Why do we worship Jesus instead of Zeus?

There is an account on the platform formerly known as Twitter, which shares posts encouraging people to worship Greek gods. For real. At least, it seems to be in earnest. We all know that many social media platforms openly pay contributors who stir up lots of engagement, and an easy way to do this is to post crazy, provocative things.

At the same time, we also all know that people in the year 2024 will really, truly believe anything. People are uneducated in a way we haven’t seen in quite some time, and they are thirsty for meaning and direction in direct proportion to how little truth they are encountering. So it’s plausible that “The Hellenist” is making money on social media, but is also someone who thinks the Greek gods look cool and has decided: Sure, I’ll go with that.

Here is the recent post that got my attention. He wrote: “What if instead of forcing our children to become Christians, we let them choose which gods to worship. Does anyone honestly think they would choose Jesus?” And the image that accompanies it has photos of statues of Zeus, Aphrodite, and Apollo, pointing out that they are the Gods of (respectively), “the sky, lightning, thunder, law, and order,” “love, passion, pleasure, and beauty,” and “oracles, archery, healing, music, light, knowledge, and protection of the young.” And then it has a picture of Jesus hanging limply from a cross, and under him, it says, “God of loving your enemies, turning the other cheek, meekness, and poverty.”

It matters to God whether or not this fellow is in earnest, or if he’s just yakking about sacred things as a way of earning some cash; but it doesn’t really matter to me. The truth is, he’s asked an excellent question. Why WOULD we chose to worship Jesus, when he puts up such a poor show? It’s easy for comfortably established Catholics to say, “Oh, how ignorant this guy is,” and wave him away, but this is a missed opportunity, especially since he’s specifically talking about children, and what they would do if they had a choice.

Since I do have children, and since they do have a choice about whom to worship, but they also presumably have the advantage of knowing a thing or two about why we follow the man on the cross, I went to my kids, and I showed them the image. I asked, “What would you say, if someone asked you this?” Read the rest of my latest for The Catholic Weekly

A ‘very human life’ is the hallmark of Gwyneth Thompson-Briggs’ sacred art

Gwyneth Thompson-Briggs said her husband Andrew asked her after Mass, “Did you see the guy with Jesus hair?”

She did see him and had wanted to run after him, but she hesitated, and now she regrets it. He would have made a great model.

It was one leap she didn’t take, but only one.

Four years ago, she and her husband took a chance, and now she supports the family full-time with their home business, Gwyneth Thompson-Briggs Sacred Art. She mostly paints commissions and also teaches painting in person.

As a working mother and breadwinner, she’s something of an oddity in her community.

“In my parish, many of the mothers stay home full time, and the husband works. I try to explain to people we chose to have this small business of making sacred art because it allows us to live the liturgical year more fully,” she said.

As fulfilling as this life often is, it wasn’t easy to land there.

“To take that leap, God sort of had to put us in a situation where we lost a different job and we didn’t know what else to do. It didn’t seem prudent to try to raise a family on being an artist, but God knew we didn’t have the courage to do it without taking away the other options,” she said.

Thompson-Briggs said she looks to the medieval model of a family workshop, including apprentices who were part of the household.

“It seems like a very human life to live, that my children see their father throughout the day, and we’re always switching off with childcare and homeschooling and business duties. It’s a model I love, but it has been rare. It may be coming back, since everyone’s been working at home,” she said.

That “very human life” is a hallmark of Thompson-Briggs’ approach to art. Many of her live models, like the one with the Jesus hair who got away, are not professionals, but fellow parishioners at the church down the street from her studio.

“I will snag them and say, ‘Are you available to linger for an hour next Tuesday after Mass?’ and surprisingly, most people are amenable. I’ve gotten to have so many wonderful conversations. You meet so many people you think you know because you see the back of their head for months, and then you start to talk to them, and you’re always surprised,” she said.

The in-person conversation and time together give her visual insight an artist can’t attain by working from a photograph.

“When you’re working from a photo, you can get caught up in the detail. [But] when you work from life, you introduce the element of time. What’s the most natural way their head would tilt or that drape would fall?” she said.

As her model settles in and gets comfortable, her eyes also discern more breadth of color, more depth in shadow, and more atmosphere.

Her favorite models are good conversationalists, and she also acknowledges that talking helps keep them awake. Her studio heats up tremendously in the summer, and fans can only do so much when a model is draped in layers of wool.

Even their discomfort can be a revealing part of the artistic process, though.

“If you’re carrying something heavy in one arm, it’s going to affect the angle of the hips, or something,” she said.

But because she is making sacred art, she is not trying to paint a recognizable portrait, but to assist the viewer in prayer; and so to portray a beloved saint, or Mary, or the Sacred Heart, she often uses three or four models, combining select elements from their various faces and bodies, hands and hair.

“Using multiple models allows me to approach the idealization of the saint who is a distinct personality, who is separate from all the reference models. Sometimes, I will transform someone, make them older or younger; other times, it’s a rare person who has really beautiful hands,” she said…Read the rest of my latest artist profile for Our Sunday Visitor.

Image: Detail of St. Martin de Porres by Gwyneth Thompson-Briggs

Six sermons I could do without

In Giovanni Guareschi’s celebrated series of stories about a faithful but very human priest, the beleaguered Don Camillo once pitifully prays to Christ to help him blow his nose in a way that won’t be offensive to the congregation. He knows that he is under more public scrutiny than any other man in the village, and no matter what he does or how he does it, someone is going to complain.

I always keep this prayer in mind when a priest gets on my nerves, and I try very hard not to criticize him. Priests baptize our children. They bury our dead. They forgive our sins. They anoint and bless and guide us. And they give us Christ. The least we can do in return is give them some wiggle room.

And so, when we are at Mass, I try to expect really only the bare minimum from these men who are only human, but freighted with a superhuman responsibility. I expect my sacraments to be valid. I expect the liturgy to be licit. And I expect the sermons to be free of heresy.

That being said, I’m only human, too! I’ve been sitting in pews listening to sermons for almost five decades. I have boundless tolerance for boring sermons, weird sermons, silly sermons, scary sermons, tiresome sermons, corny sermons, uninspired sermons, irrelevant sermons, rambling sermons, goofy sermons, and sermons that make me wonder which will come first, the end of the homily or sweet, sweet death.

But I don’t complain! Most of the time. I do, however, have a short list of things I could do without, which I offer out of sheer, self-giving generosity, as your respectful daughter in the Faith.

And if my tone is a little bit lacking in patience, well . . . I’ll see you in the box next Saturday, Father. You know the drill.

Here’s what I’d love to never hear from the pulpit again:

1. The Catechetical Dump 

Alphonse Ratisbonne reportedly instantaneously received infused knowledge of the Faith when he picked up a miraculous medal, leading to his full conversion of heart. But, Father, we are no Alphonse Ratisbonne, and we need our catechesis in smaller bites. I know it’s tempting to take advantage of a captive audience, especially on Christmas or Easter or a funeral or wedding, when the church is full of folks whose butts rarely dust a pew; but please resist the urge to deliver a lifetime’s worth of exegesis during a single homily.  If you want all those unfamiliar faces to come back for more, be intriguing. Be eloquent and concise. Be selective. Please don’t try and convey the entire Faith in one fell swoop.

2. Yelling At the Choir

What’s worse than preaching to the choir? How about railing at the choir because the choir is so small? Dear Father, we already know it’s important to come. That’s why we’re here. If you’d like to see better numbers, encourage us to be courageous and invite our friends and family to come next week. Give us some encouragement; feed us some lines; challenge us to reach out. Remind us to evangelize. But please don’t take out your frustration on the folks who actually made it through the door.

3. Sit, Stand, Kneel, Bow AND BEYOND 

I don’t want to raise my hand if I have a Bible in my house. I don’t want to turn around in my seat and wave at my neighbor. I don’t want to be harangued into shouting “Amen” louder and louder and louder until you’re satisfied that we’re wide awake. I know that “audience participation” makes sermons more arresting and memorable, but we’re not actually an audience, and ad libbed hijinks are just not appropriate during the liturgy. We get to offer ourselves to the Father along with Jesus Christ crucified. We are here to participate in the divine mysteries. That’s the kind of participation we’re here for. You’re not gonna top that, so please don’t try by resorting to gimmicks.

4. Miracle debunkers.

Sweet fancy Moses, why? You just read us the story of the Red Sea parting, or the multiplication of the loaves and the fishes, and now it’s our spiritual father’s chance to help us understand what these miracles meant in the context of salvation history and what they tell us about God’s omnipotence and bounty.  But no. Instead, you’re going to snark that probably the wind was just blowing really hard that day, and those primitive, gullible Israelites mistook it for a supernatural event.

Or maybe you’ll finish relating how Jesus lovingly fed the multitudes with such abundant food that there were twelve baskets full of leftovers, and this is actually a story about … people sharing? Because folks in those days routinely walked around with twelve baskets’ worth of fish fragments in their pockets?

You fathers, if your children ask for a fish, do you give them a snake instead? If your congregation turns up looking for miracles, why give them something tedious and mundane, and insinuate this is the best God can do? It’s especially destructive for our kids to hear that the Bible is chock full of Nothing To See Here. God does miracles. Please don’t trim Him down to manageable size.

5. Political rallies 

There is certainly overlap between our life as citizens and our life as Catholics. We need to know what the Church teaches about matters up for public debate: Abortion, euthanasia, same sex marriage, immigration, and so on. But you can educate your flock on what the Church teaches, and encourage us to vote with our Faith foremost in our minds, without giving the impression that any political party is identical with our Faith. Please don’t imply that any politician will save us. That’s Jesus’ job, and it’s your job to help us remember that fact.

6. Baby shaming 

Want to make sure the pews will be empty in ten years? Try publicly humiliating parents for the high crime of bringing their children to visit the Lord. Maybe you’re just joking about that one unrepentant squawker, or maybe you’re genuinely irritated at an interruption; but either way, it can be searingly embarrassing for a parent to be singled out during the Mass. I know more than one mother who’s been driven in tears from the Church — not just from the building, but from the Faith itself, after a priest criticized her child from the pulpit. Being a priest isn’t easy; neither is being a parent.  Please never, ever be hostile to children. You need them as much as they need you.

And one more thing:

Thank you. Even if you don’t listen to me, thank you for being there, not only on Sundays, not only during normal working hours, but twenty-four hours a day, for your entire life. Thank you for your service to us and to God.

***

A version of this essay was first published at The Catholic Weekly in 2017.

***
Image: By BPL (originally posted to Flickr as Preaching) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Accused of threatening a witness, Voris turns to Alex Jones’ former porn lawyer

By Damien Fisher

Michael Voris’ media empire might be in trouble. 

