Wait, What's a CSA? (Awesome Fresh Food!) And Do I Need One? (Um, yes)

Growing up, my family ALWAYS had a garden full of veggies - beans, corn, lettuce, onions, potatoes, and random seeds they let Little Amanda choose. We ate fresh all summer and were busy canning, too. As I've gotten older, those gardens have become too cumbersome or we just haven't made time; and our canning is more infrequent. But we still love our fresh veggies. 

In the warmer months, the Hubs, the Baby and I head to our area Farmer's Market which takes over a downtown parking lot on Saturday mornings (and now Wednesday evenings, too!). Usually we wander around, linger at a couple of booths but only buy a few things; and generally only in peak produce time. Not out of lack of interest or particularly unreasonable prices, but we just can't decide. 

So this year, we're trying something new: a CSA. 

CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture, which is one of the tastiest and economical win-win situations you can find! With a CSA you're buying "stock" in a farm. Your purchase gets you regular packages throughout the growing season and provides the farmer security that product will be sold. There are a variety of types of CSAs, most frequently of the fruit and veggie variety; but some include meats; and I've been particularly interested in a local grower's flower program. 

Let's talk about the finer points of why a CSA might be great for you and your family. 

1. Fresh, locally sourced items.

^^ Anxiety-free lettuce!
Courtesy of Deal Farms

Obviously, this is a win. Recently, the news has been awash with stories of food production workers who didn't wash and have spread infectious food-borne illnesses across the country. There was whatever the heck happened with Chipotle, a scary egg recall, and most recently an E. coli epidemic related to romaine lettuce. During LettuceGate, CDC officials recommended that people avoid commercial romaine, at restaurants and purchased in stores, and only consume lettuce when you knew EXACTLY where it was grown and who harvested/packaged it. I haven't worried about lettuce, because once a week, I drive down to the next town over and pick up a box containing veggies still covered in dirt and fuzz from the frost blankets. Oftentimes, the actual employee who picked it is there while I collect my goodies. 


2. Value - Price, Time and Experience 

I would say that you can't put a price on freshness and flavor. But...you totally can. And sometimes convenience and low-low cost means sacrificing quality. However, with a CSA the prices are generally lower than you'd find at their farm stand or at the market but with great quality. I recently saw a CSA offering Farmer's Market credit instead of pre-packaged weekly boxes and for a $300 season enrollment, you received over $350 in credit; so you're certainly saving. 

I mentioned before how I aimlessly wander through the Farmer's Market. I stop and stare at the pretty carrots that still have their tops, the vibrant radishes or the bushels of peaches (actually, no, I can't pass up peaches); yet I can rarely decide what I want. Many CSAs do the work for you; they're the original subscription box. Most groups offer you a limited variety of items from which you can pick (up to a weekly cost limit, or have it deducted from your total estimated value) but it's really Mother Nature's roulette - you're going to get what's in season and ready to pick. This saves me so much time and effort instead of pacing the market on Saturday mornings (but we still go to the farmer's market because...peaches and fresh bread and homemade soap). 

And like a new Blue Apron box, it's exciting. We're already getting items that I'm not sure what to do with, so we have to research, explore and try new things. This week, we got the biggest (but most beautiful) green onions and some Swiss chard (along with lettuce and strawberries). Both of which required some googling to find appropriate recipes (I think we're going to try a Swiss chard and green apple fritatta and some cheesy green onion breads) and we're excited to try new vegetables! 



3. Meaningful support of area agriculture 

Farming is hard and it's risky. And if you want proof of that, look only at the landscape of American farms - small, family farms are struggling to be as productive as commercial agriculture. 

My Papaw was a cabbage and cattle farmer and I loved being in the cabbage patch with our family setting the little plants and watching them turn in to heavy, leafy masses. But as beautiful as that was, I know my grandparents were nervous wrecks every year. You spend so much money up front for a product that may or may not turn out, and sometimes through no fault of your own. Too much or too little rain, sun, heat, wind etc. etc. can ruin a crop. And one bad year can set you back so much you can't buy the supplies the following year to literally dig out of debt. 

Hands down the best, juiciest berries I've had in ages.
#NoFilterNeeded

A CSA subscription lightens that farmer's load a little; it provides a pinch of security they wouldn't normally get. By purchasing a share you are guaranteeing that farm a sale. They don't have to open a stand or weather the market to sell their product; they know x amount will be moving. And the money can be an investment in making the best crops they can, which in turn, encourages you and others to buy additional items or be loyal subscribers. 

For example, we've had wild weather this year in our area and it stayed cold later than normal, so some planting was staggered. This meant that the only thing available in early- to mid-May was strawberries. Fortunately, we are a berry-loving household to begin with, and we were excited to try making freezer jam and Surry County sonker. Imagine if you were trying to sustain your farm on strawberries alone. It'd be terrifying. But having a known quantity of support (and people to take strawberries off your hands before they go to waste) could be crucial. 

