Tag: lent

What’s for supper? Vol. 419: A masterful gambit of one’s own

Happy Friday! What’s new with you? I’m making notes on how to build a tree house, and now I know what a lag bolt is! I’m carving a sleeping bat, that’s not turning out very well! I’m driving around town surreptitiously taking photos of people’s porticos, so I can figure out how to do ours, or maybe I’m just being creepy!

We started a second batch of duck eggs incubating and Damien and I both think we see something happening this time. Duck shells are pretty thick, so it’s hard to say, but Coin has literally one job and we’ve definitely all seen him doing it (ducks are not known for their romantic finesse), so I do believe we’ll have ducklings eventually. 

Until then, here’s what we ate this week: 

SATURDAY
Taquitos, quesadillas

It was Saturday Leftover Buffet, but last week was already half leftovers built into the menu, so we didn’t have a lot to draw on. I got some frozen taquitos and made some quesadillas, and that was that. 

SUNDAY
Mexican beef bowls, corn bread, tres leches cake

Sunday was Lena’s birthday! She requested Mexican beef bowl, and I was happy to oblige, because it is yummy. I sliced up the meat and got it marinating in the morning (I used London Broil, but this marinade is pretty acidic, so it should tenderize some pretty tough cuts if you give it long enough). Here is that recipe:

Jump to Recipe

Made a big pot of rice, blackened some corn, shredded some cheese, chopped some cilantro, and fried up some sweet red peppers, and we had it with sour cream and lime wedges, and black beans. 

Frickin delicious.

Here is my basic bean recipe:

Jump to Recipe

I had two cans of black beans from Aldi. One turned out to be a dirty dirty lie!!  But I didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to save the can, so I guess I’ll miss out on their “twice as nice” guarantee, alas. I always make too many beans anyway, so we had plenty. 

I also made a pan of corn bread, which is probably what made me forget to serve the corn chips I got. I just followed the cornbread recipe on the cornmeal package

It was fine. I used to make corn bread CONSTANTLY, but I think mostly just Damien and I eat it, so I don’t usually bother. 

For dessert, we had a tres leches cake – or a collection of them, really, employing I don’t even know how many milks altogether. Damien and I have apparently been dealing with stress by buying half and half and also requesting that each other pick up some half and half, so we had your three milks right here:

except that this recipe doesn’t even use half and half; it uses condensed milk, evaporated milk, milk, and heavy cream. Which is four milks, tres notwithstanding. To add to the confusion, Corrie’s class baked bread and made butter at school, and she brought home some of the butter in a sandwich bag, and proceeded to extrude and devour it all the way home. We’ve been tussling over her lunches lately, and she finally wore me down enough to acknowledge that a small container of Greek yogurt does, in fact, have quite a bit of protein for a kid; and from there, she concluded that Good Ol’ Cousin Butter must be even healthier than yogurt, because it’s even thicker! I started to argue with her, but quickly realized that I don’t really know what protein is. But I’m fairly sure she’s eating the yogurt, and not just bringing it to school and throwing it away. So that’s a win. She could absolutely beat me in a wrestling match, so maybe I shouldn’t be pushing protein anyway. 

The only other time I made tres leches cake, it was extremely soggy, so this time I tried Pioneer Woman’s recipe. I made it the night before, and ended up sort of draining a lot of liquid off in the morning and then continuing to refrigerate it until evening. Then I topped it with the sweetened whipped cream and berries. It was good!

I guess this is just never gonna be my favorite cake, but this time was a vast improvement over last, anyway. It wasn’t screamingly sweet, and the cake part was very moist but not disintiningratingly wet. 

And Lena liked it, which is the main thing. 

Whew! 

MONDAY
Quiche, onion soup

Monday, I really did use some of that half and half, and also a bunch of the eggs the ducks have started reliably laying. And so it was quiche day! Quiche is something else I used to make all the time, until we got pretty burnt out on it. But it was a chilly, drizzly day, and it SNOWED, and oh boy, a sunny, fragrant wedge of oven-fresh quiche really hit the spot.

I opted for pre-baked pie shells, and I made one quiche with diced ham and provolone (left over from last week’s chicken cutlets), and one with crumbled sausage and, feeling a little silly while I did it, some sliced-up Baby Bel cheese, which is apparently approximately fontina. (It was breakfast-style sausage, and that was the mildest cheese we had in the house.) I added salt and pepper and some parsley on top to both, and they turned out gorgeous. 

I realized I’ve been over-baking quiche most of my life, so I didn’t do that this time! I just baked them until they were just set. 

Here is my recipe

Jump to Recipe

and if you can find fresh eggs, it really does make a difference. Look how fluffy:

I also made some onion soup. We still had some Italian bread from something or other, so I cut that into large hunks and toasted it. I forgot I had a recipe for onion soup, so I wung it, but here is the basic recipe:

Jump to Recipe

I only had chicken broth, not beef, and I really prefer beef, but it was still pretty great. I like it with lots of pepper, and I really don’t like the thick crust of melted cheese on top that French onion soup is supposed to have, so I just served some freshly-grated parmesan on top. Big crouton, a few scoops of hot soup, and then the cheese. Did I mention it was a chilly, damp day, and have I mentioned how I feel about soup?

Delightful. I was surprised at how popular the soup was, although I did cook the onions for a long time, so they were sweet and friendly; and I did also add sugar. 

TUESDAY
Honey mustard chicken, buffalo chicken, pasta salad, vegetables and dip

I think it was Tuesday that I finally got my car back. It needed an alternator, a transmission fluid hose, and a serpentine belt, so I was happy to have all that stuff done before I got stranded somewhere. Less happy to have to force myself to admit that, as soon as I got the car back, it started making a brand new sound. Fiddle dee dee. So I spent about 24 hours in denial and then brought the poor old thing back to the mechanic. And yes this makes the third time in 4-5 weeks I’ve had to bring it in. It’s still a good car. It is trying, I can tell. 

In the morning I roasted a bunch of chicken drumsticks in oil, salt and pepper, and then while they were hot, I divided them and rolled half in honey mustard sauce and half in buffalo sauce. The honey mustard was half honey, half mustard, with the juice of a whole lemon, and some pepper; and the buffalo sauce was melted butter, a bunch of that Valentina hot sauce, and a bunch of paprika and garlic powder. 

