Worse Than A Bad Boy? A Bad Boy Haircut.

Fred happened upon xtranormal, a site that lets you put your own dialogue to their computer animated graphics. He found it two days ago and is already working on his third video. He's either prolific or insane. I'm not sure which.

He used this gizmo for his latest Art Dada post about bad haircuts on boys. Now, we don't always agree on how to raise Walt. I think he should eat vegetables every day and Fred has no problem serving him discount baloney sandwiched between two Oreos. But when it comes to our son's hair, we are in 100% agreement.

Read Fred's very funny post about the subject. And the reference to his childhood haircut is very true. I've seen the pictures.

NOTE: I like long hair on men. I even think it looks good on some boys. Just not my boy.

Stacked

I feel the same way about snow as I do about Hot Lifeguard Gus. We both worked at White Water Park during the summer of '84. From a distance, he was a sincerely gorgeous. Chiseled jaw. Long, lean body. Cocoa colored hair that curled around his neck in a way that was difficult not to caress. (Creepy but true.) But up close? He had chaw on his teeth. Used horrific grammar. And talked mostly about Jesus coming to kill them gays. In other words, beautiful from afar, but up close, not-so-great. Just like snow.

Yes, it's a delight when kissing the spindly limbs of trees. Stunning when it first blankets a large field, so pure and untouched. But once it gets in my boots, it might as well be marching Harvey Fierstein to the gates of hell.

So when I woke up Sunday morning and saw a bunch of the white stuff outside my window, this is what I made.


A stack of whole wheat blueberry pancakes and some crispy bacon. Because pancakes make me sleepy. Even though I was minding a toddler that day, I figured I could afford to be drowsy because we weren't really going anywhere. A better parent would have taken her 16-month-old to Prospect Park for some snowy fun. A parent like myself would rather read "Twilight" while her son sticks forks in sockets.

I got the pancake recipe from my Gourmet cookbook. It sounded promising, though it called for separating eggs and doing the whole "frothing up the whites" dance. There was no way I'm separating an egg for Sunday breakfast. I'm sure they would have yielded a floaty, light cake, but, um...no.

They tasted a tad too whole-wheat-y. I think I should've thrown some white all-purpose flour in the mix. Or maybe my refusal to froth egg whites is to blame. Who knows? But they were still good. Of course they were good. It's cake! Covered in syrup! And the whole wheatness was nice for our colons. And the bursting blueberries with each bite was delightful. So yeah. Unlike Hot Lifeguard Gus, they're definitely something that can get close to my mouth anytime.

Whole Wheat Blueberry Pancakes
adapted from The Gourmet Cookbook by Ruth Reichl
(Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, September 22, 2006)

1/4 cup cornmeal
2 cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups milk
3 tablespoons butter, melted
3 large eggs, separated
6 tablespoons (about) butter
2 cups (about) fresh blueberries, or frozen, unsweetened, thawed, drained
Maple syrup

Preheat oven to 200°F. Mix cornmeal, flour, baking powder, baking soda and 1 teaspoon salt in large bowl. Whisk 2 cups buttermilk, 3 tablespoons melted butter, and egg yolks in another bowl. Add to dry ingredients and stir until blended. Beat egg whites in another medium bowl until stiff but not dry. Fold whites into batter in 2 additions.

Melt 2 tablespoons butter in heavy large skillet over medium heat. Drop batter by 1/4 cupfuls into skillet. Sprinkle each pancake with 2 tablespoons blueberries. Cook pancakes until bottoms are golden brown and bubbles form on top, about 2 minutes. Turn pancakes over. Cook until bottoms are golden brown, about 2 minutes. Transfer pancakes to large baking sheet. Place pancakes in oven to keep warm. Repeat with remaining batter and blueberries, adding more butter to skillet as necessary.

Serve hot with maple syrup.

Chili Chill Chill

Hey winter! Quit being such an asshole.

Honestly. Why the bitter, biting pellets of snow? The foot-numbing temps? The insistence on having me wear tights under my pants? I look like Julia Sweeney playing "Pat." Enough. The only good thing to come out of you is that your snow covers up the dog droppings of inconsiderate, non-curbing slobs. And my chilled ruby cheeks look kinda cute before they give way to chapping and eczema. And oh! The food you inspire. That's good. Like this Smokey Slow Cooker chili pictured above.

Fred found it in the back of this month's Cooking Light recipe. I know! I know! I had it out with this magazine too. I gave in because it sounded like a new take on chili to me, with tomatillos and porky goodness. I had to substitute a few ingredients, like ground beef for ground pork, but it turned out pretty great. And I loved the cute condiments.

It's easy being green with lime, green onions and cilantro.

It was a little spicier than planned, and I think that messed with the smokiness. Since I didn't have the "Mexican tomato sauce" listed in the recipe, I subbed some salsa loaded with jalapenos. Nice for clearing sinuses, not-so-nice for canker sores. But with lots of queso fresco and tart lime juice, it went down easy. Tangy and rich, with hearty hunks of meat and glossy vegetables to spoon up. I baked corn muffins with leftover bacon grease. A great accessory for swiping the last remnants of tomato bits and ground beef from the bottom of the bowl.


In the end, though, it was chili. And all chili tends to taste alike to me. Some may be a little milder or sweeter, others tangy and hot. But it's hard to be distinctive when you have the powerful spices of cumin, paprika, cayenne and the like. It's not a bad thing, I love these flavors. Their bright heat helps warm the soul, making winter a tad less jerky. At least until I have to go outside again.