Here's my shameless (unpaid, unsolicited) plug for our CSA provider: Deal Farms.  Millennial that I am, I learned about their CSA program via Facebook, but had purchased canning tomatoes (at a steal) from them last year. We opted to get a quarter share, which is supposed to be an allotment for a family of two every week for around five months. So far, it's been a fair amount of food, but we are still buying other produce. Now this may change as we get into peak harvest time but if we stay at this quantity the whole season we'll probably opt for a half-share next year. We have had three helpings of strawberries (at least two gallons worth!) plus the goodies pictured above, and everything has been DELICIOUS. Those strawberries are the best berries I've had in ages. Seriously, y'all, it's amazing the difference in flavor you have from berries that were picked early and shipped for hours or hundreds of miles (btw strawberries don't continue to ripen after picking). I can't do their fruit enough justice! If you're ever in Macon County, take a minute to pop by their stand! 

We're only a couple weeks into this adventure but we're already feeling like this was a good investment for our family. I encourage you to consider this as an option for yours. Visit your local farmer's market or seek out an area agricultural group; in WNC, Appalachian Sustainable Agriculture Project (ASAP) keeps lists of area CSAs and can refer you. 

A couple critical questions to ask when talking to providers: 

1. What is your estimated season?
2. How much food should we expect per box? 
3. What foods could we anticipate? 
4. Are the boxes standard or do we get to choose/"shop"? 
5. Is all payment required up front? 
6. How does pickup day work? Hours? Deliveries? 

Take Them a Meal - Like Cheesy Chicken Enchiladas!

We have a new baby in our church family and last night J and I delivered the new parents a meal. I've written about the importance of and tips for meal delivery before, but since having a child of our own, this has become a real passion for me. Y'all, look around yourself and search for the new parents and offer them a meal. I promise you, "it takes a village" means more than helping raise a baby, it means making sure the harried parents are actually eating and eating more than just Easy Mac. The same goes for families in mourning, dealing with extended illness, or otherwise in crisis. 

I don't know this family very well (yet?), so we're just bringing dinner and sides tonight, but meal delivery can be so much more, especially if it's someone you're close to. As I mentioned in my previous post, after the birth of my niece we provided a few dinners, some breakfast items, snacks and all the fixins to make my in-laws' lives easier. 

It doesn't have to be a great production. Feeding people, I believe is my love language; I take so much pleasure in knowing that my hands produced something that will nourish their bodies, and maybe their souls. But just thinking about a person or family in need can be the thing that helps them keep their head above water. And those little extras are especially useful. 

How does that proverb go? Bring a mom a casserole and she'll have dinner for a single night. But bring her a casserole, some frozen pizzas, a pint of ice cream, a tub of cookie dough, freezable muffins, and a Stouffers lasagna and she'll actually retain her sanity during the first newborn sleep regression or bout of colic or postpartum hell. 


Let's go over a couple really easy tips to make meal delivery better for everyone:

 
• Use recyclable or cheapo plastic containers. New mamas have zero time or brain cells to spend on remembering whose Pyrex is whose. 
• Include idiot-proof instructions for reheating etc. Again, the brains of folks in are almost worthless at this point. 
• Include all the working parts for your meal. If you're bringing bagged salad with your spaghetti, grab a bottle of dressing. If you're bringing frozen waffles, bring syrup, too. Who knows the last time they hit the store. 
• And if you know they're going through a particularly trying time, with lots of visitors and little time (or money) for shopping, consider including a pack of paper towels, plates or plastic cutlery. 
  
• If you're organizing repeated meals with a group, use a planning service like Take Them a Meal, where you can include specific instructions (address, preferred delivery time, dietary needs) and each volunteer picks their "shifts" and logs what they're bringing. Please don't bring 10 broccoli casseroles in a row. They aren't a sponsor of my blog, but I can't sing the praises of Take Them a Meal enough; it's a great help to the volunteers and the family expecting dinner. 

So we showered little Eli with some love and offered his parents a chance to sit down and eat a real meal. I'm used one of my favorite recipes, which is perfect for meal delivery and freezer friendly (so you could benefit, too!). 

For some reason, as a single twenty-something, I was subscribed to a Pillsbury mailing list for coupons and recipes (probably why I resemble the Doughboy a little more now). I found this chicken enchilada recipe way back when and realized, even when I was cooking for one, that it was a find. 

It's relatively inexpensive and the prep takes less than 20 minutes. It's so easy to prepare, I could probably stop pulling the recipe out. You make an enchilada sauce from the soup, sour cream, chilies and cumin; then mix in the chicken and cheese; roll your enchiladas and top with sauce. Since all of the ingredients are fully cooked, you only need to heat through and melt the cheese and it's done! 

I love this recipe because it allows me to be thrifty with my ingredients and really plan ahead. You know I love to pinch a penny and we try to be especially economical with meat. Your local supermarket deli likely reduces rotisserie chickens at the end of the day,  at our Walmart you can sometimes snag them for less than $3; or whenever you make "basic" chicken - like grilled or even fried chicken, without a lot of sauce or bold flavorings - you can shred/chop those leftovers and freeze in 2 cup portions. Having chicken on hand is perfect for soups, chicken salad, or enchiladas! 

