Jenmenke

Road Warrior

Food

The Kids Cook Monday Four. Morgan Take Two!

Chanterelle Morel Mushroom with Pasta and Cream Sauce

No, we couldn’t find Morgan’s beloved Chanterelle mushrooms so she had to settle for *sigh* locally harvested and dried morel mushrooms that I’ve been saving for a special occasion.

It was a difficult sacrifice for me.

I’m all for Kid’s Cook, but I’m not necessarily “all for” depleting my morel stash.

But I had to try to jolly the surly, soon-to-be-16-year-old-girl somehow. And my benevolent offer of morels seemed to bring her out of her funk.

You see, I made this amazing and totally spontaneous Chanterelle mushroom and pasta dish for our second to the last Meatless Monday of 2010. Ever since then Morgan has been swooning about a repeat. And frankly, I’m not sure I could repeat it, even if I had all the ingredients. That’s the curse of a throw-and-go cook like me.

I’ve long given up trying to compete with any true food blogger. Those people freak me out. I imagine them with notepads and dirty pans writing every little thing down, dates, results, etc. Why don’t we ever read about their cats walking across the top of their rising bread loaves? (sorry Jeanette!) And where are their kids?

Because mine are constantly yelling at me from some distant room, requiring me to stop what I’m doing and wander around the house yelling, “What?!” What??!!” “MORGAN? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU YELLING MY NAME FOR??!!!”

…Only to walk back into the kitchen and completely forget that I was broiling the top of a potato dish. A few minutes later, I might lift my nose in the air like a dog and wonder, “what is that delicious smell?” Only to remember another minute or two later that there is something in the oven that is now blackened and smoking.

That, by the way, is also the curse of my new oven that requires the door shut to broil. That is a serious issue for me — since I can’t remember anything these days. That partially open door was always a good cue for me and now, alas, I have that cue no more…

So the idea of quickly and randomly throwing ingredients together for a last minute meal being repeated on memory alone is, sadly, impossible.

Otherwise I would have posted such a brilliant success here with the recipe.

Morgan doesn’t understand that about me, so it was with utter confidence that she asked me to write down the recipe for her so she could duplicate her new favorite meal, but with morels instead of chanterelles.

I tried.

She thinks she failed.

But I’m pretty sure it was the recipe.

Either that or the chorizo.

You know me, I’m always wanting to throw some tasty, fatty meat in there at the end. So I convinced her to dice up some chorizo to throw in with the mushrooms.

We loved it. She didn’t.

It started out so pretty, with golden sauteed shallots

I say she added too much pecorino and that’s why it got so rich and thick. (note: WE thought it was delicious.)

She says my chorizo ruined it for her.

Regardless if it was the recipe, the chorizo or the cheese, she handled the many stages and steps like a pro, boiling the noodles while the sauce bubbled away and the artichokes in the pressure cooker did their thing.

The sauce was finished a bit early, which thickened it more than she would have liked. (Again, note: WE thought it was delicious)

And when the artichokes were ready for the table, they made it there as mere shadows of their former selves, since the three others in the family simply can’t control themselves around artichokes… Lucky I got this picture before the mayhem descended with arms reaching in and butter dripping all over.

And here it is in all its glory:

She thought it was lame.
WE thought it was delicious.
She’s too critical of herself.
She obviously doesn’t take after me.
The poor thing.

The Kids Cook Monday Three. Charlie Take One.

I want a MANWICH.

…Seems to be the sub-theme for the evening’s menu. Charlie, on his first solo Kids Cook flight, chose STEAK, POTATOES and KALE (I may have wielded some influence in this category).

It sounded just fine to me.

So we rummaged around in the freezer and found a nice looking ribeye and a less-nice-looking top round. I took the sword and offered to eat the round steak. I actually like round steak, though this particular specimen didn’t show promise.

It was yet another Monday with no school. So, he had plenty of time to ask me questions. All day, in fact.

