Category Archive

I got a grill last weekend and I’m a little obsessed.  First night:  Grill everything in the fridge:

Grilled potatoes and onions are among the best things on earth.  I think I grilled and ate 6 whole onions over the course of the last 3 days.  We even grilled dessert that first night:

Second night, broccoli and tofu marinated in Soy Vey Teriyaki and grilled, served over rice.  YUM!

Tonight, pizza!   The kids got the usual tomatoes and cheese and it was fantastic.  But Steve and I had roasted tomatoes and fennel and red onions on ours.   oh….yummy.  It was a Cooks Illustrated recipe.  I’ll link you, but you may need to be a member to see it.  I have an on-line subscription and it’s so worth it.

So, grill mavens–tips?  must-grills?  As you see, we have your standard kettle charcoal grill.  and remember–no critter.

Steve flew to California today and had to sit next to this guy.  He was even wearing the purple suit covered in question marks.  “I had absolutely nothing to say to him,” said Steve.  No?  Not “dude.  Seriously.  What the hell?”  or “So…Batman still up in your face?”  Or I know! “If there’s so much money just laying around for the taking, why are you flying coach?”

We need a new segment.  So, with a reverential nod to “Steve, don’t eat it!” I bring you:

Hey, kids!  Try this!

When I shop at the Asian Market, I am always just bowled over by the amount of weird crap they sell.  Weird crap that, presumably, someone eats.  They are packed to the rafters with products from Korea, China, Taiwan, Vietnam, Japan, India…So with such a wide clientele to please, they must be choosing what to buy, not just saying “eh, fill up a shipping carton with what you have,” so these must be things that they assume are desired.  Apparently squid, in its many forms, is a hotly desired product.  Pressed, chipped, dried, frozen, pickled…Short of “dipped in chocolate on a stick” I’ve not seen a way it isn’t prepared.  Alas, my vegetarian children are not willing to be subjected to squid, but they ARE almost always willing to try new things that might be sweet.  So today, while buying fresh tofu and frozen dumplings, I got some snacks.

First up:

“Toasted Wheat Cake” also “with purple yam and crispy young rice”  Yet they are wrapped like bon-bons.  How can we resist?  This snack from the Philippines is stamped “Export Quality”–so at least there’s quality control.  We unwrap one.  It’s really pale and looks like pressed whole wheat flour:

Tentative tasting…and YUM!  The texture is just divine, it crumbles to powder and then melts in your mouth.  The flavor is also great and kind of familiar.  I look at the ingredients: Wheat Flour, skim milk, cane sugar, purple yam powder, pounded young rice, and butter.  Oh, it’s shortbread.  Well there you go.  It is met with “Can I have another!” from all three kids.  Sorry children, we have science to do.

Next up, Barquiron!

…with cashew nuts!  Also wrapped like candy.  Also an Export Quality product of the Phillipines (which, I’ve decided, we should pronounce phil-IP-pin-nees.  While I”m getting things pronounced).  Unwrapping these gets a lot of squeals as they are  very crumbly when broken. When whole, they seem to be a cookie with something powdery (and not unlike the wheat cake) inside.

Taste?  Good.  Almost very good, but so close on the heels of those yummy shortbread things that it doesn’t quite measure up.  But tasty and of an interesting texture, which is always good for a bonus point.  All three agree that the wheat cakes are better, though.

And finally, remaining in the Phillipines, but straying from the comfort of Export Quality food, We get:

Regardless of how they turn out, I think “cracker nuts” needs to enter conversation.  “Dude, she went totally cracker nuts on me!”  I was hoping for Adobo flavor, but I was denied.  These are nuts in a thin crispy shell.  Kind of….crackery.  There’s a slightly spicy powder on them, but nothing smoky.

sorry it looks a bit “last known photo.”  Ben loved them.  I kind of like them but think the aftertaste is pretty nasty.  The girls were unimpressed.  They are all looking forward to finishing dinner to score another wheat cake.

Tonight was a Chilean feast, featuring an argument with my 8 year old about the proper pronunciation of Chile. “Chil-lay” says I, and not even with a thick Jimmy Smits on SNL accent. “Mom. It’s Chilly,” he informs me. No, I tell him, it is Chil-lay and if you go to that country I assure you they are not calling the place “chilly” (in fact, they may be calling it El chupacabre for all I know, and I don’t call Germany “Deutschland” so who knows why I’ve taken this stand, but still). He informed me, complete with eyeroll, that his teachers call it Chilly and that is correct. Grr. I am the Mother. I know all! When those teachers feed you and step on your damned legos trying to come read to you at night, THEN they can determine how we shall pronounce the names of South American countries!

The food was less obstreperous (I feel like I’ve just used that word recently in a post…did I ? It’s a good word, but mustn’t over use. Esp when mis-using), I made Empanandas from the Sundays at Moosewood cookbook. And the salsa and Mushroom Stuffed Eggs from the same book. All were super yummy. Pretty far off my current course of eating, but I tried to show restraint. Steve declared the salsa the Best Ever, so that was a hit. All hail Muir Glen Fire Roasted Tomatoes!

