Month: May 2020

What’s for supper? Vol. 111: We can be gyros, just for one day

Not gonna lie, we ate like kings this week, and I was happy with my food photos, too. Not gonna lie!

SATURDAY
Burgers and chips, broccoli and dip

I think Damien made this. You’ll notice, that was kind of a theme this week. 

SUNDAY
Pizza

Damien made the pizza while I was gardening or something. I recall coming in all huffing and puffing and covered with dirt, and there was this wonderful pizza coming out of the oven just melting with onions, sliced garlic, and feta. Here is an unfiltered photo of this psychedelic pizza, transmitted, as the name implies, directly from my psyche:

Far out, man. 

MONDAY
Cuban sandwiches, chips, fruit salad

A Cuban sandwich has mustard, pork, ham, pickles, and Swiss cheese, and then it’s grilled and pressed. It’s supposed to be made with Cuban bread, which I have never even seen, but you can substitute something crisp but not crusty on the outside, and soft on the inside. The bread aisles are still pretty skimpy around here, so I ended up with ciabatta rolls. By the time I got twelve sandwiches assembled, I was seized with a deep, unassailable urge not to grill and press twelve sandwiches. 

So I laid them all in a pan, poured tons of melted butter over the top, and baked them. I made a halfhearted attempt to squash them at some point, but that bread wasn’t up for being squashed much. 

Outside:

Inside:

As you can see, the filling wasn’t all melded and compressed like they’re supposed to be. Guess what, they were delicious. Every once in a while, I have to remind myself I don’t actually believe in authentic and inauthentic food. I believe in food that either tastes good or it doesn’t, the end. 

The fruit salad was pretty, too, so there.

Oh, Damien made the pork with some kind of crusted herbs outside. I honestly think he just baked it, but I’m not sure. 

TUESDAY
Tacos and guacamole and margaritas

Tuesday was Taco Tuesday and Cinqo de Whathave you. But I thought it was Wednesday. So I made some pita bread dough and marinade for pork gyros before I discovered it was Tuesday. Undaunted, I put the dough and marinade in the fridge and intrepidly asked Clara to make some guacamole and asked Damien to make some taco meat.

Here’s the guac recipe:

Jump to Recipe

Tuesday was the day I realized if we were going to start seedlings inside, it needed to be now, so Benny, Corrie, and I got to work.

My original plan was to put the pots outside during the warm days, and then bring them in during the chilly nights, and to do this, uh, every day until Memorial Day, when it will be warm enough to put them in the ground. Even as I was forming this idea, I knew it was terrible and unworkable, especially since the back door is blocked by two large rolls of linoleum waiting for their time to come, and any twice-daily moving in and out of thirty little pots would surely involve showers of dirt and all kinds of rage and frustration, which doesn’t mesh at all with my tender fantasies of children experiencing the wonder of germination in the sweet, sweet springtime.

I mulled over various stupid plans and ended up installing two nursery shelves over a heating vent in front of two of the dining room windows, and now we have a whole new thing to bump our heads on! And we can still have showers of dirt. If you want to have a good laugh about people who get too many babies started even though they don’t have space or a workable plan, go right ahead. I did.  

Damien knew on Monday that it was Monday, so he made some simple syrup, and on Tuesday, which he knew was Tuesday, he made some wonderful margaritas. ¡Salud!

We use Lunazul Blanco Tequila, which is cheap and fine and has a wolf on the bottle. Damien’s margarita recipe:

Jump to Recipe

 

WEDNESDAY
Pork gryos with yogurt sauce and homemade pita

You’d think that, since I already had the dough and marinade made, this meal would just come together, zoop-zoop-zoop, as my mother used to say. It did not. It was totally worth it, but man, it was a lot of work. 

Here’s the recipe I used. Last time I made this pita bread, it puffed up like magic in the oven. This time, very little puffing occurred. I think I let the dough rise too much before I got around to baking it. It was still fantastic — so much nicer than stiff old store bought pita. I did the oven version, because I was making 32 pitas, and I only managed to get four in the oven at a time. They only take about three minutes to bake per batch, though. 