He seemed to be looking for direction as to the actual recipes for his meal and I happily steered him in the direction of things we had on hand. (Hence the kale). For the potatoes, he made my friend Bev’s “Special Potatoes” with my modifications. That is to say, half and half instead of cream, and half the butter, which is replaced with plain yogurt. (They are still special.)

Early on in the day he declared “I want a sauce.”

No elaboration. Just “I want a sauce.”

It was up to me to decipher what kind of sauce and for what. It was clear he wanted to make a sauce for the steak, but not clear what kind. Bernaise? Hollandaise? Butter? What?

“Just a sauce.”

So I suggested a balsamic reduction. Which was fine with him.

I knew I’d have to do more directing and answering of questions. No, not because he’s a boy and younger, but because he is Charlie. It’s part of the M.O. since he could talk. He asks questions and I answer them. Until I can’t take it anymore, snap, and start screaming at him to stop. I like to think I’m developing his character. You know — getting him ready for the real world.

But I know that’s not true. I’m just basically unpredictable and mean. And Charlie being Charlie loves me anyway.

As Martha used to say (or does she still say it?): It’s a Good Thing.

We found out late in the game that Dave was not going to be home, so we didn’t have to use that round steak after all. But it was just as well, because I think it had already been in the freezer for well over a year. Seriously, who would ever want to eat that?

(Lola wanted to eat it. So we gave it to her.)

You might be wondering where the Sous Chef was in all this. Yes, I was wondering, too. She has the uncanny ability to make herself scarce at times like these. So I whispered some ideas to Charlie — who would never make his sister do something she didn’t want to do — and he put her to work on bread sticks. I had some wheat dough in the fridge just waiting for her.

Meanwhile Charlie cooked up the kale with dried cranberries

Warmed up the balsamic reduction…

Broiled the steak (a new venture with the new oven). Worked great, but honestly, how do you clean those broiler pans? It’s impossible!

Served what was left of the potatoes… They love these potatoes and basically started eating them out of the crock pot from 3pm on. There were barely any left for me! (see recipe below)

I do have a question, though, if anyone can help me: when exactly is it that boys start to be aware of clashing colors and dress accordingly?

Of course, Charlie thought this was the best meal he had had in weeks. Simply the best! And how about that balsamic reduction? Really good, isn’t it? Isn’t it?!

Why, he’s a chip off the old block! I’m so proud of him! Fishing for compliments like that… Just like his Mom. Brings a tear to my eye.

(The bread sticks were tasty, too)

Bev’s Special Potatoes

serves 10
  • 2 bags of frozen hashbrowns (like Ore-Ida)
  • 2 pints of heavy cream
  • 1 stick of butter cut into pats and layered into potatoes
  • 1 tablespoon Lawry’s Garlic Salt

Put in crock pot on high for the first hour and stir. Continue to cook on low for several hours until crusty on top and cooked. You can use a baking dish and bake at 350 for an hour, but they aren’t as dreamy.

Jennie’s Special Potatoes

  • 2 bags frozen hashbrowns
  • 2 cups 1/2 and 1/2
  • 1/2 stick butter
  • 1 cup plain yogurt
  • 1 T Lawry’s seasoned salt (I honestly just saw now, as I type this, that it is supposed to be Lawry’s Garlic salt. I had no idea…)

Same directions as above, but if things start to seem dry (they should be sort of saucy), add some milk, half and half or yogurt until you get the right consistency.

The Kids Cook Monday Two. Morgan Take One.

It’s official.

I’m a genius.

I was going to say, ‘We had our first real Kids Cook Monday’, but then my mind quickly ran back over all my predictions in the first two entries about it and I realized what I’ve always known:

I’m a genius.

I was right about everything, as usual.