Then I made a big pot of pasta salad, which, and I guess this is the theme for the week, I used to make constantly, but haven’t made in quite a while. It was a real odds-and-ends salad from things I found in the cabinet: Pasta with red wine vinegar and olive oil, quite a bit of salt and pepper, garlic powder (rather than fresh, because I wanted it to cling to the pasta), and . . . let’s see. Black olives, marinated peppers, shredded parmesan, and then some things I got specifically for the salad: fresh parsley and the effusively-named “Wild Wonders” selection of multicolored cherry tomatoes. 

I tend to under-season pasta salad, so I really went nuts with the seasonings, and it was good.

Chopped up a bunch of vegetables, and when it got close to dinner, I re-heated the two pans of drumsticks.

Nice little meal, although I wish I had saved out some of the sauces to juice up the flavor a bit toward the end of reheating. 

I have been eating so many vegetables this week, it’s grotesque. (Mostly for lunch and snacks, in case you’re scrolling up and thinking, “THIS is what she considers a lot of vegetables??)

WEDNESDAY
Ham, peas, mashed potatoes

Wednesday we had the rest of the ham I had already cut into for the quiche. Wednesday is already always a little bananas, because we have STEM club and catechism after school, but everything is spaced out in such a way that I essentially have to circle the globe a few times in order to get everyone where they need to be. This week they added swimming lessons, so I also went to the Y, and I was a little frazzled, but seeing all those chipper, dripping little ten-year-olds stomping around in the locker room made up for a lot. 

The ham was pre-cooked, so I cut it into thick slices, put it in a pan, added a little water, and covered it with tinfoil, and shoved that in the oven in between trips, and when I got home, I made a giant bowl of instant mashed potatoes and heated up some frozen peas. It’s not sophisticated, but it’s an immensely satisfying meal. For best effect, garnish generously with extra tinfoil so it’s easy to wash the pan. 

THURSDAY
Chicken burgers, chips, raw vegetables

Thursday, for reasons I don’t understand, I scheduled . . . everything. I had a doctor’s appointment in the morning, and then in the afternoon we had one of the most frustrating and unprofessional meetings I’ve had the displeasure of fuming through in many a year, and then in the evening was something I can only describe as a surprise science fair. I don’t know why they do these things to us. It can’t possibly be that they sent me several emails, pamphlets, and Class Dojo notifications, and I just ignored them. I also woke up at 3:30 a.m. and didn’t get back to sleep until after 6, and then my alarm goes off at 6:40, so by evening, in clinical terms, my ass was draggin. 

For her contribution, Benny threw together a game of Astronomy Jeopardy to test the wits of the elementary school kids, and it turns out there are two secrets to a successful science project: (a) a very loud button kids can press, and (b) Benny. 

I didn’t get a picture of later in the evening, when her male classmates came around to be questioned, and she made them put their hands behind their backs, kneel on the floor, and hit the buttons with their heads. I don’t know why she did this, but I believe they would kill a man if Benny told them to. 

So I texted the kids to heat up some chicken burgers, and Benny and I had a slice of cold science fair pizza and went home to do evening chores, and I was feeling a little bit like I wanted a treat, and I suddenly thought maybe there was a stray Italian ice in the freezer! I rummaged around and, to my delight, way in the back behind some bagged corn and elderly fudge, I found one!!

No I didn’t. 

So I had some dried mango and shuffled off to take a shower. Emerged to find that Damien had changed the sheets and made the bed and turned on my little lamp, so I put on my fuzzy pants and put myself to bed at 9:30. Pretty nice. 

FRIDAY
Spaghetti

Friday Damien and Benny got up super early to get the . . . remote control submarine contest at UNH? I’m a little fuzzy on the details. This has been my experience as a woman in STEM my whole life: ” . . . Wha?” But as I said, Damien took the hit and they’re there now. I myself went and got some fasting blood work done, meaning I had to get the kids to school, go to the doctor, and THEN get coffee. No one has ever suffered more. 

Will we get to stations of the cross at the church tonight? PROBABLY NOT. We did do it at home last week, and maybe we can do that again. I found this text written by Cardinal Ratzinger, and it’s so much more thoughtful and less goopy than any other stations I’ve found. I mean it’s no “Simcha has to drive to school without coffee,” but pretty good. 

And that’s-a my story. 

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Simple French onion soup

Serve with a piece of toasted baguette at the bottom of each bowl. Finish with cheese on top.

Ingredients

  • 4 Tbsp butter
  • 4 cups onion, thinly sliced
  • 1 Tbsp flour
  • 1 tsp white sugar
  • 4-6 cups beef broth (can also use chicken broth or a combination of water and white wine)
  • pepper
  • parmesan or mozzarella cheese

Instructions

  1. In a heavy pot, melt the butter and then add the onions. Cook very slowly over a low heat for about an hour, stirring occasionally, until the onions are very soft and somewhat darkened.

  2. Stir in the sugar until dissolved. Stir in the flour and mix to coat.

  3. Add the broth (or water and wine). Add pepper to taste and simmer for at least 30 minutes, preferably longer.

  4. Serve with a hunk of toasted bread in the bottom of each bowl. Sprinkle cheese on top, and if you have oven-safe dishes, brown under the broiler to form a skin on top of the soup.

 

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Quiche

Ingredients

  • 2 pie shells
  • 8 duck eggs (equivalent of 10-12 chicken eggs)
  • 2 cups half and half
  • salt and pepper
  • 1/4-1/2 cup meat/vegetables
  • 1/4-1/2 cup shredded cheese
  • chopped parsley (optional)

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven to 400

  2. Poke shell with fork several times and bake on a shallow pan for 12 minutes or until slightly browned

  3. Remove pie shells and lower oven to 350

  4. Beat eggs and then beat in half and half, salt and pepper

  5. Sprinkle vegetables and/or meat on pie shell, then sprinkle on cheese. Pour egg mixture on top. Top with extra cheese and/or parsley if you like.