You can find the recipe here.

Walt & His Favorite Food

About 2 weeks ago I just about died from Walt's cuteness. It astounds me daily, but this particular day the cuteness was intense. My heart stopped beating for 3.2 seconds, I saw a bright light and my Grandma Maryellen told me to go back. Because that day for the first time, he walked over to the refrigerator, put both hands on it and looked up at me and said, "O-pah?"

Pretty cute, but there's more. I opened the fridge and he stood there looking around, going, "Aaaaaaahhm...."

Still cute, but there's more.

He finally pulled out one of his yogurts, closed the fridge door and toddled over to his highchair with it. He put it up on the highchair tray and looked back at me with the biggest, most satisfied smile I've ever seen in his 16 months. That's when I saw Grandma. And I think Sammy Davis Jr., but I digress.

I quickly told Fred about our son's (brilliant!)(advanced!) yogurt-fetching ability. Soon he witnessed our son's latest development. Because when Walt was done with the yogurt, he wanted the fridge door opened again. Five minutes after that, "O-pah?" And another "O-pah?" minutes afterwards. Before 10 minutes passed, "O-pah?" was reduced to a grunt. If it wasn't answered immediately with an opened refrigerator door, we got tears.

In under an hour, the cutest thing ever became a major annoyance and the cause of tantrums for both mother and son. I'd include Fred in this cryfest but somewhere between the tears and me whining, "Waaaalllterrrr...", he packed up his things and moved to Pensacola.

I quickly learned that if you ever, ever, EVER let your kid know you think something he does is cute, you are inviting the opportunity to see him do it again precisely eight million, nine hundred and fifty-four thousand, three hundred and eleven times. Lesson. Learned.

Meanwhile, here's a video of Walt eating yogurt. Last week he started insisting on feeding himself. And guess what? It's pretty darn cute. At least until the washcloth comes out.

It's Not Christmas Until Someone Is Offended

When Fred first brought up the concept for this card, I thought, "Huh. Funny. OK, let's do it." When we actually executed it, I got a little scared about offending some people. But now that they've been sent out and the compliments from friends keep pouring in, I'm very proud.

Check it out over at Fred's blog. While you're there, read around. The guy is pretty hilarious.

A Turkeyrific 2009

Happy New Year! Did you have a good time welcoming in 2009? We celebrated the last evening of 2008 by watching "Tropic Thunder" and going to bed at 11PM. I think we also ordered Chinese. It's the parents-of-a-toddler version of a Rave.

New Years Day was a little more exciting. It revolved around a free turkey. And all feel a little flip in our tummies over that, do we not? These very nice people sent me a beautiful 12-pounder just before the holidays.

We were going to serve it to Kim and her family, but as I mentioned before, getting a family of four from Harlem to Brooklyn requires 2 camels, 6 mules, a Sherpa and a time machine. Then we were going to have a Christmas party, but our schedules wouldn't allow it. Mainly because we had to work our stupid shifts at the stupid Food Coop so we can be stupid members and I can get stupid organic produce at stupid affordable prices. Yeah, I was happy about that. Stupid.

Instead we invited everyone on our collective email lists to our home for New Years Day. About a fifth of the invitees showed up, which was plenty. And the turkey turned out plump and juicy and great. Here it is, hacked up by yours truly.


The thing with Jennie-O turkey is that you don't defrost it. It goes straight from the freezer to the oven. It's in a big plastic bag so the juices stay on the bird. No basting! The downside is that I didn't get to season it myself, though the seasonings on it were tasty. And there are a lot of ingredients listed on the package that make me go hmmmm....is maltodextrin a good thing? Maybe not. But I eat Munchos, so I can't really be all ingredient-indignant.

The food had a vaguely Southern Brunch theme. I say vaguely because if I wanted to go whole-hog Southern, I'd have a ham and since it's New Year's Day, collards and black-eyed peas. The turkey trumped the ham, the collards would take too long and stink up the apartment, and I had a feeling few would eat black-eyed peas. So I made Lisa's incredible buttermilk biscuits, homemade mac and cheese, and a large green salad with roasted pecans, thinly sliced pears and shaved Parmesan, dressed with a balsamic vinaigrette. Desert was a peach crisp that was so easy and a huge crowd pleaser. Even skinny Kate went back for seconds.

We had all of the makings of a great afternoon party-babies, kids, old friends, new neighbors and lots of food. Here are a few pictures, and I mean a few, since I was too busy talking, eating and chasing Walt around to take as many as I wanted. The recipe for the peach crisp follows.

Hope everyone has a happy 2009!

Almost done.

The host with the most.

The spread after a few hours. I had just set out the crisp. It's in the metal roasting pan.

Charlotte



DJ Diaper picks out some tunes

Finito

Super Easy Peach Crisp
by Anne Stesney

For topping:

1 cup of rolled oats
1/4 cup of all-purpose flour
1/4 cup of light brown sugar
1/2 stick of cold butter, cut into pieces
1/4 teaspoon of salt
1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon
a few grates of fresh nutmeg


For filling

2 bags of frozen sliced peaches
1/3 cup of light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon of cardamom

Preheat your oven to 400F.

Put all the topping ingredients in a medium bowl and blend with your hands, until the butter is the size of peas.

In a separate bowl, toss all the filling ingredients. Put in shallow, buttered baking dish. Sprinkle the topping over the fruit mixture. Bake for 23-30 minutes, until brown and bubbly.