When I predicted Morgan would actually like Kids Cook? I was right. When I predicted the kids would agree on nothing? I was right. When I predicted Morgan would run straight to her dream mom, The Pioneer Woman for a recipe? I was right. (correction: she claims PW is not her dream mom, PW is her dream life. good grief, it’s worse than I thought.)

Last Monday, the kids didn’t have school. I pretty much give up trying to get any “work-work” done when they are home. It is not their faults. Well, it is mostly not their faults. It’s just too chaotic and distracting for me to work. So I do things that I have been meaning to do for a while, but don’t require fits of concentration.

Like put the remaining basement level Christmas decorations away. And research the distance of the parallel parking spot that Morgan will have to wedge the Suburban into for her driver’s test in a couple weeks.

Oh, why do I lie?

She’s taking the test in Dave’s Cherokee.

But isn’t it gleefully funny to imagine her parallel parking the Suburban? (By the way, the parallel parking size is somewhere around 8 feet wide by 24 feet long, if you must know.)

Then I went outside and dug those dimensions into a snowbank and marked the corners with soccer field flags.

I seriously did that. Somewhere into the second half hour, I realized there really is something terribly wrong with me and my priorities. Shouldn’t she be the one to be doing this?

And she still hasn’t used it. But no one’s going to point the finger at me when she doesn’t pass! Nevermind the fact that I never let her drive anywhere because I’m always so late, right?

Anyway, our Monday was passing by fairly uneventfully and I was eager to give the kids some direction other than Youtube and Netflix, so I said (rather, I yelled) into the next room “YOU’RE COOKING TONIGHT.”

I didn’t hear a peep.

Low and behold a link popped up in my email from Morgan directing me to — wonder of wonders — the cream and cheese wizard of the lower 50, http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2011/01/quesadillas-de-camarones/

Who was I to complain.

Well of course I complained, but not about the recipe. I was complaining because she actually — get this — expected me to drive to the grocery store! Can you imagine? …did she think my hard and fast no-going-to-the-store-for-items-we-are-missing rule would fly out the window with Kids Cook Mondays?

But she can be real persistent and whiny .

(So I called Dave and made him go to the grocery store on his way home.)

Obviously and as usual, Charlie had no idea what was going on around him. He was busy building a robot that would sense movement and simultaneously shoot a ball at you while saying, “Sorry.” When he got wind of the recipe Morgan wanted to cook, he immediately started complaining. There is no solution to this. I simply point it out to make everyone with bickering kids feel better.

I quickly laid the Kids Cook ground rules that I had previously given no thought to before today: One kid is the boss, picks the recipe and does most of the work. The other one is their helper/grunt/line cook. I will, no doubt, come to regret these rules that will be thrown in my face as the weeks fly by, but it is what it is. My destiny has been set.

Morgan, being the quicker of the two, quickly grasped the concept and put Charlie to work at the sink peeling the legs off the frozen shrimp.

I thought he was going to faint.

It was about that time that I remembered I was supposed to be at my Book Club in the city in about an hour. Again, yes, this seriously happened. I do this type of thing all the time. I completely space out the places I am supposed to be. And really, I couldn’t even begin to make this stuff up.

BUMMER! I would miss the circus.

I handed the camera over to Dave and kids and took my leave:

Morgan wasn’t very happy about the green enchilada sauce. (I forgot to tell Dave to get red.) I was just happy I had any at all! (And that he didn’t cave in to the princess and go buy the red stuff.)

I’m pretty sure the line cook set the table…

And there they are, in all their glory. (I did not take these pictures, or they would surely look more delectable.) I did, however, have the left overs the next day and I gotta say: they were amazing!  Good job Morgan!

And I’ve got a great idea for next year’s resolution: Kids Blog Mondays. If I can get them doing it all? That would be so awesome. (Say that last line with the voice of Kevin from The Office and it goes from being lame to being funny. I promise.)

The Kids Cook Monday One

Don’t get too excited.

It wasn’t a barn burner.