In other news…I’m currently listening to Jonathon Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke. I’m enjoying it well enough, but it was praised to the heavens when it came out. I’m not loving it and I wonder if it’s partly due to the fact that I’m listening. I think I’ll go get the book tomorrow and see if that enhances my enjoyment. It’s a great conceit with really interesting characters. It’s set in England in the early 1800s, and the basic notion is that in the Renaissance or there abouts, magic was real. It disappeared, for reasons not yet revealed to me, and has begun to re-emerge. It’s gothic and funny and mysterious. When I listen while driving (for example the nearly 3 hours I spent driving to get a guinea pig to and from the vet to have a cyst removed. A wee little growth that was causing no harm. Oy.), I can pay full attention, but when I try to listen while I do things in the house, I lose part of it. I can listen to podcasts of The Bugle or Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me with no trouble, but I think I need to hold weightier books in my hand. I just got some P.G. Wodehouse to load onto the ol’ ipod, that’s light enough to listen to.

Lord, I feel like Andy Rooney is blogging for me lately.

I wore my Dickinson sweatshirt while I was working car line yesterday. I got several “Oh did you go there? My husband/brother/niece goes/went there.” Never anyone I overlapped with. Today, a woman I’m friendly with came up and said, “I saw you in that Dickinson sweatshirt, did you go there?” I said yes. “When did you graduate?” 89. “OMG! Me too!” I told her that she’s always looked kinda vaguely familiar to me, but I’ve re-encountered so many people from Julianna’s baby years ad then there are just some people who look like lots of people. “What was your major?” Psych and American Studies. “I was Psych!” I kind of apologetically told her that I was a drama person, not “greek” and thus didn’t know everyone. “I was a Delta Nu.” Okay, the one sorority I actually knew a lot of people in. “I used to hang out at Phi Ep” The one fraternity I actually went into. Her kids were there, I wanted to say, “Did you loan me a lighter?” or “Did I barf on you?” We determined that our areas of focus in psych didn’t overlap, so while we may have had intro classes together, we likely didn’t after that. She was probably one of the people in the Abnormal Psych class that thought we must be having a test on the rare days that I showed up…What was I thinking scheduling an 8 am class? I mean, really. I asked Stacey (a Delta Nu) if she remembered her, and she said she thinks she had “big brown hair.” I wanted to look her up, but my yearbook is in hiding, apparently. Steve’s yearbook photo is on the 1988 Alumni Reunion page though…Find him? Hint: he’s not the small, stuffed one, but you’re close.

Dinner was a tasty stew from Belize and a nasty soup from Columbia.

Tonight we dined in Brazil. This stew was quite delicioso. We also had cheese potatoes from my Global Vegetarian book. They were a very big hit. I, of course, only had a taste or two. Gotta tell you, finding vegetarian chow in South and Central America is a challege. Sure you have beans and rice and quesadillas, but there’s only so much of that one can take. If nothing else all this global eating is telling where it would be good to travel as a vegetarian. Africa, Middle East, India–no problem! Eastern Europe, South America? Not so much.

Catching up a bit…Ben is sporting that one front tooth gone, one coming in look that I love:

and yes, he is still wearing the piece of yarn and beads he got at Field Day last June. See his fabulous haircut? I took the kids to The Temple for a trim over Spring Break. Ben’s bangs are a bit shorter. Lily is unchanged. But Julianna went shorter and layered. Then the stylist straightened it, which was weird:

She didn’t wash it for 3 days, knowing it would spring back up. She has come to terms with it now, thank goodness, b/c it looked a bit weird, honestly.

And, um…I’m UTTERLY uninspired. Go read Stuff White People Like.

We concluded our African cuisine week with Ethiopian food–one of my favorites.  I made two different stews, one lentil, one vegetable based, both out of Sundays at Moosewood Restaurant.   The book suggested serving them together, which is traditional and all, but they were spiced almost identically.  Luckily it was good, but really there could have been some variety.  Kids loved it, including the friend Julianna brought home.  The injera didn’t come out as well as I’d hoped, but it’s tricky stuff.  It’s a flat, spongey pancake used to pick up the food.  The kids were all over that aspect, but my injera wasn’t really up to the task.  I had teff flour, but it wasn’t freshly groud and apparently it loses its natural rising powers or something?  So I used a recipe that called for baking soda and club soda and we ended up scooping our W’et with thin flat Irish soda bread.  I’m a child of the world, baby.

…was Morocco.  We honeymooned in Tenerife, which is off the coast of Morocco, owned by Spain, and largely populated with the English.  But tonight, Moroccan food!  We had a cous-cous, the national dish, made with fake beef chunks from May-Wah instead of lamb.  It was yummy, and fairly well received.  Also had Dukkah, which would have been better if I’d had proper hazelnuts instead of these weird Chilean hazelnuts from Trader Joes.  We finished with Moroccan Date Cake with generous squirts of Whipped Cream.  Right now, I have teff flour in a bowl, hopefully fermenting, so that I can make injera and round off our week with an Ethiopian meal.  I might need to do a week on/week off, though.  Travel, while broadening, is exhausting.