With twelve people home, an adequate amount of fries pretty much takes up the whole oven, so I decided to cook the pork on the stovetop so we didn’t end up eating at midnight. The meat is better broiled or, even better, cooked outside over the coals; but it was still delicious and tender. While th was cooking, I mixed up a bunch of garlicky yogurt sauce and had the kids cut up tomatoes and cucumbers. 

I like my gyros with just meat and yogurt sauce and hot sauce in the pita, with the veggies and fries on the side. 

Gosh it was delicious. Man, this is a good meal. 

THURSDAY
Chicken cutlets with basil and provolone

Thursday was Moe’s birthday, and this was his requested meal, heartily approved by the whole family. A Burneko recipe from Deadspin: pounded chicken breast breaded with panko crumbs and fried in olive oil, topped with fresh basil and a slice of provolone, and then smothered with a scoop of homemade tomato sauce.

Check out the insanely dramatic photos I got with the smoke from the frying chicken still billowing around in the evening sun: 

It really tasted this dramatic, too. The sweet sauce, the tender chicken in crisp breading, the melty cheese, and the tender little basil hiding inside, so nice.

This is a fantastically delicious meal (which Damien doesn’t mind making every so often, even though it’s tons of work). Everyone just goes crazy and eats twice what they normally do. 

FRIDAY
Spaghetti

For reasons, Moe and his girlfriend are having this same dish again tonight, in the back yard, six feet apart, and there’s a birthday cake in the oven right now. At some point in the day, I hope to make it resemble Audrey II, because that will be nice. I have slivered almonds for the teeth, but that’s as far as I’ve planned. We shall see. 

Oh, and my friend Leeandra suggests the following modifications to make boxed cake mix much better: Add an extra egg, use melted butter instead of oil, and use milk instead of water. Again, we shall see! 

The rest of us are having spaghetti, inside, a foot and a half apart, with leftover sauce. 

Oh, Clara’s also making Hobbit bread! This is a braided loaf stuffed with cheese and sautéed onions and mushrooms, which Moe also requested for his birthday.

Past Hobbit bread:

Don’t you wish you had a sister like that?

And here, my dears, are the recipe cards. Happy spring to you!

5 from 1 vote
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White Lady From NH's Guacamole

Ingredients

  • 4 avocados
  • 1 medium tomato, diced
  • 1 medium jalapeno, minced
  • 1/2 cup cilantro, chopped roughly
  • 1 Tbsp minced garlic
  • 2 limes juiced
  • 1 tsp chili powder
  • salt and pepper
  • 1/2 red onion, diced

Instructions

  1. Peel avocados. Mash two and dice two. 

  2. Mix together with rest of ingredients and add seasonings.

  3. Cover tightly, as it becomes discolored quickly. 

 

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Marinade for pork gyros

Marinate thinly-sliced meat for several hours, then grill over the coals or broil in the oven. Serve wrapped up in pita with cucumbers, tomatoes, french fries, hot sauce, and yogurt sauce. This marinade is enough for about five pounds of meat. 

Ingredients

  • 4 medium tomatoes diced and smashed a bit
  • 2 onions grated
  • 2 Tbsp oregano (or a large handful of fresh oregano, chopped)
  • 1/2 cup olive oil
  • 3/4 cup lemon juice
  • 2 Tbsp paprika
  • 12 cloves garlic, crushed or minced
  • kosher salt and pepper
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Yogurt sauce

Ingredients

  • 32 oz full fat Greek yogurt
  • 5 cloves garlic, crushed
  • 1/4 cup lemon juice
  • 3 Tbsp olive oil
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1/2 tsp pepper
  • fresh parsley or dill, chopped (optional)

Instructions

  1. Mix all ingredients together. Use for spreading on grilled meats, dipping pita or vegetables, etc. 

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Damien's margaritas

Ingredients

  • 1 cup sugar for simple syrup
  • sugar for glasses
  • kosher salt or sea salt for glasses
  • white tequila (we like Lunazul Blanco)
  • triple sec
  • lime juice

Instructions

  1. First make the simple syrup, and allow time for it to cool.

    Combine the sugar with a cup of water in a small pot and simmer, stirring, until it is clear. Let cool. Damien puts it in a mason jar and refrigerates it.

  2. Prepare the glasses. Mix sea salt or kosher salt and sugar in a saucer and add a little lime juice to wet it. Rub a lime wedge along the edge of the glass and roll it in the salt and sugar mix.