It was a Monday where Dave was gone, I had a board meeting and was freaking out about what to do for dinner… when I suddenly realized it was Monday!

And I said, “Hey, it’s Monday!”

And they said nothing, because they tend to ignore me.

And I said “Hey! … HEY! It’s Kids Cook MONDAY!”

At which point, as earlier predicted, all Hell broke loose.

Charlie said, “I’m making EGGS!”

And Morgan said, I want a BURGER!”

And I said, what about that TURKEY and I made. Make some rice and gravy and let’s have THAT.”

And they ignored me.

And Charlie cooked eggs

And Morgan cooked a frozen Kirkland burger (her favorite kind)

And I had turkey and gravy on rice….After instructing Morgan on the fine art of gravy making

…And directing Charlie on the use of the new rice cooker.

So at least they learned something.

And I still got the dinner I wanted

…and a holy mother of a mess in the kitchen.

We had yet to establish “the rules” for the resolution and it was, clearly, a free for all. Next week after setting some boundaries, maybe we’ll even consider adding vegetables to our repertoire.

The Kids Cook Mondays!

OK, so at the risk of becoming a cliché, I take on another Monday Campaign as an entire-family “New Year’s Resolution.” However, this year, I resolve to not be psychotic in my resolve.

Does that make sense?

I loved Meatless Mondays. And — for the most part — I’d say it was a success. If you know me well in the real world, it is likely that you are shaking your head right now and calling me a liar. If you are over the age of 45, you probably said it out loud to your computer.

But anyway, no, I am not a liar. I did love them, even though at times I complained, at times I failed and –in general — they were a mental pain. Why, then, do I say I loved them?

I go back to my very first Meatless Monday post. Those reasons still hold true:

Actually, I just re-read that entry and there are no compelling reasons listed. I know I wrote them somewhere, but who knows where. [Aside: oh my gosh. my eyes are just going down the tubes. I have taken my reading glasses on and off and on and off about three times in the last 5 minutes. It’s the beginning of the end, I tell you.]

If I remember correctly, my compelling reasons were something like:

  • reduce our carbon footprint.
  • discover new foods to work into our rotation
  • feel smugly superior to those who don’t participate in Meatless Mondays

So, with those goals in mind, our personal Meatless Monday campaign was a huge success.

As I’ve mentioned in a few of my recent writings, I have experienced a level of busyness the past few months unequaled to any other time in my life. [hence the infrequent updates here and the swirling motes of cat and chinchilla hair in the corners of my kitchen] For that reason, I was not able to devote any real thought to my 3rd annual Menke Family New Year’s Resolution. I just kept thinking that it would be revealed to me at the right time.

That is called faith, by the way. –And I was not disappointed.

On January 6th, Joanna (Joey) of the official ‘The Monday Campaigns‘ wrote me an email about a recipe for the Meatless Monday website. In our banter, she mentioned her new project, The Kids Cook Mondays. And while it initially seemed more suited for younger children, it got me thinking…

Yes… It would be perfect!

Photo opportunities, Embarrassing moments, and the opportunity to lord over my kids and bark out commands.

Yes, it would be perfect.

It would be lying to say I didn’t have selfish reasons for considering this new direction, however. And no, it isn’t because I’m lazy. I have no delusions that The Kids Cook will lighten my load. No doubt Morgan will be pouring over Bon Appetit recipes that require multiple trips to specialty stores deep in the hood. Charlie will require endless, normally rhetoric, questions answered. Also no doubt, ‘The Kids’ will agree on nothing, creating chaos and mayhem galore.

Don’t worry, I’m used to that.

But can you image the potential material? Maybe I should close the blog now and start the book.

No, no, I can’t write my book until I’m 80 and everyone else is dead. Hopefully except my kids and hopefully they won’t care at that point.

As usual, the reception to my message was mixed:

Charlie, who doesn’t even know what we are talking about half the time, was enthusiastic beyond words. To say he fist pumped and yelled “YES! Yes! Can we? Really? Can we?” would be the closest approximation.