Accused of hiding evidence, lying about on-air talent Christine Niles’ status as an attorney, and even threatening a key witness to keep him from giving a deposition, Voris saw his lawyers quit last month, weeks before the federal defamation trial over his Church Militant stories about New Hampshire’s fringe group Slaves of the Immaculate Heart of Mary was set to start.

(N.B. A quick recap of the lawsuit can be found here. This article focuses on the seeming melt down happening to Voris’ defense.)

Now, Voris wants to bring in Massachusetts-based lawyer Marc Randazza. The problem? Randazza’s record of double-dealing which resulted in guilty pleas and formal discipline in multiple courts.

Marc-randazza, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

Randazza, who got in trouble for his actions in a lawsuit involving gay porno companies, fashions himself as a First Amendment crusader and is popular with Info Wars host Alex Jones, Neo Nazi publisher Andrew Anglin, and right-wing personality Mike Cernovich.

New Hampshire priest Rev. Georges de Laire, the judicial vicar for the Manchester Diocese, is suing Voris over defamatory videos and articles Voris published, and starred in. Voris operates Church Militant and St. Michael’s Media, which produces a news website and Youtube video programs.

Attorney’s for de Laire, Howard Cooper and Suzanne Elovecky, are not amused by Voris’ antics, and told the court Randazza’s hire is another tactic to try to tank the lawsuit without a trial. They now want the court to make Voris pay.

“Defendants have engaged in numerous bad faith tactics in this case. Their actions have deprived Father de Laire of critical testimony, derailed a firm trial date, and made this matter far more expensive and emotionally draining for him than it otherwise should have been. Defendants conduct has been so egregious that Father de Laire will shortly move for the entry of a judgment of liability,” Cooper and Elovecky wrote.

Cooper and Elovecky are asking the federal judge to block Voris from bringing Randazza into the case, and they might have precedent.

In 2019, as Jones was being sued by parents of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting victims, he tried to hire Randazza. However, the judge in the case ruled Randazza’s record of serious misconduct was too much. Randazza was not allowed to represent Jones in the Connecticut court, though his law firm stayed on the case. 

The misconduct cited in by the Sandy Hook case judge is that Randazza, while representing gay porno producer Liberty Media Holdings, reportedly also worked on the side for the company Liberty was suing. Records show Randazza even solicited a bribe from the company Liberty was taking action against.

“There needs to be a little gravy for me,” Randazza emailed an opposing attorney in a Liberty lawsuit. “And it has to be more than the $5K you were talking about before. I’m looking at the cost of at least a new Carrera in retainer deposits after circulating around the adult entertainment expo this week. I’m gonna want at least used BMW money.”

A fuller picture of Randazza’s history can be found here. In 2018, he pleaded guilty to violating the attorney code of ethics in Nevada. This resulted in reciprocal discipline in other jurisdictions, and the fact Randazza has to disclose his past conduct when he starts a new case.

The reason Voris is even thinking about hiring Randazza in the first place might have to do with another lawyer involved in the de Laire lawsuit, Marc Balestrieri.

Balestrieri is a conservative canon lawyer who once tried to get Sen. John Kerry excommunicated.

Marc Balestrieri https://www.facebook.com/fsspminneapolis/photos/a.380489198774900/668338999989917/?type=3

He’s also accused of being the real author of the original anonymous article Voris published attacking de Laire in January of 2019. Balestrieri represents the Feeneyite Slaves of the Immaculate Heart of Mary based in Richmond, New Hampshire in their fight against Church sanctions. 

Balestrieri disappeared this summer before he was supposed to sit for a deposition with de Laire’s lawyers. The disappearing act came after Voris sent Balestrieri a threatening text message, according to court records.

Backing up a bit, Voris kept Balestrieri’s connection to the article hidden from de Laire and his lawyers for more than a year as the case worked its way through court. It was only in April of 2022 that Voris conceded that he himself was not the author. Eventually, Balestrieri was outed and made a defendant in the lawsuit.

Or he would have been. Balestrieri dodged process servers for months, even running into the woods to evade a server who tracked him to a conference for canon lawyers, according to court records. 

The process server watched as Balestrieri called a friend who picked him up near the woods so they could drive away. Finally, in October of last year, Balestrieri was found in default in the defamation lawsuit. When the case is finally resolved, Balestrieri will have to pay damages to de Laire.

Interesting side note: according to court records, Voris loaned Balestrieri around $54,000 in June of 2022. The two would later claim this money was to help pay medical bills for Balestrieri’s sick mother. 

Balestrieri stayed out of sight until he made a surprise appearance during a June 15 hearing in the United States District Court in Concord, seeking to have the default judgment lifted. Balestrieri does not have a lawyer, and did not seem to understand the way courts work.

Balestrieri was surprised when Judge Joseph LaPlante told him he was not going to lift the judgment and ordered  him to give deposition as a witness. However, Balestrieri told LaPlante he was eager to clear up lies that had been told about him.

True to form, Balestrieri hemmed and hawed before finally agreeing to a date for the deposition. But, Balestrieri refused to give LaPlante or court staff his address. Balestrieri claimed he lived a “nomadic lifestyle.”

The prospect that Balestrieri would give a deposition under oath, and say he was not the author, presented problems for Voris. Voris had said in his court pleadings he did not question Balestrieri’s sources, and trusted the canon lawyer to tell the truth in his reporting.

Already, though, Balestrieri had told at least one person he never wrote the articles at the center of the defamation case. Chief of the Slaves, Louis Villarubia, also known as Brother Andre, had disclosed in his deposition that Balestrieri was claiming he was not the author.

Photo of Louis Villarubia, aka Br. André Marie, at a recent town meeting in Richmond, NH; courtesy Damien Fisher

Villarubia testified that he was concerned when he learned in June of last year for the first time that his canon lawyer, Balestrieri, had written the articles. Villarubia questioned Balestrieri about the authorship and the conflict of interest. 

“And I said this is a problem, that Michael Voris said you wrote the article and you’re our canon lawyer. And (Balestrieri) said ‘I didn’t write the article.’ He vehemently denied authorship of the article,” Villarubia said during his deposition. “I simply thought that that should be on the record. Obviously, Marc’s chosen not to defend himself, but I have this information, and I thought that this should be part of the record.”

Villarubia further speculated Voris wrote the article with Balestrieri.

After Villarubia’s deposition, Voris and his Church Militant teams scrambled to find evidence linking Balestrieri to the articles. This would result in Voris tripping up himself, and Church Militant co-host Christine Niles. In June and July, Church Militant produced emails and other evidence they say proves Balestrieri’s authorship. 

This new evidence backing Voris’s version of events arrived three months after the discovery in the case closed. And a lot of the evidence Church Militant produced were documents they claimed could not be found when previously ordered to do so, according to court records.

Among this new cache of documents was the threatening text message Voris sent Balestrieri on the day of the June 15 hearing. In it, Voris makes it clear Balestrieri must take the credit for the article and not claim otherwise.

“Marc – you are committing perjury. You know you write that article. What you don’t know is this morning we found proof – your digital fingerprints – all totally documented – on that article. Remember the email address – TomMoore@Churchmilitant.com.? We have all the receipts. You go through with this and we will rain down on you publicly. You are a liar, and a Welch,” Voris wrote.

The “welch” insult raises questions in light of the $54,000 loan.

On July 11, Balestrieri called lawyers for de Laire and left a voice mail informing them he would not attend the deposition. He did not give any reason.

The other problem the new evidence presents is Christine Niles’ statement and work status. Along with the June evidence Church Militant found, Niles supplied the court with a signed statement on July 13 laying out the proof that Balestrieri wrote the article. She claims they were able to link him to the pseudonymous email account, tommoore@churchmillitant.com, as well as drafts of the original article using Google docs. Balestrieri had reportedly used the Tom Moore pen name for years when he wrote articles for Voris.

The excuse for why Niles and Church Militant did not hand over the information linking Balestrieri to the article as previously ordered is an oversight on her part.

“In all sincerity, I forgot that he did not email me the article, but shared it through his Google Drive under his alternate email tommoore@churchmilitant.com,” Niles wrote in her statement.

Niles’ statement is not great for Voris on another front. In it, she makes clear that she is not a practicing attorney, and does not work as an attorney for Church Militant. Niles is an investigative reporter, according to her statement. That’s new to de Laire’s attorneys who say they were given the impression Niles was in-house counsel for Church Militant.

“This comes as a surprise as St. Michael’s Media d/b/a Church Militant and Defendant Gary Michael Voris have repeatedly claimed privilege over conversations with Ms. Niles, including those that pre-dated litigation and did not include trial counsel,” Elovecky wrote in an affidavit.

(Voris’s real name is Gary.)

For the record, Niles is an attorney who is licensed to practice law in Indiana and listed as “Inactive in Good Standing,” according to court documents. Voris’ lawyers tried to refute the accusation they improperly hid Niles behind attorney-client privilege.

“Mr. Voris never refused to answer any question concerning his communications with Mrs. Niles, on the basis of attorney-client privilege, even though he could have,”  Kathleen Klaus, Voris’s now former lawyer wrote.

According to the deposition transcript, it was Klaus who stopped Voris from answering a question about a conversation he had with Niles due to privilege. 

By August, the new evidence was causing fallout and the trial was scheduled to start Sept. 6. Lawyers for de Laire were demanding Voris submit to a new deposition to answer under oath exactly who write the article, and that Niles also make herself available for a deposition.

Instead, Klaus and Voris’s other attorney, Neil Nicholson, quit the case. Their Aug. 10 motion to leave does not detail why they are no longer representing Voris, but gives clues. 

“Recent events that have transpired in the litigation have created an unwaivable conflict between Counsel and their clients … Counsel believes this conflict bars them from taking any further action on behalf of their clients,” Klaus and Nicholson wrote to the court.

Klaus and Nicholson cite New Hampshire’s Rule of Professional Conduct for attorneys 1.7 (a). That rule, concerning conflicts of interest, states lawyers cannot represent clients when there is a concurrent conflict of interest. That’s defined as: (1) the representation of one client will be directly adverse to another client; or (2) there is a significant risk that the representation of one or more clients will be materially limited by the lawyer’s responsibilities to another client, a former client or a third person or by a personal interest of the lawyer.

Voris does have a New Hampshire lawyer engaged for representation, Richard Lehmann. 

It’s been an otherwise rough year for Voris and his crew at Church Militant. This spring, the mini-media mogul was forced to lay off 19 staffers and put the nightly program,  Church Militant Evening News, on hiatus. A former staffer claims the company enacted an “austerity” program to save money.