  3. To make the margaritas, put some ice cubes in a cocktail shaker or mason jar. Add three parts tequila, two parts lime juice, one part Triple Sec, one part simple syrup. Shake until the lid gets cold. Pour the liquid into prepared glasses.

 

 

 

Sincerely, Horace J. Schmiddlapp

The other day, my therapist said, “How are you? The last time we talked, your father had just died.”

And I answered, “Well . . . he’s still dead.”

This is totally a dad joke, and he would have laughed. Every time a celebrity died, he would rail against the 24-hour coverage on the news, as if there could be some update. Still dead! And I’m finding myself doing more and more things in tribute to him. If you care to play along, here are some things you could do in tribute to my father:

1.Sign something ‘Horace J. Schmiddlapp’. I forget how this first got started. I think he got tired of having to sign endless, useless permission slips for his eight children, so he started signing them ‘Horace J. Schmiddlapp’, and no one ever questioned it. Now that we’re going over legal documents and working through thorny issues of his estate, we’re glad he only took it that far.

2. Bring fancy cookies to the people who work at the post office and bank. This was a recent development, but apparently he used to do this every Christmas. I was amazed to hear it. When I was growing up, he cultivated a reputation as a curmudgeon. I guess it goes to show: Just because you used to be one way, doesn’t mean you can’t start bringing people cookies.

Read the rest of my latest for The Catholic Weekly. 

Want to wake up the sheeple? Fill in the blanks.

These are [adjective] times. Everyone is suffering, but no one more so than [name of your specific cultural and socio-economic group]. 

Look around you, and you’ll see all the signs of an [adjective] chastisement. The economy is floundering. [Name of favorite sport] may never recover. It’s been [number] weeks since we’ve been able to purchase [name of snack you have argued should be excluded from food stamp purchases].

The last time people endured trials like this, christians were in the arena with [name of wild animal], and [name of democrat] looked on and laughed. 

Worst of all, people are watching Mass on [streaming platform you can’t figure out how to work]. As [name of internet priest who claims to be based on a houseboat in the Bosphorus and therefore doesn’t have to obey his bishop] has clearly stated, this practice is extremely spiritually dangerous, because so many pre-[name of favorite ecumenical council]-type Catholics are already so easily led astray by outrageous offenses like the wearing of [clothing in 99% of modern closets], [a practice that even Pius XIII specifically said is fine, gosh], and nail polish in the perfidious color of [name of perfidious color]. 

Those who aren’t already deeply mired in the [name of heresy]-rooted sin of [name of sin that occurs below the belt] will readily realize that this is no normal crisis. It’s an [adjective] crisis! According to the elocutions of [name of woman recently arrested for mail fraud], our Lady of [European town that could use an influx of tourism cash] clearly warned us that if we didn’t immediately stop [name of sin that holds no appeal to you], she would be in danger of losing the arm-wrestling match with [name of person of the Holy Trinity] and we would be chastised with terrible [name of disease].

And now look. NOW LOOK, you [name of invertebrate]. You brought this about with your [perversion you recently looked up on Urban Dictionary for purely academic research] and your [frightening ethnic food people are now selling on the street corner where you used to play stickball as a lad].

I hope you’re [emotion].

You should be ashamed. Yes, you, you [name of liquid]-spined [name of unimpressive animal]. We’re onto you. I can tell by your [description of basic courtesy] that you probably read [creative spelling of “Simcha Fisher”]. Maybe you don’t know that [name of Catholic celebrity who acts like complete jackass on social media] came back from the brink of death specifically to warn us about people like [you].

[onomatopoeia for spitting]. 

Enough. If you’re an American with blood that is [color], ask yourself, “Who could possibly be profiting from this?” And the answer is, as always, [euphemism for Jews]. Of course, [euphemism for black people] are also suffering, but they brought it on themselves by [verb describing action necessary for existence].

But because of them, we’ll all be subject to mandatory [name of routine medical treatment] which has been conclusively proven on YouTube by [name of person who is not a doctor] to cause permanent flaccidity of the [name of favorite body part].

Friends, there is only one solution. If you love [name of religious devotion] and the [document you once paid the EIB network six easy installments of $43 to purchase an authentic reproduction of], let’s cast off the shackles of [name of basic medical hygiene] and say no to this [name of crime against humanity that you read about in American Girls].