Morgan, at the table applying eyeliner or something, looked up at me with half-lidded interest said, “Mom. No.”

And I knew I was golden.

Oh, I forgot about Dave. Actually I don’t think we’ve even told him about it yet. And if we did, he wouldn’t remember anyway.

So, with apologies to the movement, I will need to modify our participation. Realistically this year (I’m learning…), I know we won’t be able to do it every week. We will try, but I’m not going to be mental about it like I was with Meatless Mondays.

Also, given the teenage status of my kids, I’m not going to dictate the ingredients and be totally healthy-centric. In general, I cook very healthy. But to truly get Morgan on board, I will have to lift my ban on heavy cream in the kitchen. That just goes without saying. But true to the movement’s purpose of: “dedicating the first day of every week to health. Every Monday, individuals and organizations join together to commit to healthy behaviors that help end chronic preventable diseases.”… I promise to uphold my part of the pact and to do my very best.

Both my kids love to cook already. I just tend not to let them do it. The challenge, you see — for me — will be to really let them do it.

I’m a kitchen control freak.

But I vow I will let them cook and go down in a blaze of glory doing it.

I just hope that last line isn’t literal.

Holiday Baking! (Finally)

So the delay here isn’t the fact that I hadn’t started my holiday baking. The delay is that I can’t seem to find time to write about about it. Indeed.

Indeed?

Indeed.

No excuses. Just the facts.

We are currently snowed in. Blizzard in Minnesota. I finished the panda hat for Morgan.

The panda hat?

Yes, the panda hat.

More on that another time.

I’ve researched vintage Polly Pocket castles for my friend Chris.

Polly Pocket castles?

Yes, Polly Pocket castles.

So here I am, ready to write.

What about, though? That is the question. ALL my holiday baking? Or focus on just one thing? Chocolate Balls, Popcorn balls AND gingerbread house? That seems rather sweepingly ambitious. Especially considering I haven’t eaten lunch yet… Maybe I should have a popcorn ball to tide me over…

Purple, yellow, red, green or yellow?

Yellow.

Then, my fingers were sticky, so I went into the kitchen to wash them. Then I saw the ciabatta dough that I forgot about that had way over-risen. So I dealt with that. Then Charlie and his friend came into the kitchen looking for lunch. So I dealt with that. Then I figured I should eat too, and I had my delicious leftovers.

And now I’m back.

And I wonder why I never get anything posted.

So. Where to start?

I’ll start with my all time favorite Christmas Cookie:

CHOCOLATE BALLS!


Seriously easy. I submitted the recipe to the Minneapolis Star Tribune for their 2010 cookie contest.

I didn’t win.

Very, very disappointed. Because, you know, I’m used to success.

Except for that damn Fiesta Movement contest.

Nevermind.

Here is the recipe:

Preheat oven to 325. Mix together:

  • 1 box of graham cracker crumbs (or 48 squares crushed to make 3 cups)
  • 1-11.5 oz package of chocolate chips
  • 2-14 oz cans of sweetened condensed milk*

(This mixture all but turns to cement. So, being the lazy lucy that I am, I use the KitchenAid on the lowest speed.)

Pour into a greased 9×13 pan and bake for 25 minutes at 325 degrees. Watch from 20 minutes on so it doesn’t get too crusty on top. Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly, about 10 minutes. Stir mixture up in pan completely. Either butter your hands (that works best for me) or coat hands in powdered sugar (original recipe’s directions). Roll into small balls with your hands and then roll in the powdered sugar to coat. Allow to cool completely and store sealed tightly. Makes 3-5 dozen, depending entirely on the size you make the balls.

These are best eaten in the first week, though I hide my stash and enjoy them through Christmas. They just get a little hard, but I still savor every one.

*You can use light sweetened condensed milk if you prefer. But they get harder even faster.

POPCORN BALLS!