  6. Put the quiches in the oven, still on the pan, and bake, uncovered for about forty minutes until the middle is just set, not wobbly

  7. Serve hot or room temperature.

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Instant Pot black beans

Ingredients

  • 2 tsp olive oil
  • 1 onion, diced
  • 6-8 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 16-oz cans black beans with liquid
  • 1/2 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
  • 1 Tbsp cumin
  • 1-1/2 tsp salt
  • pepper to taste

Instructions

  1. Put olive oil pot of Instant Pot. Press "saute" button. Add diced onion and minced garlic. Saute, stirring, for a few minutes until onion is soft. Press "cancel."

  2. Add beans with liquid. Add cumin, salt, and cilantro. Stir to combine. Close the lid, close the vent, and press "slow cook."

 

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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.

The princess and the fig tree

Halfway through Lent, we heard the Gospel reading where Jesus tells his disciples twice, in fairly stark and violent terms: If you do not repent, you will perish.

Then he tells them a story: “There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard, and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none, he said to the gardener, ‘For three years now, I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none. So cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil?’

He said to him in reply, ‘Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not, you can cut it down.’”

If the fig tree (you and me) isn’t just failing to bear fruit; it’s exhausting the soil around it. It’s hurting the other trees and crops nearby by taking without giving back. It should be destroyed, says the owner of the garden.

The gardener (Jesus) agrees that the fig tree shouldn’t be allowed to go on this way. It must bear fruit—repent—or it should perish. But note something extremely important: he doesn’t just insist that it should repent. He doesn’t even just give it extra time to repent. He comes and helps it. He gives it what it needs so it can, if it will, turn things around before it’s too late.

This reading dovetails so nicely with a short book I recently re-read: The Lost Princess by George MacDonald. It’s not as well-known as his excellent longer “princess” books, the two Curdie books or The Light Princess, but I think it deserves more attention than it gets.

To summarize without spoilers: Two young girls are raised by disastrously indulgent parents. One girl, Rosamond, is a princess, who has become monstrously selfish and capricious, terrorising the whole household. The king and queen are at their wits’ end with their daughter’s violent temper, so they summon a wise woman to help them. She abducts Rosamond and takes her on a brutal journey of self-knowledge and self-control, with many trials and many failures.

Then we are introduced to the second girl, the daughter of a shepherd and his wife, who isn’t openly monstrous, but she is so profoundly self-satisfied, she doesn’t really believe anyone else is real. She, too, is taken in by the wise woman for cultivation, and at some point, the shepherd girl and the princess switch roles, with varying consequences. At the end, both girls are returned to their homes to live the lives they have chosen.

The story, being Victorian, is pretty openly preachy. The narrator frequently delivers little lessons about life directly to the reader, which was the style at the time. But if you think of it as a sermon with a compelling and entertaining story, rather than a story that preaches at you, it’s wonderful, and harrowing in the best way—and don’t get me wrong; the fiction stands up on its own and isn’t solely a vehicle for a message. It has some scenes and some imagery that have stayed with me for 40 years or longer, and that have not lost any of their power when I read again it last week.

One such scene … Read the rest of my latest for The Catholic Weekly. 

Image: Detail of painting by Julie Le Brun (1780–1819) Looking in a Mirror (1787) via Rawpixel (Creative Commons) 

What’s for supper? Vol. 415: O bagels! O fortuna!

And a happy Friday to you! It was all fortuna, no tuna, this week. Just now I changed out of my pajama pants into my yoga pants, and I’m working in bed. I am grounded for the day because Damien got up revoltingly early to drive the girls to the train station, whence they (including Damien) are headed into NYC to see famous J-Hope’s famous solo concert; and they are spending the night. But while we were on our way to school, the universe, sensing that my husband was out of town, playfully lit up all the lights on my dashboard 

I’m no expert, but I interpreted this as “turn around and go home,” so I tried to, but the car started losing power, so I turned on the hazards and tried to go to the mechanic, but it died at the fence company which is just down the road from the mechanic and also from our house and which, in fact, GPS claims IS our house. Like Instacart will send groceries there and everything, unless I make a really big fuss.

So Damien called AAA from the train in NY and I called Elijah at home, who is driving Damien’s car because his car is broken and Damien drove Sophia’s car to the train station, and I emailed the schools and said we were having a Fisher Flop-out, and I begged for an adoration substitute, and eventually everyone got where they belonged, but not before I vented a little emotion at the poor tow truck driver, and expressed how frustrating it was to break down so close to the mechanic. I said I considered pushing my car, but seeing as it was uphill, I didn’t think I would make it; and he said, and I quote, “Pawbly nawt.” 

But I’m on a gratitude kick lately, so I thanked God that I had remembered my phone (which I forget about half the time), that it wasn’t horribly cold out, that we had AAA, and that Elijah was home so he could rescue us, and that I had decided to change out of my robe and into a jacket this morning, so when the fence guy came out to find out why we were parked there, I only looked like a partial nutcase. (On the fact that I was still wearing my fuzzy pink flowered pajama pants, I was prayerfully nuetral.)

Anyway, poor old lady. Off she goes. 

It may be the alternator. But it may just be the battery! Pawbly it’s the battery. 

Well, here’s what we ate this week. And please note, we’re not really great at eating simply and frugally for Lent. We have other skills, like accumulating cars. We now have six cars parked in front of the house most days, and you’d think that would mean we always have a way to get where we need to be!

AND YET. 

SATURDAY
Lasagna, cannoli dip

On Friday night, Damien made a stupendous lasagna, following this labor intensive but incredibly rewarding recipe from Deadspin. Look at this gorgeous beast. 

He also made a mini lasagna for Millie. 

(It’s not actually as tiny as it looks here!) The lasagna was a delayed birthday dinner for Elijah. SO GOOD. 

and let me tell you, I made an attempt to calculate the calories for this thing, but my phone started shaking and sweating, so I just called it a day. 

Eljah requested cannoli for dessert. Actually he requested Cosmic Brownies, but I said he could aim a little higher for his 21st birthday dessert. (Recall he had a cake last week, on his actual birthday.) Then I couldn’t find cannoli shells anywhere in town, so I got cannoli chips, ricotta cheese, AND cosmic brownies. (This is important later.)

I blended together what cream cheese I could find, a bunch of ricotta, a bunch of powdered sugar, and some almond extract, and served that in ramekins with the cannoli chips, along with maraschino cherries and rainbow sprinkles. I swear I took a picture, because I arranged it nice and fancy-like, but it has vanished. 