“Phones were removed from reporters’ desks, health benefits were canceled, essential equipment such as printers were not replaced. There was a freeze in hiring and travel,” former Church Militant employee Kristine Christlieb states.

The staff cuts saved Church Militant about $1 million in salary, according to Christlieb.

What’s for supper? Vol. 345: The Squashebo effect

Watta week! First a little bit of site business:

I’m so delighted that the site subscription problem seems to be finally fixed! I did . . . something. I am not completely sure what. But it seems to have worked, and it looks like people are finally, finally getting emails when I publish again. I’m so sorry it took so long, and I’m very glad to have back the folks who were missing my intermittent folderol!  (If it fails again, please remember that I do also post links to everything on Facebook, other Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and most of all LinkTree. I know it’s not as convenient as just getting it in your inbox, but it is a way to keep up with my nonsense if things go south again! Which of course they will not.)

Speaking of nonsense, our old friend Gary (Michael) Voris has gotten himself in not one but several heaps of legal trouble, and has decided that the best tool with which to dig himself out is, of course, Alex Jones’ old porn lawyer. I called the Pope myself and he said this doesn’t count as gloating because it rises to such a high level of bonkersness, and we’re not made of stone, here.

Damien wrote up a story where you can read all about it, but the deal is that this article goes up for 24 hours for my dear patrons only, before I publish it for everyone on this site, so you know what to do! (Become a patron.) I’m hoping to publish exclusive sneak-peak content for patrons going forward, if this works out. 

Okay! Okay, so here is what we ate this week:

SATURDAY
Corn dogs 

Saturday we were supposed to go to the Egyptian Food Festival, but one kid. had Covid and others of us did not, but were still feeling pretty punk. But I had a lot of pent-up weekend ambition still in me, so I decided we could still slowly, slowly harvest the grapes. It’s early this year, and they’re not as big and juicy as some years, but they were already starting to wither on the vine, so it seemed like time. 

Benny and I spent about an hour picking. Last year, we had to fight the yellow jackets, and pick off countless caterpillars and grasshoppers, but this year, it was strangely quiet. It’s been a strange summer.  

After dinner, I washed the grapes and discovered we had quite a bit more than I realized. 

It took me a couple of hours to sort through them, get rid of all the unripe and rotten ones and stems and leaves, and pack them away, but I got it done, with the help of Creedence Clearwater Revival. 

SUNDAY
Aldi pizza

Next day I did some shopping and grabbed some pizzas for dinner, and got back to the grape mines. We have made jelly in the past, which is a tough way to find out you don’t really like grape jelly. Last year we made juice, sorbet, and then I dyed some cloth with the leftover mash. This year, we just stuck with juice and sorbet. I set aside about four pounds of grapes for the sorbet and mashed the rest in batches

and then simmered it in my giant stock pot. Which wasn’t quiiiite giant enough

and I think it didn’t really simmer properly, which maybe led to it not being as sweet as it might have been. I’m not sure. The grapes themselves were actually sweeter than they are many years, and another difference I noticed was that my hands and arms weren’t itchy and tingling after handling the grapes, like they usually are. Grape mysteries! My theory is that the weather has been weird, which affected the grape chemistry, and this . . . did stuff. I don’t know, I was absent that day. 

I was following this juice recipe, which is quite simple. You just simmer the mashed grapes, and then strain out the skins and seeds, and there’s your juice.

I made an absolute Gothic horrorfest out of the straining part. 

Watch out, lads.

So we got about two gallons of juice. VERY tart juice, which the kids have been drinking all week. 

 

When that was squared away, I moved on to the sorbet, which I am actually planning to finish making later, because we are planning an anniversary party in October. The sorbet recipe is quite simple: First you puree whole grapes, seeds and all, then force that through a sieve. This is the part I did:

Then I bagged it for the freezer.

Later, I’ll make some superfine sugar and blend that with the puree, chill the mixture, and put it in the ice cream maker. This is the sorbet I made last year:

Super intense flavor, much grape. 

MONDAY
Pepperoncini beef sandwiches, chips

Monday I made something I haven’t made for quite some time: Pepperoncini beef sandwiches. Couldn’t be easier. Top round roast was $3.99 a pound, so I bought a few pounds, hacked it into smaller pieces, dropped it in the slow cooker, dumped a jar of pepperoncini with the juice on top of it, set it to low, and let it cook all day. 

Here’s a recipe card, but it just suggests adding Worcestershire sauce to the pot, and putting cheese on top. 

Jump to Recipe

Supper time comes, you pull out the meat and shred it, pull out the pepperoncini and chop them up a little, and it’s a wonderful sandwich. You can put mayo on the roll if you like, but it’s juicy and doesn’t strictly need it. 

You can fish out a little ramekin of the juice and dip your sandwich, too. Mmm, good sandwich. 

And you can have some grape juice on the side! Because boy do we have a lot of grape juice. 

TUESDAY
Gochujang chicken wings, rice, roast broccoli

Chicken wings were $1.99 and I didn’t really want to make oven fried chicken again, so even though I was in a rush, I hunted around for a new recipe, and happened upon this gochujang chicken wing recipe from Lord Byron’s Kitchen. It is so simple, I was pretty skeptical, but I tried it, and it’s fabulous. 

In the morning, I BAKED the chicken. Yes, just baked it at a high temperature, just absolutely bare, on parchment paper, no fat or seasoning or anything. (It says to wash it and pat it dry, which I skipped. What am I, Jordan Peterson? Wash yourself.) 

Then I made up a simple sauce on the stovetop, using oil, gochujang, soy sauce, rice vinegar, salt and pepper, fresh garlic and fresh vinegar. It also calls for sesame seeds, but my kitchen is a disaster and I couldn’t find them. It also calls for one clove of garlic and one tablespoon of minced ginger, which, my dear Lord Byron. I quintupled it. So you just mix up the sauce until it thickens (and maybe you’ve heard me moaning about my sauce issues, but it really did thicken like it was supposed to).

The recipe says to add the baked chicken to the hot sauce, char it a little, and serve it right away. But I was cooking in the morning; so I put the chicken and sauce in the fridge, and in the evening I mixed them together and then spread them on the sheet pan again and put them back in a hot oven until they were sizzling. Worked perfectly. 

Gosh, they were good. They honestly tasted like fried chicken. The skin was crisp, the sauce was sticky, the meat was not dried out, and I was delighted. A big hit. Definitely putting this recipe in the rotation, especially with the morning/evening cooking tweak. 

I made a pot of rice (I couldn’t find my second Instant Pot pot [told you, my kitchen is a disaster] and the primary one was full of juice) on the stove like a peasant, and made a tray of roast broccoli in the few minutes before dinner, and it was a great meal

If I could have found the sesame oil (ALSO MISSING. If someone wants to come rescue my kitchen, I would not mind) and sesame seeds, I would have made sesame broccoli

Jump to Recipe

but I just drizzled some olive oil and soy sauce and kosher salt over it and stuck it under the broiler until it was steaming but still a little crunchy. Very good. Probably could have skipped the salt.

WEDNESDAY
Almond crusted tilapia, risotto, mashed squash

Wednesday I had to face this giant pouch of tilapia filets I had bought on sale. I was once again not excited about frying anything, so I tried a recipe someone told me about on Facebook: You grind up equal amounts of almonds and parmesan cheese, dip your fish in something for a binder, and then dredge it in the cheese-nut mixture. So I did that, and set it aside. 

Then I made a big pot of risotto, in honor of it’s getting cold outside. Instant Pot risotto is one of the great consolations of autumn. 

Jump to Recipe

I have tweaked my recipe so it is profoundly calorific and has enough fat to get a small, plump village through to January at least, and it’s way easier than stovetop risotto. 

But what about a vegetable? It so happens I have had a butternut squash on the counter since . . . last time it was butternut squash season. It sat there all though the spring and summer, just quietly, pinkly, squashily biding its time. Butternut squash endures. 

I cut off the ends, poked it all over with a fork, and microwaved it for three minutes, to make it easier to cut. Then I hacked it in half, scooped out pulp and seeds, and sprinkled it with kosher salt and a little baking soda.

The theory here is that the baking soda raises the pH of the squash, so that the caramelization happens faster than it would if the squash were . . . neutral. I don’t know. I was absent that day. All I know is, when I put baking soda on, the squash seems to come out a little sweeter and a little richer in flavor, which may completely be one of those butternut placebo effects I’ve been hearing so much about, but on the other hand, who among us. It’s so easy that I’m going to keep doing it. 

So I put the squash on the trivet in the Instant Pot and added a cup of water, closed the lid and valve, and set it to cook for 24 minutes.

Jump to Recipe

When it was done, I scooped out the flesh, mashed it, and added some butter, cinnamon, chili powder, and brown sugar. 

Hot damn, it was good. Only a few people in this house like mashed squash, but those who do feel pretty strongly about it. 

So, the almond and parmesan crusted tilapia. I just dipped the fish in egg and milk, and dredged it in the almond and parmesan, and baked it until it was golden. It was . . . fine. I had used freshly grated parmesan, which tasted so strong when I tested it that I didn’t add any other seasoning, and this was a mistake. It was crunchy and nutty, but (and I feel silly for not anticipating this) extremely bland. A squeeze of lemon helped, but no as much as one would hope. 

Oh well, you live and learn. The squash and risotto were top notch. And the tilapia was on sale!

THURSDAY
Roast pork ribs, Brussels sprouts, garlic bread

Thursday was the third or fourth day in the course of two weeks that I had been planning to make this chicken saltimbocca recipe.  Why? I don’t know, it just got into my head that I need to make it, and I got all the ingredients; but when it comes down to it, reality keeps asserting itself, and I keep not making it after all. On Thursday, I got home after 5:00 and the chicken wasn’t even defrosted, so that was the universe’s way of telling me to stop with the saltimbocca nonsense for the moment. I ran to the store and got some pork ribs, which I roasted with salt and pepper. I will fight you: This is the best way to eat pork ribs. Just sizzling hot and a tiny bit charred, with salt and pepper. 

We also had some baguettes getting stale, so I made some quick garlic bread, and we had three pounds of Brussels sprouts that were about to become awful, so I trimmed them and spread them in a pan drizzled on olive oil, balsamic vinegar, honey, kosher salt, and hot pepper flakes, and roasted them along with the ribs. 

Was I proud of myself for going from cold kitchen to quite good, three-piece hot meal in about 25 minutes? I really was.

And yes, that is a little lunchbox tub of apple sauce on my plate. I like applesauce.

FRIDAY
??

Possibly leftovers. I feel like we have a lot of leftovers in this house. 

AND THAT’S MY STORY.