And these enchiladas are HUGE and hearty. If I'm delivering a meal for 3+ family members, I usually buy the aluminum 8x8" pans with lids ($1 for two!) and it's a legit struggle to fit eight enchiladas in there. What I like to do at home is use my 8X4" narrow pans and make two packs of four enchiladas. This way, we have dinner tonight and a freezer pack for whenever we, or someone else, needs it. The small packs are perfect for little families, so having a couple of these waiting in the deep freeze is very convenient. And they do freeze beautifully. 

Since everything is fully cooked, you don't necessarily need to par-bake the dish (but you could, just for 15 minutes or so), then wrap thoroughly in foil. To prepare, thaw in the fridge the night before and then bake until hot (which does take a little bit longer than when everything's room temp). And for the love of Pete - WRITE THESE DIRECTIONS ON ALL YOUR FROZEN FOODS. 1. You'll know what the eff those stacked up aluminum pans are filled with and 2. you (or whomever you deliver them to; fresh or frozen) will know how to reheat. This is incredibly obvious and a total pain if you forget to do it...like I do ALL.THE.TIME. 

Courtesy of Pillsbury.com 

Even if you aren't planning a meal delivery and could care less about deep freeze meal prep, this is a great in-the-moment meal. The enchiladas feed a crowd, they're really flavorful - you really get the cumin and the chilies, and you can dress them up as much as you like with salsa, sour cream, guac etc. 

I like to serve mine with what my Venezuelan friend calls "Mexican salad" (now that's a sociology project for sure). It's greens and cucumbers topped with canned whole kernel corn, canned black beans (rinsed and drained), cheese, and crushed tortilla chips. For the dressing you mix a taco seasoning packet into ranch dressing. We're talking Taco Bell level of culinary accuracy, but it's so good. Who could turn down "fiesta ranch?" 

But in all seriousness, take a minute this week as you meal plan to see if anyone in your circle is hurting, stressed, totally drained or just in need of a night off from the stove. And offer to bring them a meal. Or a pie. Or a drop off a gift card to a local pizza joint. Your small amount of effort will make a huge impact on their life and show them how much you truly care. 

Winter 2.0: Time for Chili

Yup, daffodils & snow flurries. 

Remember last week when I was bouncing around in my sandals in the sunshine proclaiming that Spring was here? Well, then March started in like a lion with 50 mph winds and it snowed this morning. 

We should all be used to this already, North Carolina weather is notoriously fickle year-round. There have been years where I've worn short sleeves at Christmas and shivered through snow in my Easter dress. And I guarantee that those instances were met with drastically different weather the days before and after. It's just madness down here. 

So I'm officially withdrawing my Spring pronouncement and cancelling all spring menus until further proof of season-change is provided. I take back last week's bright surf 'n' turf salad and suggestions that you look for fresh produce and instead dive head first into warm, cheesy recipes. 

Let's start with a bowl of chili. 

I recently bragged that I was proud to have found two recipes to claim as my own; one for chicken noodle soup and the other for chili. I was saving my chili recipe so as to not give it away before my church's annual chili cook off; you know, because I was going to win. 

Spoiler alert: I didn't win, I didn't get honorable mention, but almost all of it was scraped out of the Crock Pot when we got ready to leave. It may not have won me another Summit Church title (still proud of being the Dessert Queen), but it is a tasty recipe. 

Chili is contentious. Folks like what they like and they don't want to deal with any nonsense outside of their chili definition. My dad's chili always has mushrooms, J's is made with beef and local sausage, a Texan girlfriend lives for no-bean chili. Up until recently, my chili loyalty went to whoever fed me the most (generally my dad #onlychildperks), but now I can boast a preference for my recipe. It started as a ground turkey chili, but is also good with lean beef; it's made with black beans; and you have to top it with green onions and sour cream. 

Because of my dad's kitchen sink chili - with meat, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, peppers, and onions - I tend to drift to a chunkier style of chili. Some recipes are more watery (and I mean that in the best way possible) with fewer ingredients beyond meat and tomatoes. That's edging into soup territory for me, so I appreciate that this recipe has lots of bits and pieces and retains a heartiness. Plus, the "secret" or at the very least, unexpected, ingredient - crushed tortilla chips - thickens the liquid further and pulls all the flavors together.

Photo courtesy of Food Network magazine

Food Network magazine, who originally produced what I'm now calling "my" chili, called this recipe "Quick Turkey Chili" and they were spot on. This recipe takes hardly any time and only one pot to prepare. 

Several years ago, I was the Fellowship Coordinator at our church and I had to organize all our monthly meals, including the Chili Cookoff. I remember a lady rushed in right before church started. She'd had a family emergency the night before and was frantically making her chili in front of me. She threw canned veggies, tomatoes, spices (including a Hidden Valley ranch packet?!?) into a Crock Pot, cranked it to High and left it to simmer for the hour-long worship service. And she won. By a landslide, according to our judges. I've rolled my eyes at that performance for years, but now, my recipe doesn't take much more effort. 

First you muddle the tomato paste and spices together to make a really aromatic lump, for lack of a better word, to create a flavorful base. You then literally dump everything else in to cook off (like your raw meat) or to simmer and meld together. The starch from the tortilla chips acts as a binder and pulls everything together as it simmers. Then you add a punch of flavor with some extra green onions. It couldn't be easier. Unless of course it was... but you have to be extra thoughtful in your grocery shopping and meal prepping. 