SUNDAY
Leftovers featuring lasagna; taquitos 

Sunday we had probably half the lasagna still left over, so that was the star of the show. I also bought frozen taquitos and the served a few leftovers, but mainly we were all there for Lasagna, Continued. 

I brought Millie’s lasagna over and she gave me a bowl of bread pudding with raisins in it.

It tasted exactly like the bread pudding my mother used to make, and I haven’t tasted it since I was a kid. This gave Millie much delight, and me too! It happens that this is a few days after the fourth anniversary of my mother’s death, so if you think of it, please send up a prayer for her. With raisins!

In the afternoon, on a whim, I decided to make bagels. I have only tried making bagels once before, and I grievously misread how much water to use when boiling them, so they turned out pretty rough. But I did get from that day one of my favorite pictures ever: 

Just . . . look at us. The chair with the back broken off. The laundry basket full of pots and pans. Something that appears to be an inflatable foil rocket on the floor. And the toddler who is having the BEST DAY OF HER LIFE, AGAIN. It just needs a chunky couple making out in the corner and a dog furtively lapping out of a mug of beer, and it could be one of those Flemish peasant paintings where people are doing whatever the hell they want. 

This batch of bagels, we didn’t have QUITE that much fun with, but they turned out somewhat better. We followed the King Arthur Baking recipe, except I had light brown sugar instead of dark. You make the dough, let it rise for 90 minutes, cut it into lumps, 

let those lumps rest for half an hour,

and then shape the bagels and boil them,

add toppings, and then bake them.

Benny helped me shape the bagels, which you do by rolling the dough into a ball, poking your finger through the center, and then twirling them around in the air. We quickly learned that it is possible to twirl them too long, and/or too violently! Luckily, the floor is spotless. Just kidding, we threw that one away.

We made a double recipe and made sixteen (well, fifteen) bagels, poppy seed, sesame seed, plain, and salt. 

They were not as puffy as I would have liked — hard to imagine slicing these to make a sandwich! —

— but still pretty great piping hot from the oven. I love doing a little baking on a Sunday afternoon.

You can see they were fairly flat, but the texture inside and out was great, and everybody liked them and said I should make them again. Not sure how to make them puffier. Any ideas? 

MONDAY
Kielbasa, potato, brussels sprouts sheet pan dinner, oatmeal bread

For supper, we had an easy peasy one pan dish with red potatoes, brussels sprouts, and kielbasa. I cooked it halfway, then drizzled it with a sauce made of honey, mustard, minced garlic, and red wine vinegar, and finished cooking it. This is two pans’ worth heaped into one pan:

This looks faintly Flemish, too, come to think of it. 

I usually just serve one-pan dish on its own, but for some reason I felt it really needed a side dish, so I made this quick oat bread, which I chose because it was simple, but which you could make if you’re looking for gluten-free recipes (it uses ground-up oats instead of flour). It was . . . fine. 

I undercooked it (the missing chunk in the middle is where I cut a piece to see if it was done), but for some reason decided to finish it in the microwave instead of the oven., which . . . worked . . . but there is a reason people don’t do that. But I don’t know how much better it would have been if I had baked it properly. Pawbly would have been decent with some butter or jam on it. 

Honestly, I look back on this week and it’s like watching an old home movie, and you watch your past self careening around and you’re like, “oh, wow, look how crazy and silly we were back then!” Except this was four days ago. I’m not complaining! It’s been so beautiful out, with a thaw every day, and I’ve been getting fresh air and feeling pretty lighthearted, actually.

But I’m not being . . . streamlined, in my activities. Not streamlined at all. 

Anyway, you really can’t argue with hot fresh bread, and it was a decent meal. 

Monday is also the day we discovered we had several desserts in the house. See, usually we have dessert on Saturday and Sunday, but in Lent, we just have it on Sunday, and spend the extra money bumping up the food pantry donation. But we got confused and bought two desserts for the weekend, and then we realized Elijah needed a birthday dessert, and then I also bought those previously mentioned Cosmic Brownies as a birthday bonus. And then we forgot to eat them. So there we were on a Monday with Klondike Bars, some kind of ice cream things, and Cosmic Brownies in the house, in Lent. 

So I told the kids if they could come up with a liturgically plausible reason, we could just eat it anyway. So Lucy looked up some saint that starts with a C, I forget who, and then they ate Klondike Bars. It’s called the Domestic Liturgical Living and it has ice cream in it. 

TUESDAY
Vermonter sandwiches, fries

Everybody likes Vermonter sandwiches! Roast chicken breast, thick slices of sharp cheddar cheese, sliced green apple, bacon, and honey mustard dressing. The kids like this on ciabatta rolls, but they didn’t have any, so we had sourdough bread. You can see I was in a bit of a hurry because I was so hungry, so I kind of clobbered mine together, and also skimped on the honey mustard, sadly.

A tasty freaking sandwich. 

Then, incredibly enough, it was St. Seraphina’s day or something. Here is Benny, making the case. 

So obviously they had ice cream cones. 

WEDNESDAY
Gochujang pork ribs, rice, sesame broccoli 

I knew Wednesday was going to be a busy day, so I actually got those pork ribs marinating on Tuesday; and then in the morning on Wednesday I cut up the broccoli and set up the rice in the Instant Pot. So Wednesday afternoon, I got home late and just pushed the rice button, started the ribs roasting, and threw the broccoli in the oven right at the end, and everything finished cooking at the same time. Just about every other single thing in my life is out of control, but gosh darn it, I know how to plan a meal. 

The ribs were marinated in gochujang, honey, brown sugar (why both? I forget), roughly chopped garlic, and soy sauce. The broccoli was soy sauce, sesame oil, and sesame seeds. Good freaking meal. 

Wednesday evening, Irene pointed out it was the one-week anniversary of Ash Wednesday, so we had Cosmic Brownies. Listen. It’s a fine balance. 

THURSDAY
Grilled ham and cheese, chips, raw veg

Thursday I took Millie to the eye doctor and the DMV so she could get her license renewed. She is 92 and not the worst driver I’ve encountered, not by a long shot. The worst driver I’ve encountered is from Massachusetts. Really just anyone from Massachusetts. 