Beef pepperoncini sandwiches

Ingredients

  • 1 hunk beef
  • 1 jar pepperoncini
  • several glugs Worcestershire sauce (optional)
  • rolls
  • sliced provolone

Instructions

  1. Put the beef in a slow cooker with a jar of pepperoncini and the juice. If you like, cut the stems off the pepperoncini. If there isn't enough juice, add some beer. Add the worcestershire sauce if you want a slightly more savory juice.

  2. Cover, set to low, and let it cook for several hours until the meat falls apart when poked with a fork. 

  3. Shred the meat. If you like, chop up a few of the pepperoncini. 

  4. Serve meat on rolls with mayo if you like. Lay sliced provolone over the meat and slide it under the broiler to toast the bread and melt the cheese. Serve the juice on the side for dipping. 

Sesame broccoli

Ingredients

  • broccoli spears
  • sesame seeds
  • sesame oil
  • soy sauce

Instructions

  1. Preheat broiler to high.

    Toss broccoli spears with sesame oil. 

    Spread in shallow pan. Drizzle with soy sauce and sprinkle with sesame seeds

    Broil for six minutes or longer, until broccoli is slightly charred. 

Instant Pot Mashed Acorn Squash

Ingredients

  • 1 acorn quashes
  • 1/4 tsp baking soda
  • 1 tsp kosher salt
  • 2 Tbsp butter
  • 2 Tbsp brown sugar
  • 1/2 tsp nutmeg

Instructions

  1. Cut the acorn squashes in half. Sprinkle the baking soda and salt on the cut surfaces.

  2. Put 1/2 a cup of water in the Instant Pot, fit the rack in it, and stack the squash on top. Close the lid, close the valve, and cook on high pressure for 24 minutes. Do quick release.

  3. When squash is cool enough to handle, scoop it out into a bowl, mash it, and add the rest of the ingredients.

 

Instant Pot Risotto

Almost as good as stovetop risotto, and ten billion times easier. Makes about eight cups. 

Ingredients

  • 1 medium onion, diced
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced or crushed
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1 tsp ground sage
  • 3 Tbsp olive oil
  • 4 cups rice, raw
  • 6 cups chicken stock
  • 2 cups dry white wine
  • 1/2 cup butter
  • pepper
  • 1.5 cups grated parmesan cheese

Instructions

  1. Turn IP on sautee, add oil, and sautee the onion, garlic, salt, and sage until onions are soft.

  2. Add rice and butter and cook for five minutes or more, stirring constantly, until rice is mostly opaque and butter is melted.

  3. Press "cancel," add the broth and wine, and stir.

  4. Close the top, close valve, set to high pressure for 9 minutes.

  5. Release the pressure and carefully stir in the parmesan cheese and pepper. Add salt if necessary. 

You gonna eat that?

Can you stand to hear more about food? Because I guess until I’m worm food myself, I’m gonna have to keep thinking about it, and if I’m thinking about it, I’m talking about it. What a to-do. 

I wrote about how I managed to lose forty pounds, and I kept that weight off for about a year and a half. Then I got a little sloppy and gained back seven or eight pounds, but that was okay; then I started taking Lexapro and gained an additional 15 pounds, and that was less okay. Then I felt so rotten about the extra weight that I put on another ten. Then my therapist told me she thought I had achieved my goals and was pretty functional and maybe we didn’t need to meet anymore, unless there was anything else I wanted to work on? 

And I was like actually, there is this one big thing. And it is my ass.

But seriously, it’s not really food that’s the problem. It’s how I think about food. Believe it or not, it’s fairly crazy. It’s like I’m living in a house that I’ve been working on renovating for the last several years, and some of the rooms are pretty great, and all of them are basically functional . . .  except for this one room, and I have to tiptoe past it and not think about what’s inside, because if I open the door, absolutely anything could be going on in there. And that is the room called “food thoughts.”

So, starting about three weeks ago, I’m starting over again, yay! Yay. But this time, with therapy. And an APP, which I HATE. But it is WORKING. Which I HATE. I’m slowly losing the weight again, in a sensible, mindful, presumably sustainable way, this time with much bigger focus on my emotional processes around food and eating. There was nothing wrong with how I was doing it last time, but I was mainly figuring out how I was gaining weight, but this time I am figuring out why. People said the last post was helpful, so I thought this follow-up might be, as well. I’m not actually giving advice, I’m just . . . I don’t know what. I have a Halloween-themed shopping bag with a cat on it that says “CREEPIN’ IT REAL” so I guess that’s what I’m doing. 

Quick, logistical rundown: It is sort-of intermittent fasting plus calorie deficit and regular moderate activity, because that builds on the way I was living anyway; this just sort of codifies it, so I don’t fool myself that I’m doing more and eating less than I think I am. Plus a food journal (more about that in a minute.) 

A typical day: I have coffee with cream in the morning, do a yoga workout in late morning, have lunch (usually a lot of vegetables, a little protein, and container of Greek yogurt) between 1:00 and 2:00, have a snack around 4:30 when I get home from picking up the kids, and eat a normal dinner around 6:00. We don’t drink alcohol anymore, so that’s it for the day. I really only drink seltzer, and very occasionally a Coke Zero. On weekends, I have more snacks and maybe dessert. I don’t count calories very strictly, but I squint at it and aim for a calorie count that puts me in a deficit for my age, weight, height, sex, and activity level. 

This is what I was already doing last time. The difference this time is that I’m also logging every bit of food I eat, and I’m stopping and noting what I’m feeling and thinking before I eat.

I’m using an app called Recovery Record that’s designed for eating disorder recovery. I don’t have an eating disorder, but I wanted something that focused on the psychological aspects of eating, rather than the calories or carbs or whatever. I chose it more or less at random just to force myself to get started, because I was massively, massively resisting the idea of starting a food log, and I just had to pick something.

The app is fine. It’s not intrusive, and you can set it to give you gentle audible reminders to eat and log various things, if you like. It offers copious  affirmations and coping skills you can collect or reject, so they will either pop up again or not, as you like, and the background images change week to week, which I’m sure is motivational in some way. You also have weekly goals you are prompted to review periodically, and you win prizes which I think are music downloads or something (I haven’t really investigated). Overall, it’s basically dignified, a tiny bit goofy but not over the top, and you can customize it in tons of ways that I’m not using. If you’re familiar with the twelve-step idea of “take what you need and leave the rest,” this is that: You acknowledge that some of it is going to be annoying or irrelevant, but you’re in it to help yourself, so you’re on the lookout for useful stuff, and some of it will be very useful indeed, if you’re not a baby or a snob. 

Anyway, I’m finding that having this log is giving me an essential foothold to stick with my plan every day. It’s sort of like when you are tempted to commit a sin, and you know you shouldn’t, but you wanna. But then you imagine yourself having to confess it, and you really don’t wanna do that. So you don’t do it, just because you don’t want to confess it. And then as soon as you make up your mind not to do it, the power of the temptation goes poof, and you’re left feeling kind of dumb for how hard it was to resist, but mostly you’re just grateful to be on the other side of it. This is what the kids used to call “very imperfect contrition” (not just fearing the pains of hell, but dreading the pains of having to say you-know-what in front of Fr. Stan). So this is very imperfect healthy eating or something. 

So once you get past that “I’m not going to die if I don’t eat that cold grilled cheese crust sitting on the table” moment, then maybe you can take a minute and think about your feeeeelings. If you want. 

Some of my feelings around food are:

“I can’t get anything done today! Aughhhh, aieeee, grrr, I can’t get anything done! But I can get THIS done [::CRONCH::]”

“Oh shit, it’s been such a crappy day and everything is terrible, but you know what’s not terrible, is food”

“Here, fatty fat fat, you’re so fat, have some more fatness for your fatty fatness”

“Perfectly good food going to waste” (and some subsets: “I made this and nobody appreciated it!” and “This is the last [whatever] of the season and everything is dying and nobody else cares!”)

“A TREAT THAT MIGHT DISAPPEAR FOREVER. What if my big sisters get there first! What if there is never another treat again! Poor poor poor! Grab it quick!!!”

“I can’t have this? I’m sorry, you’re gonna tell me I can’t have this? Who the hell are you?

“o i am so tired”

“If I don’t eat now, they will know I already just ate a lot, so now I have to eat twice”

“You’re already off the rails so far, what’s the point, who are you fooling?”

and so on. (Wow, this is so much fun.) I don’t write down all those things in the food log, but I will think about what’s going through my head, and maybe what kind of counter-argument I make, and make a mental note of it all, and maybe note down “tired” or “sad” or whatever. And if the same thing keeps coming up at a certain time of day, then I will realize that I can make it easier on myself by adjusting my schedule or tweaking my plans. Or even just acknowledging, “Ope, this is the time of day you always feel X, and you’ll want to deal with it by eating chips. But remember, you don’t have to!” A lot of these thoughts are VERY primitive, and they do not stand up to even the tiniest amount of scrutiny. Sometimes all you have to do is go, “hello, I see you” and they go “eek!” and run away. 
 

A few logistical things: 

I’m eating all normal food, and as much whole food as possible. You just get the most bang for your buck (the most volume, the most nutrition, feeling fullest, and getting the fewest calories), if you skip the processed food, in my experience; and I feel more deprived if I have a small amount of food than if I have to substitute one food for another, so I go for volume. The few special “diet” foods I get for myself are 100-calorie packs of nuts, which I keep on hand for times when I am undeniably stomach-growlingly hungry, not just feeling bored or sad or munchy; and 100-calorie bags of microwave popcorn, which registers as a really nice treat for me, and cheers me up, if I don’t have it too often. Frozen mango chunks are surprisingly low-calorie (100 calories for a cup) and they are very sweet and creamy, and really taste like dessert to me. Tart green apples are also really good, eaten a slice at a time, if I’m done with dinner but I just feel like I still want a little sumpin’.

Lunches that clock in around 300-400 calories, that I eat all the time:

-Two eggs sautéed in spinach with cooking spray; Greek yogurt 
-Giant heap of spinach with 3-4 pieces of deli turkey or ham and or leftover chicken breast with balsamic vinegar; apple
-hummus and carrots; Greek yogurt and small pita pocket
-Banana, Greek yogurt, nuts, a heap of sugar snap peas
-Wendy’s parmesan chicken salad

Where I run into trouble is when I don’t let myself think. I do a lot of mental. hand-waving and tell myself I’m upset or rushing or confused, and I’m not able to stop and think, and then oh nooo, I ate more than I meant to! This is a silly but effective trick I play on myself so I don’t have to think. I am never actually so hungry that I can’t stop for a minute and think, “Okay, what do I actually plan to eat right now?” and then I make a decision about it, and imagine writing it down in the log. I never plan to eat stupid things, so as long as I give myself three seconds to actually plan, I’m good. 

