since he was, A-HEM, unable to go to work today), so we got cheap early-bird tickets ($4 each). But drinks, popcorn, hot dogs, etc. are so ridiculously overpriced I can't stand it. So I plan ahead. We did splurge on some popcorn because that is the highlight of any trip to the movies, at least as far as the girls are concerned. But the rest? I packed it up in my purse. Sandwiches, Diet Coke for Hubby, water for me, Capri Sun Roarin' Waters for the girls. Some goldfish and napkins. My purse weighed a ton and I was afraid people would think my armpits smelled of tuna, not my purse.

Do you pack your own snacks when you go to the movies? We don't go very often, but I still can't justify it. I'm sure there will come a day when my children are quite embarrassed by this sort of thing, but until then, I'm going to have a purse that reeks of tuna fish sandwiches.

My 33rd Birthday---My First From-Scratch Cake

Getting all set up with ingredients, tools, etc.

Working on the batter, adding the vanilla extract.

Fortunately I had a little helper named Abby.

Pulling them out of the oven. I think I overcooked them a tad. Could've been more moist.

Starting the chocolate frosting--damn, have forgotten how to flip/turn the pics.

Frosting the cake with homemade chocolate butter cream, yum yum!

Carefully inverting the second layer

Sadly I do not own a cake stand. Need to add this to my list. Plastic flowered tray instead.

Little helpers like to lick the frosting off the mixer attachments.

Izzy LOVED the cake. It was okay. I honestly felt like the boxed stuff is better. Of course this was just my first attempt, so who knows...I think I screwed up a few things, like using salted butter instead of unsalted, and failing to sift the dry ingredients beforehand. Live and learn, I guess. But it still felt really good to prove to myself that I CAN actually make a REAL cake that doesn't come out of a Betty Crocker box. That's a decent accomplishment for my 33rd year.
Right??

Food

Food is an obsession of mine. I love it. It's a big problem, especially given my thyroid issues lately.

And we have a wedding to attend next month in DC. Have no idea what I'll wear or even what still fits me at this point. Nevermind that I can't exercise much for the moment. So I'm trying (really hard this time) to curb my bad eating habits, to stop eating when I'm full, eat fewer carbs, and eat more organic things. I've basically kicked my Diet Coke habit and am so happy. This doesn't mean I've totally obliterated caffeine; I sometimes have some iced tea or a few sips of coffee, but no more carbonated beverages.

For breakfast I'm trying to do cottage cheese with fruit or a few scrambled eggs with whole wheat toast. Sometimes oatmeal with fruit (oatmeal is my fave, but more carbs than I should have). The cold cereal has to go, as much as I love it. I also got some Kashi waffles and may spread a tablespoon of peanut butter on one. My biggest problem is protein, methinks. I don't feel full for very long. So I need to focus on nuts, grains, fiber(as in fruit), dairy (yogurt, milk, cheese)--things that will stick to my ribs.

For lunch I do a lot of soup, turkey roll-ups, or sometimes Smart Ones frozen things to break up the routine a bit. And dinner is whatever I'm cooking. My other big problem is eating late at night due to a dessert addiction. We regularly resort to Skinny Cow ice cream cones around 8 p.m. or so after we get the kids to bed. A little sweet treat/reward. While those cones are touted as "healthy," "low-cal," etc., it doesn't change the fact that it's more food I don't really need to put in my mouth to begin with, especially that late at night.

Best-laid plans. I always start out great, but if I deny myself too much, I binge. It's not pretty. But I am also trying to stick with a real food diary this time--documenting every single morsel I put in my mouth. Because when you look at everything you've eaten in a given day/week, it can shock you.

Would love to hear any comments/tips/suggestions/thoughts/miracles you might have to share!