I had made some kind of mistake when buying bread, and we only had a little sourdough, so I made half the sandwiches with sourdough and half with regular sandwich bread, and then also I used pre-sliced Aldi provolone, forgetting that that ish just does. not. melt.

So they were not the world’s greatest sandwiches, but friend-os, when you are counting calories and it is dinner time, even the worlds not-greatest sandwich tastes pretty freaking good. Also, pickles don’t count. Have some pickles!

I also made a big vegetable platter which I don’t think anyone even touched. 

It looks pretty good to me right now, though. Do I recommend processing a bunch of food photos on a Friday in Lent? Not really! Well, it depends what your goals are, I guess. 

Thursday night I more or less finished a captive ball carving. I didn’t make measurements or anything, but just winged it, so the “ball” is pretty blobby-shaped, but the kids were impressed anyway. It makes a pleasant “slock-slock” noise when it slides back and forth. I cut myself three times and had to sand a blood stain off part of it, so you could say the whole carving thing is going pretty well. 

FRIDAY
Pancakes? 

Damien, Sophia, and Lucy, as I mentioned, are off living the high life (?) in New York and won’t be back until late Saturday, so I figured no one could stop me from making pancakes for supper. I guess maybe I could make waffles.

The timing is a little silly because I don’t have any good maple syrup in the house, but I hope to later this weekend! Sonny and I have been collecting sap every afternoon and should have at least twelve gallons by Saturday, which should boil down to about a third of a gallon of syrup. Nights below freezing and days above freezing are when the changing barometric pressure really pushes the trees to start getting their sap flowing.

This is five gallons of sap:

It tastes like water, but you can discern the sugar if you focus! 

Damien dragged his old wood stove out of his office for me before he left

and yesterday, on the way to pick up the kids from school, someone had put three pots on the side of the road with a “free” sign. Really BIG pots, all with lids! Note the seltzer can for scale. 

So they just need a good scrubbing and I’ll probably use the smaller two for boiling sap. I am not sure what the biggest one with the heavy duty spigot was used for. Any ideas? I’m thinking of turning it into a heated water dispenser for the ducks, but I haven’t decided yet. 

In closing, yes, Corrie fits inside the big pot

and yes, she still looks like Baby Hermes. 

Well, goodbye! 

 

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One-pan kielbasa, cabbage, and red potato dinner with mustard sauce

This meal has all the fun and salt of a wiener cookout, but it's a tiny bit fancier, and you can legit eat it in the winter. 

Ingredients

  • 3-4 lbs kielbasa
  • 3-4 lbs red potatoes
  • 1-2 medium cabbages
  • (optional) parsley for garnish
  • salt and pepper and olive oil

mustard sauce (sorry, I make this different each time):

  • mustard
  • red wine if you like
  • honey
  • a little olive oil
  • salt and pepper
  • fresh garlic, crushed

Instructions

  1. Preheat the oven to 400. 

    Whisk together the mustard dressing ingredients and set aside. Chop parsley (optional).

    Cut the kielbasa into thick coins and the potatoes into thick coins or small wedges. Mix them up with olive oil, salt, and pepper and spread them in a shallow pan. 

    Cut the cabbage into "steaks." Push the kielbasa and potatoes aside to make room to lay the cabbage down. Brush the cabbage with more olive oil and sprinkle with more salt and pepper. It should be a single layer of food, and not too crowded, so it will brown well. 

    Roast for 20 minutes, then turn the food as well as you can and roast for another 15 minutes.  

    Serve hot with dressing and parsley for a garnish. 

What’s for supper? Vol. 414: EVIL Friday to you

A few years ago during Advent, I found this in among Corrie’s papers:

And ever since then, every time I feel like I’m not quite hitting the right tone for some particular occasion, I think to myself, “Ah, evil feliz navidad.”

So, evil Lent to you! Or, wait, Evil Cuaresma! Here, on this, the very first Friday of Lent, is an illustrated list of all the food we ate, including Fat Monday, Fat Tuesday, and honestly Fat Thursday, including some incredibly juicy and delicious steaks! YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT. EVIL CUARESMA! 

SATURDAY
Leftovers with corn dogs and bulgoki empanadas

On Saturday, the kids were helping one of their siblings move, so I had no shopping buddy, which meant that EYE got to pick out the dessert, the weekend “silly cereal,” and the frozen food accompaniment for the leftover buffet. For dessert, I picked something called Lepre-cones

just strictly for the name. I myself would not try to market a quiescently frozen treat with “LEPRE” in the title, but that’s just me. My father used to sing a song about leprosy, with the line “there goes my eyeball, into your highball,” but that is all I can remember, and it seems like enough. 

To go along with the leftovers, I picked corn dogs, which most of the kids don’t like, but which Damien and I do; and something called “bulgogi empanadas,” which sounds like something I would make. So I had those two things for supper, plus some leftover rice, because it was Saturday and there are no vegetables allowed. 

The bulgogi empanadas tasted like school cafeteria beef stew stuffed into empanadas. Very sad. The corn dogs were great, though, because corn dogs are great. 

SUNDAY
Oddly sweet pizza

Sunday after Mass, for the last day of February vacation, we drove to Salem, MA to the Peabody Essex Museum, mainly to see the Flemish Masterworks exhibit. It was FANTASTIC. Lots of variety, nicely organized into sacred art, portraits, silly stuff, and landscapes, including sculpture, which I don’t usually associate with Flemish art. I just about passed out looking at a Rubens shoulder up close. Here’s some things that caught my eye. 

 

The rest of the museum was weird but good. They have a very wide variety of art, and they tend not to organize it by date, which is a little disorienting, but thought-provoking. Their art cards were not great, and I really wished for more information sometimes, but they weren’t too editorial, anyway. It is an extremely confusing building with not enough signs, and I spent about a third of my time lost, but I did keep accidentally wandering into interesting rooms, including lots of unexpected animals. Overall highly recommended – the museum, and especially this exhibit. It will be at PEM through May 4 and is traveling around the country. 