My trickiest time of day is before dinner, when I get home from driving the kids home, everyone is being their loudest and most obnoxious and demanding, I am in the kitchen finishing up making dinner and helping the kids make their lunches, and I also have a lot of residual historical anxiety from all the years when I was doing all these things with a baby and/or toddler hanging off me and my husband wasn’t going to be home for another six hours. (This isn’t the case anymore, but the “time to panic” cue really took root.) If I don’t pay attention, I will easily eat an entire meal’s worth of snacks before dinner, one little handful of this and that at a time, mostly out of frustration.

I have done what I can to mitigate the frustration — cleaning the kitchen earlier in the day, doing more dinner prep so there’s less actual cooking to do, stepping out of the kitchen unless I actually need to be in there — but mostly I have landed with just leaning into the sensation of wanting to kill someone with my teeth, and letting that someone be sugar snap peas or raw cabbage shreds or baby carrots or broccoli spears. I know that sounds really lame and diet culture-y, but for me, it’s acknowledging that I’m not always going to have this perfect, zen-like attitude toward nourishing myself, so at very least I can avoid fucking my calorie count, and I can emerge with my self-respect more or less intact, and still enjoy dinner.

I also get a lot of mileage from going ahead and admitting how disappointed I am that I’m not eating whatever-it-is. I will stand there in front of the fridge and have a tiny mental temper tantrum because there is a cup of rice pudding right there and I want it but I’m not going to have it and I’m mad. Then I go ahead and choose the bag of carrots instead. And I almost hate to admit this, but sometimes the little explosive emotional discharge that just went off is . . . . actually what I wanted, and I don’t care about the rice pudding anymore. Maybe I nibble a few carrots just for the hell of it, but just a few. It turns out I am five years old and that is why I am fat. I don’t know. Anyway, at least it’s just food and not hookers or heroin. Anyway, I didn’t eat the rice pudding. Maybe I’ll have some this weekend (rice pudding). 

My therapist also said that, statistically speaking, people are more successful if they buddy up with someone to lose weight, which makes sense. I’m not doing that, but I did tell Damien what I’m up to, so at least he knows. And I’m telling you! Several thousand of my closest friends. Thanks for listening, hope this helps. 

What’s for supper? Vol. 344: Wo be di saa!

Happy Friday! I’m rull sorry I haven’t posted anything this week. I did try. I guess I’m still adjusting to the school schedule, and then I got my flu shot, which unexpectedly kicked my ass. I started like four essays, and it all seemed incredibly stupid, so I couldn’t get myself to finish any of it. The second half of the month is going to be a doozy, let me tell you. 

There was also a certain amount of this kind of thing:

We had some nice meals, though. Shook things up a little bit, in a good way. Here’s what we had: 

SATURDAY
Homemade waffles, sausages, strawberries, OJ

We had a bunch of duck eggs, including one that was suspiciously large

and I also got a bee in my bonnet and cleaned out the island cabinet, and found the old waffle iron Damien’s Aunt Willie gave us for a wedding present. I used to make waffles allll the time when we first got married, because we got eggs from WIC and my mother’s cousin Fran had given us a cookbook

with a waffle recipe in it. This was before there were recipes on the internet, so even though it was kind of an annoying recipe (it’s a little complicated, and she also says “smashing” twice on the same page), I stuck with it. It calls for separating the eggs, beating the whites, and folding them into the batter

But I have to admit, it makes damn fine waffles. 

Crisp on the outside, fluffy and eggy inside. It probably didn’t hurt that the suspiciously large duck egg turned out, as I suspected, to have two yolks:

This is apparently fairly common as the ducks gear up their egg-making parts. We also get the occasional “jello egg,” which is a normal egg with a soft, squishy shell, usually laid in the grass instead of in the duck house. Apparently we might also get an egg within an egg! We had about a week of two eggs per day, and now production has slowed down for some reason. I’m going to start giving them ground-up egg shells in their feed, in case they need more calcium. 

Oh, so we had waffles, good sausages, strawberries, and OJ for dinner. 

We call this “breakfast for dinner” even though we generally have things like popcorn, apples, or nothing for actual breakfast. 

Also on Saturday, I suddenly remembered that, back when I was deep in “oh nooo, summer is almost over and we didn’t doooo anything” panic, I bought a ticket for something which I have on my calendar as “Jurassic thing,” and that Jurassic thing was today! But after being able to find only the meagerest of photos and videos of the actual show, it dawned on me that this was probably aimed at slightly slow-witted toddlers. And of course the closest thing we had to a toddler was an eight-year-old, and she, of course, did not want to go. She wanted to stay home and watch TMNT cartoons.

But I had a ticket! So me and the teenagers and two adult kids piled into the car and we went and saw the Jurassic thing. It’s supposed to be accompanied by an audio tour that you download on your phone, but they set up out in a field in Swanzey, where nobody gets any data; so we just motored slowly past about a dozen audibly creaking animatronic dino statues in different stages of emotional distress

and that was the Jurassic thing. We honestly had a really nice time. Sometimes you just gotta go out and drive slowly past some creaky dinosaurs, I guess. Lena tried her best to make up an audio tour on the fly, but her efforts were not received with respect, so she gave up. 

SUNDAY
Shepherd’s pie, Halloween cupcakes/North African food

Sunday, Damien and I went to a party at the home of one of his editors, and the kids at home decided they wanted shepherd’s pie, so I was like, you go right ahead. It’s pretty great having older kids. Here’s how that worked out:

Damien and I stopped at an African food store in Concord, mainly because I was hoping to find some teff so I can try making injera. That’s an Ethiopian flatbread, though, and this was a Ghanian store, and the guy had never even heard of teff or injera, so I picked out a box of fufu mix instead,

fufu being the only other African food that I know what it is. (I did read up a little and find out that fufu is a kind of “swallow food,” which is a category of soft, pliable foods that you’re supposed to eat without chewing! Which, I haven’t checked my food journal app yet, but I’m pretty sure eating without chewing is not going to earn me a healthy habits puzzle piece that I’m supposed to be collecting through, even though I can already tell it’s just a picture of Shakira.)  

I also looked up the slogan on the box, “Wo be di sa!!!!” and apparently it means “You will eat continuously stop eating it.”

So, I’ll just jot that down in my food journal, I suppose. Or possibly just on my gravestone. 

ANYWAY, I chatted up the poor man running the store, and he said it’s his sister’s store, and she also has a restaurant in town. So we zipped right over to Maddy’s Food Hub and ordered up a bunch of North African and Carribbean food: Fried plantain with a rrrrremarkable savory shrimp sauce

and Damien had smoky rice jollof and goat with some kind of herby garlic sauce

and I had croaker (red snapper) in palm nut stew with a cream rice ball

Let me tell you, everything was completely delicious, just mouthwatering. Spicy, but not overpowering. The palm nut stew is a flavor I’ve never had before, but it still somehow tasted incredibly nostalgic and comforting. So nourishing. 

The food came really fast, the service was very friendly, the place was very clean and quiet, the prices were reasonable, and if you’re anywhere near Concord, I highly recommend this great little restaurant, which has only been open for just over a month. They also do GrubHub and catering.

MONDAY
Oven fried chicken, cat biscuits, collard greens

Monday I got some chicken soaking in egg and milk and salt and pepper in the morning, and picked another round of collard greens from the garden. 

I got them cooking in the Instant Pot using this vegan recipe from Black People’s Recipes. One of these days I will use ham or bacon, but this recipe is nice and savory as is. 

Somehow on the way home from school, I got myself into a situation where I needed a bribe, so I rashly promised Corrie I would make cat-shaped biscuits.

I used this recipe

Jump to Recipe

and we definitely have a cat-shaped cookie cutter in the house somewhere, but where, I do not know. So I used one that’s supposed to be a tulip, and squashed the extra points down, so it was . . . sort of cat-shaped? Just the head, I mean. I also made a bunch of stars, because I had my doubts about the cats.

I put them in the fridge and warned Corrie repeatedly that biscuits are not like cookies (this is America!), and they’re not going to keep their shape very well when they bake. 

I’m annoyed at myself for not having written up a recipe card for oven fried chicken yet, but I’m going to copy-paste what I tapped out last time (including the milk and egg part, which I had done in the morning):

Make a milk and eggs mix (two eggs per cup of milk), enough to at least halfway submerge the chicken, and add plenty of salt and pepper, and let that soak for a few hours before supper.

About 40 minutes before dinner, heat the oven to 425. In an oven-safe pan with sides, put about a cup of oil and a stick or two of butter and let that melt and heat up.

Then put plenty of flour in a bowl (I always give myself permission to use a lot and waste some flour, because I hate it when there’s not enough and you have to patch it together from whatever’s left, and it gets all pasty) and season it heavily with salt, pepper, garlic powder, paprika, and whatever else you want – chili powder, cumin, etc. It should have some color in it when you’re done seasoning! Take the chicken out of the milk mix and dredge it in the flour. 

Then pull the hot pan out of the oven and lay the chicken, skin side down, in the pan, return it to the oven and cook for about 25 minutes. Then flip it and let it continue cooking, probably for another 20 minutes or more, depending on how big the pieces of chicken are. 

In the very last part of cooking the chicken, I slid the biscuits in there, and do you know, they more or less kept their shape!

I probably could have left them in for another minute or two to darken up, but they were really good. Extremely light and fluffy with tear-apart layers, a rich buttery flavor, and a lovely, flaky outside.

And Corrie stared into their blank, floury faces and declared them cats. So that was good. 

The collard greens were also swell, super smoky and flavorful. 

The chicken also turned out excellent. The skin was so crisp, it really crunched.

Yep, I was pretty pleased with this meal overall. 

I award myself one biscuit star. 

(And miraculously, I did in fact eat just one biscuit. It’s this freaking food journal. It’s actually working, and I’m so mad.) 

TUESDAY
Chef’s salad/misc

Tuesday the original plan was a Cobb salad, but the host of the party we went to insisted that we bring home tons of food, so we had a giant spinach salad with dried cranberries, blue cheese, and walnuts in it, plus lots of good sliced turkey and ham, and some soft rolls. 

So I cooked up a few pounds of bacon, made a bunch of deviled eggs, cut up some tomatoes and a giant cucumber from the garden, and we just had a sort of “chef’s salad and so on” meal, which is always popular. 

One of the biggest favors I have ever done myself is forcing myself to start enjoying salad without dressing. I really prefer it that way now, and it’s …. helpful. Just another way of chipping away at calories without making giant changes in how I eat. It’s always easier to make adjustments than revolutions! 