Let’s Make America [adjective] Again, one [name of pathogen-spreading behavior] at a time.

.

.

Image: from Agricultural Research activities book (via Flickr) (no known copyright restriction)

 

 

What does it mean to be present at Mass?

I’m reprinting this article because we’ve all been thinking about how it feels not to be present at Mass. But what does it mean to be present, and what does it mean when you can’t be present?  Something to consider as churches begin to open up again. 
***

Whenever we possibly can, my husband and I split up and take turns going to Mass, so someone can stay home and let our youngest kid be rotten in private. That was not possible this week. So instead, we took turns sitting on a folding chair in the parish hall, watching the dear child writhe around on the floor in a rage because we denied her the pleasure of diving into the parish toilet. I eventually calmed her down, administered a few bribes, popped into the church in time to receive Communion, and then scooted out again before the howls resumed.

Because this is our tenth child, I’ve spent many a Mass this way, and I’ve spent many a morning wondering what it really means to be at Mass. I know that we should make an effort to fulfill our Sunday obligation, and I know that God doesn’t get mad at you for not doing things you can’t do.

But what does it mean to be present at Mass? I used to flagellate my heart with accusations of ingratitude. Nigerian converts, I had heard, would labor six days a week, then spend the Sabbath walking barefoot eighteen miles to and from Mass, because they recognized it for the privilege it was; that’s how unwavering was their focus on the prize of Christ.

I’ve mostly abandoned this guilty line of thought. They are they, and I am I, and the cross God has given me is lighter, but it is mine. I want to be at Mass, but I often spend Mass distracted by unavoidable duties. With previous children, I would have asked myself (and anyone within earshot) what was even the point of going to Mass, if I knew I wasn’t even going to hear most of it, much less say the responses, much less dwell prayerfully on the meaning of it all.

I don’t ask that anymore. I think that what it means to be present at Mass is to show up with whatever you’ve got. We are there to worship God and to participate in the divine mystery by which the Son offers Himself to the Father. We have the unthinkable privilege of joining in on that sacrifice, and we do it by bringing whatever it is we’ve got. For me, that’s a week-long effort, plus little spurts of devotion and gratitude on Sundays and Holy Days. That’s what I’ve got right now.

The great revelation: Whoever we are, whatever we’ve got, it’s still not enough. Whatever preparation we’ve done, it’s not enough. However attentive we are, it’s not enough. There is great peace in letting that knowledge sink into your heart: We’re not enough, and never can be — no, not even if we’re a shoe-less Nigerian toiling through the Mangrove.

But Christ is all.

So the parent who spends most of the hour outside the walls, but turns her heart to Christ for a good four seconds while her child is momentarily calm? She’s present at Mass, because she has offered up what she has to offer.

And so does young man with Down Syndrome, who chuckles and sighs his way through the liturgy, pausing only to whisper, “Jesus!” during the elevation. And so does the woman who isn’t even sure she wants to be a Catholic anymore, but she hasn’t made the rupture yet, because she loves her husband and knows he wants her to stay. And the man who grinds his teeth over liturgical banjos is offering up what he has, because he’s fighting his way through an invisible hedge of aesthetic suffering to get to Jesus.  Because nothing we have is enough, but Jesus is all.

What does it mean for you to be present at Mass?

If you’re angry at God, you can hurl that toward the altar, too. If you’re worried about a thousand things and find yourself thinking about them over and over again, rather than about what’s going on at the altar, offer up the distraction itself. You cannot believe how unfussy Christ is, in His love for us.

I’m not saying “don’t try.” It’s a worthy thing to make sacrifices, even painful ones, for the privilege of participating at Mass. If you spent your life working hard to enter more and more fully into the mystery of the Eucharist, then that would be a life well spent indeed.

But if you find yourself thinking, week after week, “Why am I even here?” then I’m telling you: You’re there because Jesus is all. That’s worth a huge effort, and it’s also worth whatever you’ve got.

***
A version of this essay was first published in The Catholic Weekly in February of 2018. Reprinted with permission.

“Church Pew with Worshipers” by Vincent van Gogh [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

What’s for supper? Vol. 210: Carbonara, yes.