As you may know, J & I are on different work schedules which saves us a bundle on day care costs, but also means we have to be incredibly organized in our meal planning for everyone to eat healthy, homemade food. To do so, we plan out a week's worth of lunches and dinners and make one big weekly shopping trip (goal: bi-monthly or even monthly shopping excursions). We peruse sale papers; make monthly trips to a bigger city to hit Aldi, Trader Joes, and/or Sam's Club; and try to get the best deals on what we think are smart purchases. We try to stick to our weekly lists, but especially on our monthly Asheville trips, we'll stock up on items that are on a good sale or we know we'll use.

You have to be smart and think big picture. If peppers are on sale [often Aldi will have them for $1.50/3-pack (even the more pricey colored ones!)], buy several to bring home, dice, and freeze in one-pepper-portions for later. In dishes like chili, peppers will be soft anyway, you don't lose any texture by pre-freezing (and you won't need to thaw them, either). 

Also, this recipe (and most soup recipes) makes around a half-gallon of finished product. I divide it right away into freezer-safe quart containers (these are 50 cents each at Dollar Tree or use freezer bags and lay flat on cookie sheets in the freezer, then you can stack them like books!). One quart usually feeds us for a lunch and dinner apiece (plus a baked potato) and I can immediately freeze the other quart for later. 

If you think making this chili is fast, you won't believe how fast it is to just thaw a quart! 

Spring Forward with Fresh Eats!

Spring is upon us already in Western North Carolina. Despite a recent dip back into cool temperatures, the trees are budding, daffodils are blooming, and my baby boy is knee-deep in puddles at the park. 

I'm much more fond of the moderate seasons - Spring and Fall - and they both energize me. Fall pushes me to do all the #basic activities like apple picking, pumpkin carving (pumpkin everything, really), baking all the cinnamon-y things, and breaking out my infinity scarves and duck boots. However, Spring makes me want sweeping changes in my life. 

Saturday was a gorgeous, warm day and I took baby for a stroll downtown. As we walked, I daydreamed of all the Spring Cleaning - literal and metaphorical - that I want to do. Update the curb appeal of our house with plants, patio furniture and string lights; buy a whole new classy/cute mom wardrobe; schedule more (any?) dinner parties; commit to buying a bouquet of cut flowers every week...the list goes on and on, just like the bill. 

CSA = Community Supported Agriculture
You buy "stock" in a farm & get regular shares
 of produce throughout the growing season.
You support local farms & get the freshest produce,
often at much cheaper than supermarkets.
Area farming organizations, like ASAP,
can help you find a CSA in your area. 

Spring also changes the way I want to eat. Maybe Lenten scarcity (man, I miss deep-fried food!) is part of it; but I think the upcoming abundance of fresh produce makes me most eager to lighten things up. I want to eat brighter, more vibrant flavors, with less of an emphasis on warm, gooey comfort foods and more on flavors, textures, and ingredients that invigorate me. 

J has already jumped into this Spring eating, using Lent as an opportunity to do a Whole 30 (40+), which is already veggie-heavy, but is a smorgasbord of freshness in spring and summer. And we're signing up for our first CSA, too! 

To celebrate spring this weekend, we made one of my go-to warm weather recipes: a surf and turf salad. I know what you're thinking, "Salad. How original. Yippee for roughage." But really, this is a delicious, filling, and easy meal. And despite its fancy appearance - perfect to wow a crowd or a date - it's surprisingly affordable. 

I shared a link to this Food Network Magazine (FNM) recipe in 2016 when I was just beginning to cook with a newborn baby on my hip/screaming in my ear/precariously lolling his (giant) head around. The point of the post was sharing tips on how to manage the steep learning curve of parenthood: how on Earth do you cook healthy, quality meals AND keep the small humans alive? This salad was a lifesaver during that transition. 

The body of the salad rests on a bed of assorted greens. FNM recommends mixing baby spinach, watercress, torn frisee, and fresh chives. But you could use practically any greens you prefer (except iceberg because I refuse to consider that a real vegetable) and I swap in green onions, too. That quick swap to bagged spring mix and scallions saves several bucks and minutes. 

Next, you prepare a homemade vinaigrette. The mustard (we used whole grain/brown for Whole 30 compliance) make the dressing burst with bright flavor and pairs so beautifully with the meat. 

#TruthHurts

Now, before you snarl your nose, let me tell you to get over yourselves about the anchovies. Yes, they're bizarre little bony canned fish. And they are the butt of any pizza commentary (second only to you pineapple pizza people). But they impart SO MUCH unctuous, briny flavor. You should always have a can in your pantry to use in pastas, sauces, and dressings; just don't share your secret with your guests. 