I couldn’t find any mayonnaise, so I made the deviled eggs with aioli and mustard, and they were quite nice that way. The kids didn’t notice the difference, but they had a little extra adult tang to them that I enjoyed. 

WEDNESDAY
Spiedies, fake Doritos

Wednesday I made a marinade in the morning

This is such a simple, easy marinade, and you can also use it for shish kebab, or it would probably be great on chicken. I had a couple of boneless pork somethings (I can never keep my cuts straight), and cut them into cubes and let that all marinate all day. 

Then in the evening, I broiled the meat in one big sheet pan, and another sheet pan with a bunch of cut-up bell peppers and mushrooms with a little olive oil and garlic salt and pepper. I toasted some buns and put a little mayo on, and we had lovely sandwiches.

Hey look, I got my thumb in this shot! Nice. 

But seriously, the meat gets nice and tender, and this is a real low-effort, high-flavor meal. Fifteen minutes of work in the morning, fifteen minutes of cooking in the evening, boom. 

THURSDAY
Italian meatloaf, no brussels sprouts

Thursday in the morning, I made two big Italian meatloaves more or less following the recipe from Sip and Feast, a site I heartily recommend.

I stopped on the way home and picked up Brussels sprouts for a side, but by the time I got home, I was incredibly exhausted and cranky, so I couldn’t get myself to cook them. 

You’re supposed to put the vegetables in the pan with the meatloaf and tomato wine sauce and let it all cook together, but I had chosen a pan that was too small, and it was already overflowing. Then I suddenly realized that I didn’t even have mushrooms, because the ones I had put in the spiedies the previous day were actually supposed to be for the meatloaf. But we had some leftover! So I cut up onions and cooked them, added the leftover mushrooms and peppers (the recipe does not call for peppers, but it worked well enough), and just served that on the side. I’m sorry, I’m on a details jag and can’t stop now. 

The upshot is we had a nice, tasty, slightly off-recipe meatloaf with a bunch of hot Italian-style vegetables on top of it

and we even had some leftover bread from the party, and then I took a three-hour nap, and then I remembered that I had just gotten a flu shot, and that’s probably why I couldn’t get myself to make Brussels sprouts.

Get your flu shot! It will excuse you from Brussels sprouts! Rah rah! 

FRIDAY
Spaghetti?

WELL, the kids requested regular spaghetti with sauce from a jar, with no fancy ethnic tricks or lumpy things or anything, and I was happy to comply, but then some of the kids had a back-to-school picnic. So some of us were going to go to that. 
BUHT, someone in the house just tested positive for Covid this morning. So here we freaking go. I think we’ll skip the picnic. Stay home and eat Brussels sprouts. Wo be di saa indeed. 

moron biscuits

Because I've been trying all my life to make nice biscuits and I was too much of a moron, until I discovered this recipe. It has egg and cream of tartar, which is weird, but they come out great every time. Flaky little crust, lovely, lofty insides, rich, buttery taste.

Ingredients

  • 6 cups flour
  • 6 Tbsp sugar
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 2 Tbsp + 2 tsp baking powder
  • 1 tsp cream of tartar
  • 1-1/2 cups (3 sticks) butter, chilled
  • 2 eggs
  • 2 cups milk

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven to 450.

  2. In a bowl, combine the flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, and cream of tartar.

  3. Grate the chilled butter with a box grater into the dry ingredients.

  4. Stir in the milk and egg and mix until just combined. Don't overwork it. It's fine to see little bits of butter.

  5. On a floured surface, knead the dough 10-15 times. If it's very sticky, add a little flour.

  6. With your hands, press the dough out until it's about an inch thick. Cut biscuits. Depending on the size, you can probably get 20 medium-sized biscuits with this recipe.

  7. Grease a pan and bake for 10-15 minutes or until tops are golden brown.

5 from 1 vote
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pork spiedies (can use marinade for shish kebob)

Ingredients

  • 1 cup veg or olive oil
  • 1/4 cup lemon juice
  • 1/2 cup red or white wine vinegar
  • 4 tsp red pepper flakes
  • 2 Tbsp sugar
  • 1 cup fresh mint, chopped
  • 8-10 cloves garlic, crushed
  • 4-5 lbs boneless pork, cubed
  • peppers, onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, cut into chunks

Instructions

  1. Mix together all marinade ingredients. 

    Mix up with cubed pork, cover, and marinate for several hours or overnight. 

    Best cooked over hot coals on the grill on skewers with vegetables. Can also spread in a shallow pan with veg and broil under a hot broiler.

    Serve in sandwiches or with rice. 

What’s for supper? Vol. 343: Duck eggs and fox nuts

Happy Friday! Today I am here to make you feel relatively stable and sane. 

Here’s what we ate:

SATURDAY
Regular tacos

Nothing to report. I took this picture mainly to remind me what we ate on Saturday, but best practice is to include lots of photos in the post, so here ya go.

Oh, I guess I actually have to report that I wasn’t paying attention when I sprinkled in the hot pepper flakes, and a lot of people made “wooooo!” sounds when they tasted the meat, which I took as a compliment. 

SUNDAY
Pizza

Sunday was freeeeeaking hot. I made myself do some gardening anyway, because I know that, by the time it’s time to plant bulbs, I’m going to have strep throat or tendonitis or the cold robbies something, and I won’t be able to manage it. So I prepped the little patio St. Joseph garden, which had gotten to look like this:

and now it looks like this

Now it just needs to get a little colder, and I can stuff the mulched area full of daffodil, tulips, and crocus bulbs. This will be nice in the spring, but it’s mostly to give me something to think about all winter, so I don’t kuh-kuh-kuh-kay em ess. 

I’ve also been gathering cosmos and marigold seeds. I’ve been deadheading my marigolds several times a week, and putting the heads up to dry for a week or so, and then pulling the seeds out, which is fun. LOOK how many seeds I have. 

And there’s more to come! Next year, I will have an UNSPEAKABLE amount of marigolds. 

Then, after gardening, it was time to make pizza! One olive, one pepperoni, and one arugula and prosciutto. I guess it’s time to make up a recipe card for this pizza. Here you go: 

Jump to Recipe

I actually had a mix of arugula and spinach, and I have to say, I prefer just arugula for this pizza. It stays a little snappier in texture, and the peppery flavor is nice. I also couldn’t find the olive oil. We have had a week of Everything Breaking, and one of the more minor things that broke was the shelf where I keep all my bottles, daily pills, and most-used measuring cups and spoons

Just came crashing down,

and it’s proved strangely difficult to put it up again (as you can see by the variety of screws, anchors, and adhesive whatnot on display now). So everything is here and there and not to be found, which is aggravating.

Despite these handicaps, it was still very delicious pizza. I did not hold back with the parmesan.

I had two pieces and didn’t really want a third, but I really, really wanted some more pizza crust, which I mentioned wistfully, so Damien got another piece and ate it except for the crust, which he offered to me. Find yourself a man who etc. etc.

MONDAY
Burgers and brats

Monday, Labor Day, we executed a plan we had . . . sort of worked out. That is to say, we’d been planning to do it for about a week, and had thought about the details up to a point, but maybe not quite as granularly as we mights have. Which is to say we left five hours later than we meant to, and it turns out two kayaks and a canoe are not really enough boats to get ten people to an island, unless your husband is willing to paddle back and forth a ridiculous number of times, dragging empty kayaks behind him.

The other part of the plan was that we would visit the island, then go get ice cream, and then get home at a normal time and have a little cookout, but I had already made various other errors during the week, and already used up some of Monday’s burger meat to compensate for those errors, but was then so overwhelmed by Boat Happenstances that I forgot this had happened, so, you know whattt, mistakes were made. Basically Dora was at our house for three hours playing with the cat and waiting for us to get home and give her a burger, and she eventually gave up and went home, and then the rest of us went and got ice cream in the dark, except for me because I was still in a swim suit, because my clothes were sopping wet because I have forgotten how to get in and out of a boat without falling in the water; and Damien went home and cooked not-quite-enough-burgers in the even darker, and the rest of us went home and ate them. Good thing it’s just labor day and not a real holiday!

Anyway, while we were on the island, we met a family with a little girl named Elise, maybe four years old, who was VERY ADAMANT THAT WE REMEMBER HER. Her name is Elise, and don’t you forget it. She blew us several kisses as her somewhat weary-looking mom paddled her away. They, too, seemed to be running a bit behind schedule on this, the most laborious of holidays. 

TUESDAY
Tuna and shrimp poke bowls, tropical fruit, and caramelized lotus pods

This was quite a delicious meal. Last time I made poke bowls, they were so good, I saw no reason to try any other variation, so I just recreated them: A big pot of rice, raw ahi tuna cut into little chunks, shrimp sautéed in chili oil with minced garlic and a little lime juice,

and chili lime cashews, and pea shoots and raw sugar snap peas, and some Polynesian sweet hot sauce. 

Boy, it was good. I also made a platter of watermelon, mango, and papaya, which accidentally formed itself into an Eye of Sauron, but was mostly harmless

The other thing was the lotus pods. Also known as — no, not monkey nuts. Foxnuts. Wow, if you knew how many things I had to stop and look up today, you would wonder if I were still fit to be Senate Minority Leader. Anyway, Clara gave me a couple packets of lotus seed pods,

and I thought the most popular thing to do would be to candy them, so that’s what I did, forgetting for the moment that I’m an idiot and do really poorly with caramelizing anything. 

So I followed this recipe, mainly because I had bought some jaggery quite a while back and really wanted to use it. The author, Ruchi, introduces her page by saying, “Welcome to my incredible food paradise! If you are passionate about food, this is the right place to explore exquisite recipes. From tasty starters, delicious meals, and blissful sweet delights, here you will find everything to please the gourmet in you.” Which, I will be honest, I was just not in the mood for. My therapist wants me to keep a food journal, and write down how I feel and what I think when I eat more than I plan to, and even though I am passionate about food, getting welcomed to an incredible food paradise by Ruchi with her foxnuts is just not helping anything.

I mean, yes, I realize that, as usual I realize that [waves arms dramatically like an exasperated orchestra conductor], I’m the one choosing to do all of this, but it still pissed me off. All of it. The cooking, the new recipe, the fox nuts, the therapy, everything. Whatever. If you had seen me trying to get out of a kayak while everyone was watching, maybe you would alter your opinions of exactly how much I’m in control of my actions. 