The Museum is in Salem, MA, which is THE Salem, of witch trial fame, and long ago, they decided that they were going to squeeze every drop out of that history in the tackiest way possible, which you have to admire. I mean it has all the gorgeous hand-carved colonial architecture and preserved cobblestone and quirky bay windows and whatnot, but also every last damn thing has a witch on it. Right next to the museum was the Witch City Mall, and we briefly considered getting pizza at the pizza place that was (witchily?) decorated with skeletons and a giant Frankenstein head, but it had such a heavy feeling of apathy and ennui, even for a mall, that we decided to look elsewhere. Those who are familiar with the Witch City Mall can tell me if we missed out on anything!

We ended up going to some pizza place in nearby Beverly, which serves NY style pizza. I think it was Siciliano Pizza or something along those lines. Anyway, we don’t get NY style pizza too often, and the kids were rather shocked by the thin crust and extremely sweet sauce. Is that typical? I was expecting the thin, crisp crust, but the sauce was SO sweet. 

We got one plain, one pepperoni, and one with tomatoes, feta, and spinach. The feta was also very sweet!

However, we were all Museum Hungry, so it was fine. Got home and collapsed, broccoli-fashion. 

MONDAY
Steak, mashed potatoes, green beans amondine

Back to school! And Damien reminded me that the heating element in the oven, which we replaced kind of a short time ago, broke again; so my plans to roast the giant eye of round roast beef I splurged on were foiled. (I asked about it on Facebook, but accidentally called it a rib eye, which is too splurgy for me, even for Fat Monday!)

ANYWAY, the upshot was that Damien just cut it into steaks and pan-fried it, and it was INSANELY DELICIOUS. 

Everybody got their own thick little juicy little half-pound steak, and I also made mashed potatoes and green beans amondine. I basically followed this recipe, which has you boil and blanch the string beans, and then in a pan, you melt a bunch of butter with thyme, garlic salt, and dijon mustard. I didn’t have dijon mustard, but I did have some of that stone ground whole mustard with the little popping seeds in it, and it was great. You add the string beans back into the butter and heat them up along with toasted slivered almonds (reminder that you can easily toast almonds in the microwave!) and a little more thyme. Yum. 

I really messed up the mashed potatoes, though. I just didn’t boil them long enough, but didn’t realize it until I had already drained the water out. So I tried to make up for their undercookedness by running them through the food processor; and when that didn’t go so great, I moved them to the Ninja blender and whipped the hell out of them. They did end up more or less smooth, but there was definitely Something Wrong with the texture. Oh well!

FAT TUESDAY
Dinner at the Winchester

Tuesday was Mardi Gras, and we have somehow established the tradition of going to Chili’s for Mardi Gras, so that’s what we did. I had some kind of chicken rice bowl thing and just about everyone else had some form of bacon burger and fries; and then we decided to do a “choose your own ice cream” adventure at Price Chopper. 

I picked Dulce de Leche Churro ice cream

and it was amaaaaaazing. 

WEDNESDAY
Spaghetti

Wednesday of course was Ash Wednesday, and also a dentist appointment, and also time for certain people to freak out in for no apparent reason in a pretty spectacular fashion. Then we went home, had spaghetti, and remembered we were dust. 

THURSDAY
Chicken burgers, chips, vegetables and dip; birthday cake

Thursday was Elijah’s birthday, and he graciously postponed his birthday meal (which will be Damien’s special elaborate lasagna) until the weekend, but he and Sophia did make a cake. 

Twenty-one candles, count ’em. My stars. Between that and the thing at the dentist where we went to schedule Lucy’s next six-month check up and discovered that, in six months, she will be too old to see the pediatric dentist anymore, is. . . quite a thing. Last I checked, all my kids were either four, or nine, or possibly 11. But not older than that! (The other week, when Corrie turned ten, I said, “Wow, you’re a whole decade old!” and she said, “That sounds so old! Probably because ‘decade’ sounds like ‘decayed.'” So you can see she’s inherited my cheery outlook on life.) 

On Thursday I also had my very first stress test, just to rule out cardiac issues since my body is still being kind of a weird guy. My heart looks great, and the visit notes said I was in good shape for my age, which, I’ll take it.

But I was chatting with the nurses as I was on the treadmill, and of course we got to talking about kids, and I mentioned (and simultaneously realized) that I have four teenage daughters. And that was also pretty good to hear (even from my own lips) because I’ve been going around feeling like such an absolute LOSER lately, and I didn’t really know why. But that explains it! I have an acute case of teenage daughters. Who are delightful and beautiful, funny and smart and helpful, interesting and creative, but . . . it would be developmentally inappropriate for them to spend a lot of time thinking about whether they are constantly making their mom feel like crap, and I am happy to report that they do not do this! So we’ve got that going for us. Anyway, my heart is fine. I chased each kid down and hugged them individually the other day. That’ll show ’em. 

And soon it will be spring, for real. We’ve had quite a bit of thawing here, so the morning drive is full of brilliant fog banks as the snowbanks evaporate, and what’s left is a grimy, tired snow without much fight left in it. Most likely it will snow again, but it really is truly actually kind of almost spring, finally, almost.

I tapped my maple trees on Tuesday, with only the finest, most high-tech equipment

and they’re actually running really slow, for some reason. Some of them are not running at all, and I have no idea why. I tapped above a root, on the south side, with a slight upward angle, when the nights are cold and the days are warm. Nothin’. But I am getting some sap from a few trees, and I’ll boil what I get, and that will be that. Maybe next week will be better. Maybe they’re taking a gap year. A sap gap. I don’t know. 

FRIDAY
Grilled cheese, tomato soup

And I am super duper looking forward to it. I love grilled cheese and tomato soup. Also I have been using My Fitness Pal to track calories for just over a month now, and let me tell you, something has happened to food in general in that time, because it tastes amazing.

I have tracked calories before, but not using an app, and for some reason, the little ring that shows how many calories I have left in the day is very motivating. Check back in six months and I’m sure I’ll be writing another affirming essay about how good it is to learn to be comfortable in a large body, rather than worrying about calories all the time. You know, I’m fairly full of sap myself. 

A Lent for this specific year

Lent is one of those seasons when the “Both/And” nature of the Catholic Church really asserts itself.  

The practices and purposes of Lent are ancient, timeless, universal. It’s a season when we’re invited to step into an ancient, continuous tradition of fasting, praying, self-denial that would not be completely foreign to Catholics who lived centuries ago. 