Marinate the steak in half of the dressing for at least an hour; I find this recipe makes too much dressing for us, so I only make half. FNM calls for flank steak. Now let me be honest with you dear readers: I know diddly squat about cuts of beef. J, who just became a certified Kansas City Barbecue Society judge this weekend, knows a fair amount about pork cuts; but we're both fairly clueless about beef, especially steak. We pick out steaks by appearance and yes, price, at the deli counter. With that said, I think you can "upgrade" or simplify this recipe to fit any budget. Steaks go through a well-defined sale cycle at supermarkets (think: Valentine's Day and "grilling holidays" like 4th of July or Memorial Day) so keep an eye out for sales on fancy cuts (and freeze) or grab whatever you prefer. This week, we bought small steaks and they set us back about $4. They were thin, but not papery like breakfast steaks, so it was harder to get that medium temp because they cooked so quickly; but they brought plenty of flavor. 

Refer to this; I have a serious beef-cut-knowledge deficit. 

Then, parboil some small potatoes. We've used fingerlings, new potatoes, and red potatoes. Again, choose to fit your budget and your presentation. Fingerlings - or even mini colored potatoes - look a bit fancier, but they all have a very similar taste in this preparation. 

Finally, finish off with a quick grill session. I've found putting the shrimp and potatoes directly on the grill to be a total pain because they're just small enough to slip through the grate, so I highly recommend using foil packs (you won't get the pretty char), kabob-ing (which is time-consuming), or using a grilling basket. 

This makes for a delicious spread - tender steak, fresh shrimp, soft potatoes - it really is everything you'd hope for in a surf 'n' turf platter, plus vibrant greens and tangy dressing. Pair this with a slice of grilled crusty bread and a good beer or cider and you're set for Spring or Summer! 

And it's visually stunning. Spread out on a big platter or arranged in individual shallow bowls, it looks like an elevated dish, even though it only cost a few bucks and less than 30 minutes of cook time. This is what I would will serve at the Spring dinner parties I'm imagining planning. I also think it will have a place at our Easter table where I crave clean, Spring freshness fit for our Sunday best (plus peanut butter cake). 

MY First Comfort Food Recipe

Always incorporating food
into our adventures -
Homemade ice cream at the
Knoxville Farmers' Market

I enjoy cooking, serving, and eating food. Heck, I even enjoy incorporating food into my other hobbies - like reading cookbooks or cooking magazines, or you know, writing this very blog. Despite all of that interest, love, and time, I was still disappointed in my relationship with food because something was lacking: an achievement I hadn't quite reached. 

There are lots of things I love to cook and that I make well, but I'd never call them "mine." I've longed for "my" recipes. You know, the ones that when my Baby is grown, he'll call and say "Mom, how do you make your ...?" and I'll pull out a raggedy stained recipe - that I no longer use, because it's pure muscle memory now - to hand off to him. 

I think most people have that kind of food association with the people they love. There's some recipe that will always be associated with, and tasted best when prepared by, your nana, husband, mama, or next-door neighbor. It might be from scratch, semi-homemade, or maybe even take-out they served in just the right way. 

My dad has a gift for cooking outstanding fried chicken. He uses boneless chicken breast tenders for these "Daddy Nuggets." They're best served with rice, gravy, and tiny "baby biscuits" (which are mine ONLY; y'all eat the full-sized ones). Or maybe his best dish is his "Daddy Burgers" (Seeing a pattern here? Only child + Daddy's girl); they're better than any restaurant burger I've ever had. 

Mom makes the best tomato + Velveeta baked pasta (sorry, no affectionate name here. I called it "Barf" as a kid, for looks alone). And her beef stroganoff is humble, simple, and THE BOMB. Despite all logic, Dad's attempts to elevate it with homemade sauce and fresh peppers fall short. 

And J makes the best meatballs. Period. The funny thing is, they're from his Mamaw's recipe, but she has zero recollection of every making them...so they're certainly his now!

But I wanted MY recipes. Things Baby will specifically request, like I do with beef strogranoff: "No, Dad; I want Mama to make it!"

Sunday at The Summit

First, I wanted my own chili recipe. I was raised on - you guessed it - my Dad's chili. Every winter, he'd get out the gigantic pasta pot (now the electric turkey roaster - efficiency, y'all) to make gallons of chili. We'd freeze it and eat homemade chili year-round. Then, I married J who had his own distinct and delicious recipe. And we're members of a church whose core tenants are: 1. The Great Commandment, 2. The Great Commission and 3. January = Chili Cook-Off time. So, I've seen the depth and breadth of the definition of chili. And how attached folks are to their chili. There are hardcore camps: beans vs. no beans, beef vs.turkey vs. veggie vs. venison, spicy vs. mild; and Lord, all the secret ingredients!

The good news is, after much tinkering, I've found MY chili recipe. However, I'm not sharing that with you today. The Cook-Off is this Sunday and I'm not giving these goods away. Who knows, maybe I'll report back with my "prize-winning" recipe. 

Next, I wanted to have a signature comfort food. I know this is a broad category covering all types/courses/flavors of food. I want it to be something Baby and Hubs request when they're sick or had a rough day or just need a reminder of a warm, loving home. And I've found it, perhaps in the most cliche, comforting sick-day food: chicken noodle soup! 

My lil' star face! 

Baby is an adventurous eater and will try anything, but this kid LOVES soup. Maybe it's the fun slurpy    noise or the warmth or his lazy refusal to chew,    but this first time I made this, he cried until I fed it to him, straight from the pot...for breakfast. And I don't blame him, it's delicious. 