Anyway, I fucked up the fox nuts. I burned them, and then I added coconut and burned the coconut, too. Then I switched pans, to get away from the burny taste a little bit. That wasn’t a terrible idea, but then I still had to get the jaggery to the right temperature, and I’m really just awful at making candy, and it was also extremely humid out. So I ended up with this:

It may look like a platter of snacky bits, but it’s all one solid piece. You can break off individual pods, but they were hard as rocks. YES I ATE THEM ANYWAY. What do you take me for. 

And it was a delicious meal. What’s that? How did I feeeeel while I was eating it? I felt great! Eating makes me feel great! That’s why I do it all the time! Stupid question. Boring conversation anyway [shoots food journal].

WEDNESDAY
Kielbasa, potato, Brussels sprouts with honey mustard sauce

Wednesday, I somehow managed to forget that I had to make dinner altogether until it was almost five o’clock. This is what’s called “learning moderation.” And that’s what sheet pan meals are for! 

Every time I make this meal, I veer further and further away from a recipe. This time, I preheated the oven to 425 and trimmed and halved three pounds of Brussels sprouts, sliced five pounds of red potatoes (that were mysteriously the same price as yellow potatoes), and three ropes of kielbasa. I spread all the pieces of everything on two big sheet pans, drizzled it with oil, sprinkled it with salt and pepper, and chunked it in the oven for twenty minutes. 

While it was cooking, I mixed up a bunch of honey, some wine vinegar, some salt and pepper, and some stone ground mustard (after floating the idea that stone ground mustard is the boba tea of mustards, which is disgusting but kinda true), and decided I was too lazy to crush up any garlic. When twenty minutes was up, I poured half the sauce over one pan, and then decided I wanted to take a pretty picture in the afternoon light, so I poured on a little more

and then realized I didn’t have enough left for the second pan. So I just drizzled on a bunch of honey and glopped on some mustard and swazzled on some wine vinegar on that one, mixed everything up so it wouldn’t stick, and threw both pans back in the oven, switching the top and bottom pans. Cooked it for another ten minutes or so.

When it came out, I mixed both pans together to even out the sauce situation

Maybe it was the boba mustard or maybe it was the “oops, I forgot to eat today,” but this was a very popular meal, even among husbands who don’t really like kielbasa. 

Wait, that can’t be it, because we had lunch! We had lunch of DUCK EGGS.

That’s right, Wednesday was the second day SOME of our pets started to finally pull their weight around here. 

Not them.

To be fair, I don’t think even I would eat a dog egg. Fox nuts, yes. But I have my limits. 

Gosh, I just talk talk talk. Anyway, our dear lady ducks, the interchangeable Fay and Ray

finally started to lay eggs on Tuesday,

and they did it again on Wednesday  

and again on Thursday

so I guess it’s gonna be a thing! What do you know about that! I was halfway convinced they were either just do-nothing ducks, or else laying secret eggs in the woods somewhere, and we were never going to find them; but they actually just lay them demurely in the hay in the corner of their duck house first thing every morning before breakfast. Amazing. 

On Wednesday, I made fried eggs for lunch for me and Damien. Fresh eggs are always head and shoulders above supermarket eggs. They just cook up better and the whites are fluffier. Duck eggs are like that, and they’re also bigger than chicken eggs, and the yolks are extremely rich. 

I was so proud of the ducks, I gave them some watermelon, which they devoured with great splurting violence. One of these days I will give them some cherries or beets or pomegranates, and I will film it in low light, and I will win a Sam Peckinpah award. 

THURSDAY
Mexican beef bowl again … OR WILL I???

Everybody liked it last time, so I’m a-makin’ it agin. Actually we had leftovers from the steak and cheese subs last week, so I stashed it in the freezer, with the intention of using the power of Worcestershire sauce and lime to thriftily transform it into Mexican beef bowls.

Jump to Recipe

But I took a look at how much meat it is this morning, and, through the magic of not wanting a repeat of Monday, I realized it it’s not as much meat as I thought! Need more. 

So I was dropping the kids off at school and thought I would just quickly nip into the supermarket for a little more beef, so I asked the kids if I could shop dressed the way I was. They said, “With your shirt inside out?” This was news to me, because I thought I only had my skirt on inside out. I then became aware that I also had no shoes on, and also no underwear. FOXNUTS! 

UPDATE: I wrote the above paragraph on Thursday morning. By Thursday afternoon, it was in the 90’s and super humid, more than one person was mad at me (???) because we had to pick up a kid at soccer, and my desire to not cook several different foods had reached a tipping point, so I just got Aldi pizza.

No ragrets.

FRIDAY
Salmon tacos

Regular fish tacos with cheapo fish sticks was the plan, but sometimes having a kid who works at the fish counter pays off, like when they can text you about a flash sale because someone ordered way too much salmon.  So I picked up a big filet and I am going to try Ina Garten’s recipe for roasted salmon tacos, which looks pretty tasty. I have everything but dill, and there are even some cucumbers very ready to be picked from the garden right meow. As soon as I get off the couch. 

Just one duck egg this morning! Maybe somebody had a bad dream. 

Oh, last chance to enter the giveaway for the new Tomie dePaola book

Okay, I really think that’s everything. Going to adoration this afternoon, bringing all yer lousy intentions with me.

Prosciutto arugula pizza

Ingredients

  • oil or butter and flour for pan
  • pizza dough
  • sauce
  • shredded mozzarella
  • olive oil
  • 4-5 garlic cloves, sliced thin
  • rosemary (fresh or dried)
  • prosciutto, torn up
  • arugula
  • fresh lemon juice
  • Freshly grated parmesan cheese

Instructions

  1. Preheat the oven to 450. Grease and flour the pizza pan, stretch the dough over it, pierce it with a fork, spread the sauce, sprinkle the cheese as usual.

  2. Spread the garlic and a little rosemary on the cheese. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, and drizzle with olive oil if you like. Cook as usual.

  3. While it is cooking, make a salad of the arugula, lemon juice, and a little olive oil, plus salt and pepper.

  4. When the pizza comes out, lay the torn-up prosciutto over the top and throw the arugula on top of that. Top with parmesan cheese. Let it sit for a few minutes before slicing, to let the arugula wilt slightly.

 

Beef marinade for fajita bowls

enough for 6-7 lbs of beef

Ingredients

  • 1 cup lime juice
  • 1/3 cup Worcestershire sauce
  • 1/2 cup olive oil
  • 1 head garlic, crushed
  • 2 Tbsp cumin
  • 2 Tbsp chili powder
  • 1 Tbsp paprika
  • 2 tsp hot pepper flakes
  • 1 Tbsp salt
  • 2 tsp pepper
  • 1 bunch cilantro, chopped

Instructions

  1. Mix all ingredients together.

  2. Pour over beef, sliced or unsliced, and marinate several hours. If the meat is sliced, pan fry. If not, cook in a 350 oven, uncovered, for about 40 minutes. I cook the meat in all the marinade and then use the excess as gravy.

Through the Year With Tomie dePaola GIVEAWAY!

Note: I am now an Ignatius Affiliate, and earn money when readers purchase books through my links. 

When Tomie dePaola died a few years ago, I had just recently gotten up the nerve to ask him for an interview, and it’s an everlasting regret that I missed my chance. I don’t know how likely it is that he would have agreed, but he certainly was generous with his work. 

That’s one reason it feels like such a gift to have this new book, published posthumously: Through the Year With Tomie dePaola. Ignatius is sponsoring one copy for me to give away! Read on. 

Through the Year With Tomie dePaola collects the “art mail” he used to send to family and friends (and sometimes post on social media), and it is lovely. 

Each page features one of his bright, fluid illustrations of a saint or other depiction of a holy day, and is decorated with dePaola’s characteristic clouds, stars, leaves, flowers, and doves, and the pictures are accompanied by text written by Catherine Harmon and John Herreid. It feels like a beloved journal or sketchbook by someone in love with celebration of the liturgical year.

There is not an entry for every single day, but each month features between eight and fourteen little pictures and passages, and each month also ends with a list of “other important feast days.”

Some are well known

some are more obscure

some include prayers

a few are specifically American, while still staying grounded in the faith

and a few include history lessons, and are also just cute

It is a small, solid hardcover that comes with a ribbon bookmark, so you can keep your spot and dip into it as you move through the calendar. 

This book would be an easy enrichment for evening prayers, or would be a pleasant way to start the day with little ones. It would make an appealing baptism or first Communion gift (or confirmation gift, depending on how old kids are when your diocese confirms them). The reading level makes it completely appropriate for older kids, maybe through age 12 or even older, but they may look at the cover and think it’s aimed at younger kids. I would not hesitate to make it part of family prayers, though, even if you don’t have younger kids in the house, because dePaola’s art is for everybody.

AND NOW THE GIVEAWAY! Just leave a comment on this post and I will use a random number generator to chose a winner in a few days. U.S. and Canada only, please. And please o please be sure that the email you use when you comment on this site is a real email address! I will be using it to contact you if you win. If the winner is “nicetryfeds@biteme.edu” then you won’t get your lovely book. 

If you just want to buy the book, which is $18.99, you can order it here. Go ahead! I get a commission! Mama needs a new set of teeth. 

This is the second book that John Herried has produced, and I’m delighted to see him using his considerable creative powers in this direction. If you haven’t yet checked out his Catholic Home Gallery, also from Ignatius, do take a look! It’s an excellent collection of contemporary Catholic artwork in all different styles, and the book is designed so you can pull the prints right out and hang them in your home. I interviewed John about it here

And thank you to Ignatius for sponsoring this giveaway!

What’s for supper? Vol. 342: Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Barely even human

Happy Friday! Full disclosure, this is the second time I’ve used this title. I was pretty sure I had used it before, so I Googled it, and sure enough: Vol. 183, and it was August 30. So that makes me feel a little better about having served sandwiches all week long this week. This is clearly the time of year when that’s just the thing to do. 

The funny thing is, I didn’t even notice that’s what I was doing until about Thursday. This is partially because my beloved menu blackboard kicked the bucket

I knew it was useful, but I didn’t realize until it was gone that I consult that thing about forty times a day, because if you know what’s for supper, at least you know one damn thing. 

Anyway, I finally got around to making a replacement. I bought some finished wooden planks already stuck together and mounted with a little hook in back at Walmart for like $4, and then I added a line and the names of the week with hot glue.

Here I would like to point out that I could find two hot glue guns. One was full sized, and the part where the glue goes in was misaligned so it doesn’t actually heat up; and one was mini and low temp, and the trigger was broken, so you have to continually push on the end of the glue stick to feed it into the gun. Also I have a chronic hand tremor that gets worse when I try to concentrate. I was aiming for “basically legible,” and I think I nailed it. 