I already wrote about these here. Thank goodness I did a search on my blog just to make sure I hadn’t written about them before. And I had! It was only last year, but I had already forgotten.  See? I’ve already lightened my load today!

GINGERBREAD HOUSE!

Here are detailed directions to making my pretzel gingerbread house:

Don’t do it.

I’m Serious. Only serious masochists make things like gingerbread houses. Oh, we’ll tell you it’s “so fun!” And, a “wonderful thing to do with your kids.” But that is just a bunch of hooey. If you do embark on this as a family project, don’t expect it to look anything like the beauty shown here. I did this all by myself, baby. (The kids were hiding in the basement I think.) I’ve been making these for, let’s see… 14 years? 13? –Somewhere around the time I was enchanted enough by my daughter to think making a gingerbread house together would be fun.

And you can do that. And of course I did. But I did a lot of yelling, “NO!” and “BE CAREFUL!” and, “Don’t you think THIS might look better?” I think the first couple years I eventually resorted to doing most of it while she napped and let her put the finishing touches on it when she woke up. I’ve blocked out entirely the years Charlie was a toddler…

In later years, I learned to stop being the control freak that I am. (Mostly.) And I let the kids do it all. But let me tell you the problem with that approach:

Kid’s get bored. And then they don’t want to finish. And then you, and all your control-freakishness, are left to work with what can only be called a little gingerbread house of horrors.

I’m exaggerating, of course. It isn’t all that bad. But I’d still tell you to skip it if you have a brain in your head.

And, for all of you who don’t heed that warning and want to while away about five or six hours creating this keepsake memory, I’ve got some tips for you:

  • This is far and away the BEST dough. It’s soft and easy to roll, gets hard in the oven before it burns, and tastes pretty good, too.
  • Google free gingerbread house plans. I used “the elf house” for this one, sans the chimney, which I made out of candy.
  • Invest in Silpat mats. I use them for absolutely everything. The cheapies from Target work just fine.
  • After years and years of cutting out the windows, I have come to this conclusion: I prefer them created with frosting. Black holes in the sides of the house are just plain ugly. One year we made “stained glass” out of melted hard candy. That was pretty, but also a pain. Frosting windows look better and are easier.
  • Use squeeze bottles for icing. It’s hard to fill them (use a small funnel), but SO much easier to use for people not good with pastry bags.
  • And, drumroll please… Decorate the house BEFORE assembly. Unbelievably I never, EVER did this until this year. I simply cannot believe how much easier it was. Truly mind-boggling.
  • Royal icing is a royal pain in the butt. It takes practice to get it right, but know this: make it too dry and it won’t stick and you’ll strain a tendon trying to squeeze it out. There is nothing you can do except take it out of the container, stir in more water and try again. Make it too runny and you’ve got a mess. All you can do is squeeze it all out, add more powdered sugar and try again. When it’s the right consistency, it is amazingly easy. Here is a good recipe for royal icing. The powdered egg whites (meringue powder) is pretty easy to find these days.
  • If you are doing it yourself, have a plan and a picture. Google “gingerbread houses” and look at the pictures.
  • If you are doing it with your kids, forget the plan. Have a glass of wine instead.

This year I used pretzels exclusively. It was tediously and strangely fun. Here is the roof. It took about two hours.

And yes, I was drinking wine.

I used jelly bellies cut in half for the cobblestones.

I used — oh what are they called — burnt peanuts? For some reason I want to call them boston baked beans. Was there a candy like that? They are brick-red pokey round candy-coated peanuts. I cut them in half and made a chimney going up the back of the house.

I’m a terrible frosting decorator. I don’t take my own advice (above) and try to use frosting that is either too runny or too dry. I do it every year. Can’t seem to learn. I used powdered sugar for dusted snow. And then I was done.

And now I’m done. Approximately four hours have passed since I sat down to write this.

Fatty needs another popcorn ball.