Instead of long noodles like Campbell's or egg noodles, this recipe uses the cutest pasta option: stars! The original recipe is designed for "pastina," a generalized name for the smallest pasta shapes. There are a variety of teeny tiny shapes, but I prefer stelline pastina, shaped like itty bitty stars. Using pastina is obviously adorable, but adds great texture to the soup, too. The veggies are all similar tiny cuts which makes for a better mouthfeel. And c'mon, we all need a bowl of whimsy sometimes. (See PRO TIP below.)

I used a hunk of this 5 lb. Grana Padana cheese I won
in a Splendid Table drawing. I've frozen hunks of it for
recipes just like this that need a little fancy cheese. 

The soup is incredibly quick (less than 30 minutes) and easy to prepare (under 10 ingredients), but has deep developed flavors. You saute the trinity (carrots, celery, onions), then add thyme, chicken broth (see PRO TIP below) and the secret ingredient: a 2-inch piece of Parmesan rind. That may sound bizarre, but it adds a great nuttiness and saltiness, making your soup taste like it simmered for hours. If you can't get Parmesan rind, be sure to garnish your bowls with grated Parmesan. But I highly recommend the rind; grocery stores with an actual cheese counter normally sell rind for fairly cheap (and it keeps in the freezer for ages). Or, kill two birds with one stone and splurge on a little wedge and use every inch of the cheese. 

This was originally a meat-less recipe (could be vegetarian, if you swap in veggie broth), but the first time I made it, I tossed in leftover rotisserie chicken - GAME CHANGER. We buy chicken a lot - even the cuts we don't normally prepare for entrees - just to shred for enchiladas, soups, curries, or chicken salad. Grocery stores normally mark down rotisserie chickens in the evening, which we'll occasionally buy, shred and freeze in two-cup servings. Shredded chicken is certainly one of our pantry (freezer) staples and fits this dish so well. Makes it a little more filling, but not heavy, and adds extra texture, too. 

When you're looking for a simple dinner-in-a-hurry that tastes like low-and-slow comfort food, this soup is just right. But be sure to give me credit; it is MINE, after all. 

Week Ten: A Cake to Close the Year

If you've followed along for a few weeks or from the beginning (God bless you), you've watched me burn out on baking (pun intended). I've gone from giddy excitement to busy curiosity to near dread for baking, eating and writing about cake.

J asked me earlier this week "So, what will your last cake be?" I actually flung my head back and groaned out loud, not unlike our 18 month-old. And I had no answer. I'd done no pre-planning and no Pinterest research, much less cracking an actual cookbook.

However, January's Our State magazine (a wonderful periodical about all things North Carolina) included a peanut butter cake recipe. I haven't made a peanut butter cake yet, I had almost all the ingredients already, it required no fancy equipment or talents, and it could be made in a casserole dish without decoration. Sold.

But reading the recipe caption really sealed my choice and is what makes it the perfect way to end both this challenge and the year.

Photo courtesy of Our State magazine

Their beautiful photo is captioned "In grade school, recipe writer developer Lynn Wells always looked forward to peanut butter cake day in the cafeteria. Now, she shares her recipe (for School Days Peanut Butter Cake)." 

I had to do some research. I asked my parents if they remembered eating peanut butter cake at school. My mom was wide-eyed and excited, gushing over her school cakes; then crushed that I hadn't brought her a slice. I also remember hearing both of them talk about amazing cafeteria brownies. Then, because the universe's timing is hilarious, my friends' mother shared a similar recipe ("Lunch Lady Cookie Bars") on facebook and mentioned how much she loved eating this at school as a little girl.

This baffles me. I can't recall anything resembling dessert being served at school (beyond fruit cocktail or the "good" snacks which cost extra) and I was in school pre-Obama lunch rules (seriously, thanks Michelle Obama. I love you.). And I don't remember a single thing that stood out to me as homemade; it all seemed so processed and pre-packaged. 

The majority of my cafeteria memories from elementary school revolved around the tyrannical cafeteria manager, Mrs. Burns. 

Unfortunately, I never encountered her much again after 8th grade and don't know anything about her personal life. But as a kid, she was terrifying. The seemingly ancient lady frequently yelled at us waving a menacing wooden spoon, and gave every appearance of hating her job, and probably us, too.

She was always dressed professionally in crisp white scrubs, there were never major snafus in the lunch line, everyone had enough to eat, and her staff were excellent (good cop/bad cop?). Yet, she was a nightmare.

However, now I'm an adult and a mom and I kinda get it. In hindsight, she was probably approaching retirement age. Mrs. Burns' cafeteria ran like a well-oiled machine because she'd had a lot of practice. She knew what worked and what didn't. But she was probably OVER.IT.

I only have one child and even microwaving a crappy meal usually ends in yelling and/or tears from at least one person. I can't imagine spending a day catering to hundreds of loud, messy, and generally awful picky eaters.