The fog’s getting thicker, and Leon’s getting larger! There is no Leon. I am Leon. Here’s what we had to eat this week:

SATURDAY
Pizza

We had our usual combination of plain, pepperoni, and olive, and also there were some leftover mushrooms we fried up, and then Damien cut up some anchovies (leftover from last week’s anchstravaganza) just for my two slices, so everyone was happy. 

Saturday was the day the kids showed me the part of the woods they’ve apparently been clambering around in all spring. A beautiful and blessed place with an underground stream you can hear but not see. They found the  spot on the top of the hill where the spring that feeds our stream emerges from the ground, and there is a long string of enormous, moss-covered rocks that got shoved around by some passing glacier many thousands of years ago. Sometimes I can’t believe we’re allowed to live here.

I also got some hardier saplings and shrubs in the ground (in NH, there may be a frost any time until Memorial Day, so only the toughest stuff is safe to plant outside) — a pink crabapple sapling, a mock orange shrub, and some forsythia I got started in pots last year and then forgot about. Looks like the day lilies I transplanted made it through the winter, too! And I have a pile of purple and yellow pansies waiting for a home. We did have some snow this week, and the heat is still coming on every night, but we’ll get there. 

SUNDAY
Rigatoni in béchamel with little meatballs

I saw this recipe on Smitten Kitchen, where she adapted it from Marcella Hazan. Basically, you make a bunch of little meatballas (that was a typo, but I’m letting it ride), you make a big batch of white sauce, and you boil up a bunch of rigatoni, and you mix it all up with a bunch of freshly-grated parmesan, and then bake it until it all melds together. 

Look at these wonderful little meatballas, twinkling like the stars in the sky!

Normally I bake meatballs, which is faster and not so messy, but this recipe seemed worth going the extra mile for. Here’s the recipe, which I will probably not make up a card for, as this dish got increasingly cursed as the day went on.

Don’t get me wrong: it was completely scrumptious.  Imagine the aroma:

Just the coziest, most creamy, savory thing imaginable.

But like I said, it was cursed. I ended up spending something like five hours making it, which is completely unreasonable. And there were some . . . interpersonal problems that cropped up along the way, and I don’t think I’ve processed them fully yet. If it’s okay with you, we’ll just move along. 

MONDAY
Buffalo hot dogs, hot pretzels, broccoli and dip

Buffalo hot dogs are hot dogs with blue cheese, hot sauce, and chopped scallions on them, and they are my current favorite hot dogs. 

Can we all stop for a moment and admire the stellar chopping job I did with that one scallion? 

Scallions are one of several things I’m currently sprouting on my windowsill.

The others are celery, which is coming along nicely

and horseradish, which is just sitting there like an asshole. 

It was sprouting, until I put it in water, and then nothing. Whatever. You can be replaced, pal. Don’t you ever for a second get to thinking you’re irreplaceable.

There’s also this. I’m not sure what the expectations are here. 

Well, there’s no rush. 

TUESDAY
Chicken salad with strawberries, nuts, and cheese

Old reliable. I bought one of those cartons of mixed greens, and then also some other lettuce just for the lizard, as well as some pea sprouts, which I happen to know he likes. I told Moe I had bought his lizard some pea sprouts, and he said, “Oh, good. I was just feeding him apples, which he is tired of, so he got mad and pooped in his water dish.”  That’s what kind of house we’re running here.

The salad was greens, as I said, and roasted and sliced chicken breast, strawberries, feta cheese, and your choice of almonds or walnuts  (miraculously left over from Passover), which I didn’t bother toasting, but which I admit are much nicer lightly toasted microwaved. Tasty salad, though. 

Some bottled dressing and there it is. 

WEDNESDAY
Pulled pork sandwiches, coleslaw, fries

I tried a new recipe for the pulled pork this time. It was, as far as I can recall, chunks of pork, a diced onion, several minced garlic cloves, some sliced jalapeños, a bunch of chili powder, a can of Coke, and generous sloshes of soy sauce, wine vinegar, and Worcestershire sauce. I put it in the slow cooker and let it cook for about six hours.

As is so often the case with these things, it smelled PARADISAL and tasted fine. 

I ended up putting some bottled sauce on it, just to give it a little more punch.