It’s also a time when we’re supposed to ask ourselves, “What am I in particular, in this specific year, at this specific time in my life, supposed to do so that I can come closer to God?” 

I have some ideas! Here are my suggestions for how to spend Lent in the year 2025. 

Refuse to dehumanize. Not even a little bit.

Undeniably, there are evil people in the world doing evil things.  These people are our brothers and sisters in Christ, with no exceptions at all. They are not trash, not termites, not scum, not excrement, not parasites, not a waste of skin.  

Dehumanization paves the way to oppression, every time. We must not participate, even for the sake of rhetoric, or our hearts will follow the lead of our lips.  

It is becoming more and more socially acceptable to refer to our opponents as less than human, because we see them behaving so abominably, and because they’re calling us even worse names. But as Christians, this should impel us to work harder to recall their humanity, not to give in. Christ did not despise us, and we’re obligated to pass that mercy on.  

Refuse to enjoy being angry.

There’s a lot to be angry about. But when we’re angry at another human being, we should steel ourselves against relishing that rage and delighting in our disgust.  

We can follow the example of Mr Dimble in the final pages of That Hideous Strength, who has just discovered how thoroughly Mark Studdock has given himself over to evil: 

“He seemed to Mark to be looking at him not with anger or contempt but with that degree of loathing which produces in those who feel it a kind of embarrassment—as if he were an obscenity which decent people are forced, for very shame, to pretend that they have not noticed. 

“In this Mark was quite mistaken. In reality his presence was acting on Dimble as a summons to rigid self-control. Dimble was simply trying very hard not to hate, not to despise, above all not to enjoy hating and despising, and he had no idea of the fixed severity which this effort gave to his face.” 

Relatedly:

Give up, or at least cast a critical eye on, doing things that will score us points with our crowd 

That’s one of the worst and most perilous reasons to do or believe something: For applause. Our foundational ideas can so easily shift along with the crowd without us even realizing it, and the crowd tends to demand more and more debasement.  

Times like these are a wonderful opportunity to halt, assess what our core values are, and ask ourselves: Why am I doing this? Why am I saying this? Why am I speaking to or about this person this way?  Just check in and see if anything has shifted in your heart since last year, or since a few years ago; and, if it has, consider whether our new personal standards make us a better witness to the Gospel, or worse. 

Swear off hate-socialising…

Read the rest of my latest for The Catholic Weekly. 

Small ways to make your Triduum better

How do you keep the Triduum well? The obvious and maybe best way is to take advantage of whatever your parish is offering on these three final days before Easter: Holy Thursday Mass, veneration of the cross, stations of the cross, Tenebrae, adoration. Or if you can’t do these things with your fellow Catholics in person, you can certainly do many of them at home. Here’s Tenebrae; here’s stations.

But some of us are just barely hanging on, and getting up and going to a service that’s not obligatory could very well just be too much. And many of us are doing okay, but we have multiple obligations that keep us from dropping everything mundane and plunging entirely into spiritual exercises. We have to live our everyday lives while still somehow preparing ourselves and maybe our families for the most holy and solemn and meaningful three days of the entire year. How do we pull that off?

Here are a few ideas that require no preparation, and you can do them immediately, and they may help put you in the right frame of mind for the Triduum. 

Don’t denounce anybody. If you spend any time on social media, this one is harder than it might seem. So many people are so ripe for denunciation! But you can just take a pause and remember that all sins, all the ones you detest in other people, and all the ones you excuse in yourself, all are accounted for in the cross. So take a pause, and let the cross account for them, rather than doing it yourself, just for now. It doesn’t mean you’re condoning evil or looking the other way or being one of those much-maligned good men who says nothing. You’re just acknowledging that this is the one week when right and wrong is bigger than you and your wagging finger. 

Quiet down. Just . . . quiet down, everywhere. Quiet your voice, quiet the radio, quiet your music. Take everything down a notch, or turn it off altogether. Opt out of anything optional that’s raucous or frenetic, just for a few days. Triduum is a short, strange, unsettling time, and it’s good to help ourselves feel the strangeness of it by removing some of the ordinary bustle and noise of our everyday life if possible. 

Listen. Make a particular effort to listen to the people around you. Give them your full attention when they are talking to you, and try to respond to them as humanely as you can. When you go outdoors, listen to the sounds of the natural world, and be more aware of the complexity of the millions of little lives that surround you. And try to be ready to listen to the tiny, easy-to-ignore voice of the Holy Spirit that patiently waits and waits for you to be ready to listen. 

Go to bed a little bit earlier. Not everyone can. Lots of people have no choice about how much sleep they get. But many of us, me included, stay up late for no good reason, and it has a bad effect on them and everyone they interact with the next day. In a small act of self-discipline, try sending yourself to bed sooner than you’d like. It’s not self-indulgent. Even Jesus rested over Holy Saturday. He didn’t die for our sins and then bounce right back up again out of the grave, but he rested. I know He was busy scouring the underworld, but I do believe he was also taking a break. Rest is very much baked into who we are and who God is, so if we’re ever going to make a point of doing it, let’s do it before Easter if we possibly can. 

Be content with whatever your Lent has been. If you haven’t used your Lent in any especially admirable way, there’s not really any such thing as scrambling to make up for lost time at the last minute. That was never what it was about anyway. We all show up empty-handed. You can offer up failure to the Lord, too, and He receives that as graciously as any great achievement or sacrifice. The point is to show up. Always show up. The only mistake you can make is to stay away. 

Pray for me, and I will pray for you! 

Image: Pieta tryptich by Luis de Morales, 1570, Museo Nacional del Prado via Picryl

All possible questions about Lent, answered

Dear Simcha,

Somebody told me that “Lent” is actually an acronym for “Let’s Eliminate Negative Thinking,” and it’s always been a time for focusing on our sense of self-worth as valuable members of God’s organization. But someone else told me that’s a foolish modern innovation, and it actually stands for “laborare errare nobis tacitumitas” and it has something to do with hard work making you silent? But when I ran that past my Latin teacher, she just gave a little shudder and pulled a flask out of her top drawer, and wouldn’t even look at me. So where does the word “Lent” actually come from?