And given what I know now about professional life, being a lunch lady probably provided her little perks. Like being a janitor or secretary, food service can be a really thankless career - especially when you're feeding seemingly ungrateful kids. Despite being one of the most regulated positions in a school, there is little respect from coworkers, the Board of Ed, or State Office of Human Resources (read: K-12 teachers are gods compared to other state employees).

She might have started her career happy, excited to see sweet babies grow up under her care. But by 1993, Mrs. Burns was probably tired, overworked, underpaid, and suffering from a non-stop tension headache following years of lunchroom chatter.

And we've all been there - in our jobs, our relationships, our parenting, or even in our hobbies. The things we loved, that we actually wanted to spend time doing, which we're good at, become burdensome, boring or exhausting. We end up spending more time dreading going to work or yelling at our kids than we do celebrating our accomplishments or making good memories. 

But here we are, approaching a new year where we can re-prioritize our life!

This challenge - to bake a cake every week for ten weeks - has allowed me to see how I need to better manage my time to improve my life. I'm the worst to take on too much and stress. I think I'm so busy, that I never have any time. And sometimes, it's tight. We go and go on the weekends, trying to cram as many chores, trips, and family activities into 2.5 days. Sometimes I push too hard and turn fun into obligation ("WE WILL DO XYZ. IT WILL BE MAGICAL AND WE WILL LOVE IT, DAMNIT.") 

Using Goodreads.com's annual Reading Challenge widget

But then I look back at this year. I've struggled a lot as a new mom to find my groove between getting things done and enjoying myself. But then I see that I did find the time for things that really mattered or made me the happiest. 

Somehow, I managed to bake 10 cakes during the busiest time of year and I wrote about each cake, too! Magically, I was able to read 25 books this year (my long-shot goal was to read 15)! We went to DC for a few days; we took two weeks of  Baby Swim Class; I threw J a great 30th birthday party, the list goes on and on. Because we made time for it; even when it wasn't easy to do so. 

So I encourage you, to take some time to reconnect with the sweetness of life - your kids, your interests, delicious homemade recipes - and savor it. 2018 is sure to have its hardships - every year does - but don't allow yourself to be bogged down in the mire. Seek the passion you had early in your career or marriage, remind yourself of your talents, and make your joy a priority. 

Hopefully, Mrs. Burns was able to find peace and relaxation after my tenure in K-8; but I beg you to not wait that long. 

P.S. Don't take this to mean I'll keep baking a cake every week. Screw that. We are officially out of butter and I quit. 

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I'M FINISHED! Hallelujah! I did it. 

To recap: 

Week 1: Coconut Cream Poke Cake 

Week 2: Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting 

Week 3: Orange Chiffon Cake with Candied Zest 

Week 4: Upside Down Banana Toffee Cake 

Week 5: Maple Bundt Cake 

Week 6: Little French Fudge Cakes 

Week 7: Tomato Soup Cake 

Week 8: Sufganiyot 

Week 9: Chocolate Yule Log 

Week 10: School Days Peanut Butter Cake from Our State 

I chose this week's recipe on a whim and praise the Lord it turned out to be incredibly easy and wonderfully delicious! I would highly recommend this recipe for any get together and especially for events where you're in a pinch for time and/or money, but need to feed a crowd quickly. This might become my go-to potluck/Church dinner cake. 

The technique is certainly easy and fast, but it is a bit bizarre. For the cake, you melt butter into a saucepan of water and boil. Then you add peanut butter, oil, buttermilk, eggs and vanilla. I'm familiar with the wet into dry ingredient method, but I don't exactly understand the science of the boiling... but whatever, it's pure wizardry. It makes for a very wet, loose batter, but it cooks into a perfect, airy spongey cake. 

Only a few things are worth waking up early:
Cake and WNC sunrises top the list

In my very limited research (ahem just comparing this recipe to the similar 12 Recipes version), I've found a difference in including crunchy peanut butter or sticking only to creamy. I haven't tried creamy-only, but I LOVE the texture the few small peanut bits adds to the cake. I'd expected the crunchy to be used in the frosting, but it's great in the cake itself. 

The frosting also involves a bit of boiling, but it's a breeze to make. Pouring the hot frosting onto the warm cake allows a bit to seep in deeper into the sponge. But as it cools it hardens only a bit - not quite like those amazing fudge icings Southern grandmas can make in their sleep. It's silky and sweet (you could probably cut back on the powdered sugar by 1/2 - 1 c, actually) and is just the right thickness across the cake. 

And I love to be the bearer of wonderful news: this cake is even better the next day. We put ours in the fridge - again, more food science I don't understand: what desserts should/shouldn't go back in the ice box? - and it was terrific the next morning. The frosting got a little crispier and I swear the flavors deepened overnight. 

#NoFilter #Flawless #Awkward

Allegedly this makes 24 pieces of cake; they had to make it go far in a cafeteria (and not pump all the kiddos with sugar and butter midday). But you absolutely have my permission to cut it into 12 pieces...or 6... or sit down with the dish on your lap and a binge-worthy show (oh, these accidental puns). 

Seriously, file this one away, y'all. I think it's in my top three for this challenge. 