So I went outside with this marvelous piece and a can of chalkboard spray paint, and when I started spraying, the ducks all came over to see what I was doing. I can tell who is EJ and who is Coin, but Fay and Ray are indistinguishable to me, and there I was with a full can of spray paint. I was tempted for a minute, but I pulled myself together, because sometimes you have to remind yourself that you’re at least theoretically smarter than a duck and you should act accordingly. 

I let the thing dry in the sun for a while, peeled the hot glue off, and here it is:

Perfectly fine. I touched up the thready parts with chalk, and it seems to work just as I hoped. The chalk does not wipe away easily with a fingertip, like it would with a slate blackboard, but you can wipe it away with a damp cloth. 

Oh, the “+cheese” is not a blessing from His Eminence, Bishop Cheese. It’s a nod to the time I got to the supermarket and discovered that Damien had added “and cheese” to every single item on my list. Makes me laugh every time I think of it. Marriage is about communication! And cheese!

Okay, so here’s the sandwiches we ate this week:

SATURDAY
Buffalo chicken wraps

Damien and I did a quick getaway on Friday night, and got home Saturday pretty zonked, so I just did a quick shopping for just one meal. Flour tortillas, buffalo chicken (from frozen), spinach or maybe lettuce, shredded pepper jack cheese, and I think ranch dressing. 

Frozen buffalo chicken is always about 40% more expensive than it should be (it’s just chicken tenders sloshed around in hot sauce), but I bit the bullet and got three bags, and it was a nice easy meal. 

The little trip we went on was so nice! We rented a spot through HipCamp, which is like AirBnB just for camping, but by “camping” they mean everything from a spot to pitch your tent, to an RV, to a cabin, to a yurt, to what we got, which was a tent with beds in it on a platform, with a kitchenette, camp toilet and camp shower, and a little yard with a hammock and outdoor couch under a tarp with string lights, etc. 

Here is my view from the hammock on Friday evening, where I lounged under mosquito netting while Damien prepared dinner:

And here is the dinner he made:

Baguettes and garlic butter, strawberries and cheeses, and some truly excellent grilled steaks. He also got gelato, but we were too full to eat it. 

And here I am lounging some more the next day:

trying to figure out what bird it was that I heard at 5 a.m. in the yard. Pretty sure it was some kind of owl. (If it had been saying “who cooks for you?” I would have known it was an owl, and I would have said “my husband!” but it was just going “Ohhhhhhhhh!” in a tragic way; but I think it was still an owl.)

Anyway, this stay was cheaper than a cheap hotel and I loved it. Gonna be obnoxious and mention that you can get $10 off your next HipCamp stay, and I will also earn a $10 credit, if you use this code: 

hipcamp.com/i/simchaf

OR, if you want to become a host on your own land through HipCamp, use that same code and we both get $100 cash after you host your first guests.

We (okay I) briefly considered the fact that we Fisher own land, a full 1.25 acres of really quite beautiful property and could probably . . . . . . . . 

. . . . . . mmmm, nah. 

Anyway, we packed up our stuff (and checkout was at NOON, which felt quite luxurious) and drove to Spofford Lake, which has a tiny little island in it, which is NH’s smallest state park.

We paddled over in our kayaks and landed, walked all the way around the island and checked out its mushrooms and such, and then paddled back under a blue, blue, blue sky, and then drove to a place we’ve been driving past for decades, but never stopped into: Stuart and John’s Sugar House in Westmoreland. Damien and I are not big breakfast people these days, but we decided to go ahead and carb it up, so he had pancakes and I had waffles, and they were great. This place also has a dairy farm and a sunflower farm. We’re gonna go back on Labor Day weekend with the kids (the island and the farm). Just overall a lovely little time away. (More pictures here if you want to take a look.)

Oh, this is my pitch for you to look on Craigslist or FB marketplace for a kayak or two! If you live anywhere near a body of water, a kayak is a wonderful thing to have. You can definitely get better at using a kayak, but you can be competent at kayaking in about three minutes. It’s much easier than canoeing, and people are selling kayaks for about $100 all the time, at least around here. You don’t have to do anything in a kayak. Just get out on the water and bob around for a while, and then go home again. I got the book Quiet Water for NH and VT, but there are several editions for different regions, and will tell you where to go for easy kayak and canoe trips. Good stuff. 

Saturday I also started this stupid pie that I saw a recipe for and decided I needed to make, for some reason. More about that in a bit. 

SUNDAY
Sandwiches and strawberry pretzel icebox pie

Sunday was the last day when everyone was on vacation. Some kids started school on Monday, some started Tuesday, and some started Wednesday, and I had been promising Benny we would do the “stay at the beach as long as you want and eat a meal and a lot of candy there” thing, so Sunday was our last possible day. And we did it! 

First of course we went to Mass, and I had to go do the rest of the shopping, and it rained the first part of the day, but then the sun came out and we got there. 

“As long as they wanted” turned out to be about three hours. We had chips and sandwiches, soda and of course candy. 

And that was summer vacation. Fastest one ever, oh me oh my.

Oh, so when we got home we had this strawberry pretzel icebox pie. I’m only linking to it so you can know what recipe not to make. It was fine, and everybody liked it, it turns out I, a New England innocent, got suckered into making some insanely fancy-pants, labor intensive version of what is supposed to be a simple, quick, Midwestern potluck recipe you can throw together in a few minutes. 

Here I am, ladling unflavored gelatin mixed with fresh strawberry puree over strawberry slices arranged on a layer of cream cheese and whipped heavy cream, which rests on a crust made of pretzels, butter, malted milk powder, and brown sugar.

It has you putting things in and out of the oven and in and out of the freezer more than once. Like I said, it was good, but in retrospect, you can get nearly the same effect with Kool Whip, strawberry Jello, and pretzels. 

Also, I effed up the crust, because I was low on a few ingredients and had to make a 1.5X recipe, rather than a double recipe, and guess what happens when I try to do that in my head when I’m still exhausted from camping and kayaking and going to the beach! You are correct, I eff up the crust. Oh well! Everyone liked it. 

MONDAY
Chicken caprese burgers and corn on the cob

Nothing to report. 

I knew people were going to be a little down about school starting, so my goal was to make popular meals all week. 

Monday was just the first day for the two Catholic high school kids, and Benny and Corrie were still off; so we fulfilled another summer promise: BARBIE MOVIE. It was pretty good. I felt they could have easily cut 25 minutes out and ditched the narrator and it would have been stronger, but I liked it fine. The kids liked it. That’s my entire review. 

TUESDAY
Steak and cheese subs, store brand Funyuns

Tuesday was the first day for the public school high schooler, and for the college guy (he is commuting, and living at home this year to save money). I also had my echocardiogram, finally, basically just to check all the boxes, even though most of my symptoms have passed by now. I think I had . . . secret Covid + unmanaged high blood pressure + anxiety + ???. But my heart looks fine! And it was super fun to watch it popping away like a little teapot for half an hour on the screen while the tech checked everything out. I guess your heart actually has its own internal pacemaker, and actually makes itself beat, which is exactly what it looks like it’s doing.  It was lovely to see.  Good old heart. You love to see something just . . . doing what it’s made to do. 

Anyway, I celebrated with steak and cheese.

I had an big old eye round roast, which I sliced thinly and pan fried in oil with salt and pepper, along with sliced bell peppers and onions. 

I toasted the roll lightly, then spread it with mayo, then piled on the meat and veggies, and then put some American cheese on top and toasted it again. Freaking delicious. 

WEDNESDAY
Vermonter sandwiches, watermelon

Wednesday the final two kids started school, and we had yet another sandwich: The much-appreciated Vermonter, which is roast chicken (or turkey), bacon, green apple slices, sharp cheddar, and honey mustard on sourdough (or ciabatta). 

I have tried various methods for cutting up a large number of apples for this ssandwich, and there’s no good way of doing it quickly. I have one of those hand-cranked apple peeler-cutter-corer things,

which definitely makes it go fast, and it’s great for pies or cobbler, but it cuts the apples thinner than I want for this sandwich, and it peels them, and for this I prefer the peels on. I have used a pineapple cutting device, but apples are so small that by the time you get it situated and turn the crank, you’re through and need to set up the next one, so it doesn’t save you much work. So I just sliced the apples up and then cut the core bits out with a sharp knife, feeling very put-upon the whole time, even though, like most things in my life, it was my idea.

(I kept them from getting brown before dinner time by putting them in water with a little lime juice sloshed in.) 

We were supposed to have broccoli on the side, but it had gone bad, so I cut up a watermelon.  

Just an excellent sandwich.

THURSDAY
Chicken, spinach, jalapeño quesadillas, chips and salsa

On Thursday, the novelty of school had worn off and certain people decided that getting up in the morning two days in a row was absolute bullshit and they just didn’t want to do it. (I am not talking about myself here. I knew it was bullshit from day one.) Nevertheless, we got there on time (we make five stops in the morning this year! Five!!!!) and nobody died.

I had a little extra time (by which I mean I was avoiding writing), so I pan-fried the chicken thighs in oil with lots of Tajin seasoning

and then shredded them. 

I asked Corrie to be the waitress and take orders for dinner,

and this was when the penny dropped that the German word for cheese (Käse) is basically the same as the Spanish word (queso).  I don’t know why I found that so amazing, but I guess I just never thought about it before. 

(“Kasadea” is presumably Esperanto, but it gets the job done.)

Oh, here is my quesadilla:

Not strictly a sandwich, but not entirely not, either. 

FRIDAY
Bagel, egg, and cheese sandwiches

This was the plan, but one of my kids now works at the co-op, and she tipped me off that oysters are going to be 99 cents today, AND I happened to spill a can of seltzer directly into my purse (uhhhh some time ago, which is why the check I paid for lunch pizza with smelled kinda funky, sorry Nicole) and finally got around to cleaning it out last night, and I found a gift card to the co-op! So I think we are having bagel sandwiches for those who don’t like oysters, and then oysters and whatever else is on sale at the co-op for those who do. 

In other news, ladies, if you have been taking 200 mg of progesterone two weeks out of the month to help even out your mood swings with PMS, and you feel like it’s probably not doing that much, and you forget to take them, and then you suddenly decide that you built this patio with your own two hands so you could sit in the SUN and whose idea was it to have this FREAKNG AWNING UP ALL SUMMER, and you do this?

Maybe take your progesterone. It may be helping more than you realize.

P.S. Having an awning up was my idea. 

P.P.S. I also take Prozac, but it turns out Prozac + progesterone is the magic combination. Just telling you in case you, too, have been a little rampagy. I also decided Old Crow Medicine Show should be deported, and absolutely refused to compost anything this week. Also spilled some coffee and just kept walking. Insanely rebellious behavior, out of control. Somebody make me a sandwich.