If you’re looking for a pulled pork/carnitas recipe that has tons of flavor on its own, do try John Herreid’s recipe, which we made last week. 

I’ll put Lena’s tasty coleslaw recipe at the end, but really I just made the dressing with mayo, white vinegar, and white sugar, and it was fine.

THURSDAY
Spaghetti carbonara, nice grapes

There was this NYT recipe that caught my eye, Springtime Spaghetti Carbonara, and I managed to snag it before it disappeared behind the paywall. Sort of a combination of pasta primavera and spaghetti al carbonara. It called for English peas, asparagus, and basil. But I couldn’t find the peas, and the basil got shoved to the back of the fridge, where it froze. It turns out Irene was trash talking me behind my back about planning to put vegetables in anyway; so I just made good old spaghetti  carbonara.

Jump to Recipe

 

No ragrets. I can’t think of another dish with so few ingredients that tastes like such a luxury. 

Irene, because she has to get worked up about something, was horrified to discover that you throw raw eggs in at the end. Which is how you make this dish, and she’s always eaten it happily, and they’re not really raw, because the hot pasta cooks it. I guess it just doesn’t taste right until you add a little dash of outrage. 

Irene is the kid, by the way, who was on a Zoom meeting yesterday, and got it into her head to stay perfectly still until her classmates started scrambling around, closing tabs and shutting down programs in an effort to unfreeze her. IRENE. 

FRIDAY
Probably Matzoh brei (pronounced to rhyme with “lotsa pie”)

They had cases of matzoh for 75% off, so I did what I had to do. Check your supermarkets and see what you can find! This is a neat little breakfast or brunchy dish that’s easy to make and has lots of variations. Some people have it with jam, which I find a little bleh; but I have to admit, it’s basically french toast, so there’s no reason not to eat it that way. 

Jump to Recipe

I like it as a savory dish with salt and pepper. If you had some crisp fried onions, that would be excellent. The important thing is to cook it in hot oil, so it gets really crisp on the edges. Here’s some matzoh brei in its basic form:

I think I may also make Giant Chocolate Pancake, and maybe some oven fried potatoes, because I am fat, but I could be fatter!

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Coleslaw

Ingredients

  • 1 head cabbage, shredded
  • 2 carrots, grated
  • 5 radishes, grated or sliced thin (optional)

Dressing

  • 1 cup mayo
  • 1 cup cider or white vinegar
  • 1/2 cup lemon juice
  • 1/2 cup sugar
  • pepper to taste

Instructions

  1. Mix together shredded vegetables. 
    Mix dressing ingredients together and stir into cabbage mix. 

 

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Spaghetti carbonara

An easy, delicious meal.

Ingredients

  • 3 lbs bacon
  • 3 lbs spaghetti
  • 1 to 1-1/2 sticks butter
  • 6 eggs, beaten
  • lots of pepper
  • 6-8 oz grated parmesan cheese

Instructions

  1. Fry the bacon until it is crisp. Drain and break it into pieces.

  2. Boil the spaghetti in salted water until al dente. If you like, add some bacon grease to the boiling water.

  3. Drain the spaghetti and return it to the pot. Add the butter, pieces of bacon, parmesan cheese, and pepper and mix it up until the butter is melted.

  4. Add the raw beaten egg and mix it quickly until the spaghetti is coated. Serve immediately.

 

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matzoh brei

A quick little dish you can make whenever there's matzoh around. Rhymes with "lotsa pie." One sheet of matzoh per serving. I like mine with just salt and pepper, but you could have it with jam

Ingredients

  • 1 sheet matzoh
  • 2 eggs, beaten
  • oil for cooking

Instructions

  1. Break the matzoh into pieces about the size of saltines, and put them in a bowl.

  2. Pour hot water over the matzoh pieces and let it sit for a minute to soften. Then drain off the water and press on the matzoh pieces to squeeze out the water.

  3. Pour the beaten eggs over the matzoh and mix a little so the matzoh is all eggy.

  4. Heat up a little oil in a pan. Pour in the matzoh and egg mixture and fry, turning once. You want it crisp on the edges.

  5. Serve with salt and pepper and fried onions if you want it savory. You can also take it in a sweet direction and serve with jam and powdered sugar.