Here we are. At the end. My butter, sugar and AP flour stockpiles have been depleted and my energy is spent. I'm relieved and ready to relax for awhile. As this cake cooled, I put on my fleece onesie (stretchy clothes are a must for now), slippers and a carbonated clay face mask (copious amounts of butter = a desperate pore situation) to fully come off of my baking high. 

Thanks for sticking with me for the last ten weeks. I'm proud I got through it and glad you joined me. More to come in 2018! But not cake...or not much. 

Week Nine: The Showstopping Yule Log

Do you watch The Great British Baking Show? I certainly hope so. If you don't, you ought to. It's on PBS (in America) and there are currently four seasons streaming on Netflix. 

British TV, in general, is a delight; from Monty Python to Fawlty Towers to Coupled to a zillion reincarnations of Doctor Who to Sherlock to Downton Abbey (my Winter Break binge) to Call the Midwife, it's all gold! But this show is particularly wonderful and a really under-appreciated TV food market: nice people making nice things. 

The premise is home bakers compete to win title of Best British Baker, not for a bazillion dollars or crazy fame, but an etched cake stand. The challenges are daunting and difficult but the people are so freaking nice. No one is sabotaging; they waste no time with alliances, mudslinging or the other dramatic bullshit we see on 99% of competition shows (I'm looking at you, Cutthroat Kitchen...which I also enjoy); it's all about hard work and supporting each other. 

Each episode includes three challenges: 

1. A signature bake where they have to meet x criteria (like make 48 identical biscuits aka cookies) but they can choose flavors etc.
2. A technical challenge where the splendid judges/British baking heroes, Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood, provide incredibly vague instructions for the bakers to replicate classic dishes (make a jam, make a batter, bake...= jaffa cake)
3. The showstopper, again with x criteria (a gingerbread centerpiece that is at least a foot tall with four separate pieces) where they are expected to go above and beyond any level of sane baking

These challenges never cease to amaze me - beyond that British baking is steeped in so much (delicious) history - but also because of the wide range of skills needed to produce these beautiful, flavorful dishes. And this week, we made our own showstopper. 

It's something I've only really seen in the past few years, and have only tried twice - with a clearanced Walmart version last year and an annual tradition at The Hop Ice Cream Cafe - but have been too terrified to try to make: bouche noel aka yule log, or according to Great British, a roulade.

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It's Week Nine and I am legit over this. So over it, in fact, I enlisted a guest baker this week - the Hubs. I never thought I'd get sick of cake, but...here we are. 

Looking at the calendar, it
looks like we missed a week,
 but eff it. I've made and eaten
 nine stupid cakes.

To recap the last two months' cakes: 

Week 1: Coconut Cream Poke Cake 

Week 2: Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting 

Week 3: Orange Chiffon Cake with Candied Zest 

Week 4: Upside Down Banana Toffee Cake 

Week 5: Maple Bundt Cake 

Week 6: Little French Fudge Cakes

Week 7: Tomato Soup Cake 

Week 8: Sufganiyot 

Week 9: Chocolate Yule Log  as found in Kraft's Food & Family

A yule log is basically a Little Debbie Swiss Roll disguised as a log. Sounds delish, right? Ok, maybe not, but they're so stinkin' cute! I've seen them covered in ganache with wood grain "carved" in, or white icing + cocoa powder and stencils to make birch trees, or detailed piping. The log-o-flauge can be quite time consuming, but that is second only to the tedious nature of the cake itself. 

I remember making a jelly roll cake once as kid, I was maybe 13. It stuck to the towel, cracked and was overbaked, total disaster; and I haven't made once since....speaking of which, does it really count that I've made another, since I had J do it? Dang. 

But this recipe isn't as daunting as I'd feared. The cake was a fairly standard sponge recipe, and it cooked for less than 10 minutes. The rolling was a bit nerve-wracking, but since it was iced and covered in chocolate "bark," cracking could be easily forgiven, if not just hidden. 

It looked AMAZING on our table. It was very realistic (for a cake masquerading as a log), and despite my perfectionist, artist husband's comments about how he'd done his grain incorrectly, I thought it was perfect! 

The recipe even included instructions for a yule log's perfect companion - mushrooms! They are mushrooms made from jumbo marshmallows. Fair warning, however: you will be so tongue tied you'll call both marshmallows and mushrooms the wrong thing for days (I've had to retype the last two sentences several times already). 

Another tip, enjoy the cute rolled up precious log while you can. Because you have to hack the hell out of it to cut a slice. Just like Paul Hollywood butchers the edible art on Baking Show, you'll need to be ruthless and just murder your beautiful log. But it's so tasty, from the soft cake to the sweet filling to the delicious bark, you'll have little time for regrets about knife skills. 

After last week's disastrous attempt to make something from an unfamiliar, daunting ingredient/process (dry active yeast) which yielded an absolute failure, it was wonderful to see another equally scary recipe turn out so beautifully. Perhaps it had something to do with my exceptional guest baker? 

I wouldn't kick him (the tall one) out of the kitchen...
I frequently kick the little one out, however.

One week left to go in the ten weeks of cake, dear readers. And as happy as I'll be to say goodbye to the bizarre year that was 2017, I'll be equally happy to stop baking, researching, writing about and eating cake...for awhile.