Signed,
Little Miss Etty Mology

Dear Miss,

It is a word that comes directly from the Middle English word “Lent,” which comes from the Old English word “Lencten,” which is derived from the proto-Germanic “lengentumpen” which means “quit trying to be cute.” Lent is Lent. You guys know what Lent is. Say your prayers, make with the alms, and don’t touch that burger. That’s what Lent means. 

Read the rest of my latest for Our Sunday Visitor.

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

An unexpected movie watchlist for Lent

It’s the first Friday in Lent, and you know what that means: Mandatory Lent Film Party! At least, that’s what it means at our house. As much as we can manage, every other evening in Lent is screen-free at our house. But on Fridays, we assemble the family and watch a movie together. But unlike most other movie nights, the adults get to pick it.

The parameters: Each movie should have a religious or spiritual theme or setting (not necessarily Christian), and it should be well-made enough that there’s a reason to watch it besides the spiritual aspect. We lean toward movies we probably wouldn’t get around to watching otherwise.

Some of the movies are new to us, and sometimes they turn out to be terrible! This is not a problem, as long as we talk about why we didn’t like it. Talking about the movie afterward is also mandatory.

We’ve done this for a few years, and I’ve reviewed these movies as we watch them. (Click the title of the films below for my full review.) I tried to include age recommendations—my kids range from age 8 to 25—but it’s a good idea to check out a site like commonsensemedia.org for specific elements that may make it inappropriate for your household’s audience.

Here are some of the highlights and lowlights from the lesser-known or unexpected films on our Lenten watchlist to date… Read the rest of my latest for America Magazine. 

Image:

Meilin Lee Watching TV Template by MaksKochanowicz123
and GaryStockbridge617 (Creative Commons)

How to keep the LENT in Valentine’s Day

Ash Wednesday is tomorrow! Valentine’s Day is tomorrow! WHAT TO DO?

Last time this happened, the American bishops felt compelled to clarify that Ash Wednesday does, in fact, trump Valentine’s Day, even if overpriced teddy bears are a very important part of your spirituality. So you push up V-day to Tuesday, or to the weekend before. Easy peasy, shift your squeezy.

Or, you combine them. YASS. Both/and; so Catholic. Here are a few ideas for how to combine romance and suffering, sweetness and pain.

GIFTS OF FINEST CAROB  Remember carob?  It looks like chocolate that’s been sitting in a dusty corner for a while, and it tastes like a chocolately dusty corner.  Fasting just got that much easier! Give your significant other a satiny, heart-shaped box packed with an assortment of carob truffles, and you will be transmitting a powerful Lenten message:  we must not be seduced by the passing allure of temporal things, for the sweetness of this world is but a ackkkk, blech, ptui, what is this?

QUEEN VICTORIA’S SECRET  We’re required to abstain from meat, but other kinds of abstinence? Not obligatory. On the other hand, you don’t want to start your Lent too carnal-like.  So try this easy trick:  pick out something satiny or lacy, but at least four sizes too large.  As the lucky lady opens the box, you can wiggle your eyebrows suggestively while explaining, “You really put the gras in Mardi Gras this year, Marty!”  (This works better if your wife’s name is Marty.) I guarantee you, no sins of fleshly excess will threaten your evening.  Unless you count “stabbing” as a sin of fleshly excess.

SEASONALLY APPROPRIATE FLOWERS  Take a leaf from liturgical decorators around the country:  Go out back where the dumpsters are, pull up some dead grass, and add a few twiggy things and maybe a really scuzzy looking cattail.  Stick it in a pot, preferably one that looks like grandma got into the clay again.  Voila — Lent flowers!  In a similar vein, if you know your wife or girlfriend was hoping for perfume, you can substitute sand, because sand is symbolic and whatnot.

HEIRLOOM JEWELRY  Any unimaginative bozo can stumble into Zales and pick out a diamond this or a ruby that.  What you want is something that is not only decorative, but also saturated in spiritual significance.  So go ahead and rummage through the lost and found box on the radiator at the back of the church.  Maybe you’ll find a nice, broken-in scapular, already “seasoned” with the holy emanations of countless fervent necks.  Or maybe you’ll really luck out and find a miraculous medal that’s so well-prayed-on, it’s gone full manatee.  Jackpot!

A LOVE LETTER TELLING YOUR BELOVED HOW YOU REALLY FEEL. . . about the state of his or her soul.  True love doesn’t sit by and let other people wallow in sin.  Consider a hand-penned, calligraphic examination of his or her conscience.  Or you might assemble a “dream team” of hand-selected patron saints which you will be assigning to the cause of your beloved’s salvation (St. Drogo, St. Fiacre and, of course, St. Jude spring to mind).  Or simply borrow some lyric lines from scripture.  I suggest Jeremiah.  There are also some really exquisite passages in Hosea.

Good luck, hot stuff. You’re gonna need it.

***

A version of this post originally ran at the National Catholic Register in 2013.

How to keep the “Lent” in Valentine’s Day

Have you looked at your calendar lately? Have you noticed that, in 2024, the most dark and difficult annual day of self-examination and penitence falls, by some terrible misfortune, on the same exact same day as Ash Wednesday?

I speak, of course, of that darkest, most difficult, most penitential of days, Valentine’s Day.

Ho ho! I joke. I like Valentine’s Day. It is fine. I, like most Americans, act normal about this holiday, and do not get weird about it. We definitely aren’t mad or upset because our annual Whitman’s sampler, dyed flower and Temu lingerie fest is being threatened by Actual Spoilsport, God. American Catholics would never! We know better, and we always act normal!

I joke again. In fact, there is a flurry of consternation about how we are supposed to celebrate Valentine’s Day without letting it overshadow the beginning of Lent.

The answer is, of course, you can’t, silly. Ash Wednesday is way more important than Valentine’s Day, so it gets first dibs on your time. If Valentine’s Day is important to you or to the person you love, there’s nothing wrong with that! You just move it, and celebrate it some other day. This is just what it’s like being an adult: Sometimes things just don’t work out, and you have to be flexible.

But that doesn’t mean some people aren’t going to get a little too flexible. Call it the New Evangelization or call it an obsession, but I can’t stop thinking about something that happened a few weeks ago at Mass…

Read the rest of my latest for Our Sunday Visitor.