Only in Kenya.  Turns out it’s also a good place for slimy spinach.  We had a bad leg on our journey.  It was bound to happen, I suppose.  I made Kenyan Corn, Bean, and Spinach Mash which really did sound good to me, but…wasn’t.  The spinach was slimy.  Slimy is not an acceptable food texture.  The Garbanzo stew was good, but I didn’t make enough, so I plumped it out by stirring up left over rice and veggie sausage.  The mango snow for dessert was good, but since it is made of mangoes and cream, I’m not surprised.

This morning, when she awoke, Lily said to me “I dreamed that I was at Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends [TV show] and there was a guy that turned into a giant vulva.”

Me, sure I had heard wrong, r’s and a’s are hard to distinguish: Revolver?

Lily: Nooo [implied "you idiot"], a VULVA.  And the giant vulva was chasing a spider.

oKAY.  And she referred to the Vulva as “he.”  So make of it what you will.

For those of you with an unnatural interest in what I eat, I’ve started a semi-blog about my breakfast smoothies.  Check it:  Ugli Shax

…well, no it isn’t. It’s Africa still. We did the Western Region today, blithely ignoring Ellen’s suggestion that we eat the groundnut stew (I think it may show up later in the week, and I can have moderate amounts of peanut). We had Nigerian Okra and Plantain stew, which suprised me by actually being good. Everyone liked it. The Futari, which I thought was going to be the big hit–I remembered getting it at Boma (the only place at Disney I’d care to go to again)and loving it–was not especially well liked. Maybe a bad recipe. Also beloved were the Algerian Green Beans with Almonds, but really what’s not to like about oily garlicky green beans? We finished with Ginger Drink, which was okay, but will really sing later tonight when I add mint and rum to it…

The next two nights are 4-H nights, which means I don’t get home until nearly 7. Crockpot dishes from Kenya and Morocco!

And Laura, you answered your own boomerang question before I could get there, but I love Raymond Loewy and if I could go back in time I would study industrial design instead of American Studies and Psychology. Just as likely, I will go back in time and visit the 1939 World’s Fair and see his work there….sigh.

We’re back on our culinary adventure! If you’re just joining us, we began here. We hadn’t taken any more food trips since our actual trip to Aruba, and then I started the Eat 2 Live thing and hadn’t quite sorted out how to cook for that, and then I was just…lazy. But I’ve been in a rut, I’m through the initial 6 weeks of E2L and I think I can live a little at dinner as long as my other two meals are Spartan enough. So today, Lily drew Africa out of the cup. Whee! Off we go. So I sat down with my copy of “Global Vegetarian Cooking” that I got at the Fair Trade Fair (how crunchy am I?) and the internets and planned out our week. No spoilers. So you just get tonight.

We focused on southern Africa and started with a banana soup from Malawi, a papaya soup from South Africa, Vegetables in Coconut Milk from Congo, Coconut Rice from Mozambique, and Spicy Potatoes from Tanzania. You’re thinking, “Damn, woman, that is a lot of food.” And you are right. It is too much food. The potatoes were recalcitrant in their cooking and so came out last. They were picked at. Steve and I liked it all, even if it was a bit sweet. The banana soup was gobbled by Julianna, tolerated by Lily, and reviled by banana-hating Ben. Papaya soup was gobbled by Ben, eaten a bit by Julianna, and avoided by Lily. The veg were given “two thumbs up!!” by Julianna, disliked by Ben, hated by Lily. Rice was beloved by Ben, eaten by Julianna, picked at by a sullen Lily who was beginning to suspect a serious lack of mac and cheese in this endeavor. Potatoes, as mentioned, barely got noticed. I may die of guilt throwing away food meant to be from a place with no food. But they aren’t going to get better overnight.

Drawing the map of Africa was another of those “Huh, what do you know, so that’s where that is” experiences, as well as a “there are two Congos?” one. Steve said, “yeah, nasty civil war in the 70s, don’t you remember?” Yeah. I don’t think I had much of an African history background. But given that it IS in Africa, I imagine it was hair-curlingly grisly and vicious. Did you know there is an Equitorial Guinea as well as a Guinea? And neither of them is home to guinea pigs? Well, I knew the second part. I also did not realize that Swaziland (which I only know ANYTHING about b/c my beloved Richard E. Grant is from there) and Lesotho were islands in South Africa. See? I don’t just get an utterly filthy kitchen with every dish I own dirtied! I get to know new things!

Speaking of my dishes, Laura asked for a pic of the happy plates. I reassured her about the potential for lovely basements in the comments section, but I don’t think I can stick a photo in there. So here they are:

These are just the wee versions, I have full sized plates, too. The mosaic-y bowl is just from the Dollar store, they matched and this lot was sadly lacking in cereal sized bowls. Apparently people in early 1960s could eat only the tiniest amount of Frosted Flakes. Otherwise they’d blow right out of their slim suits and shirtwaist dresses.

Tomorrow, we head for West Africa!

Sadly, no one can read that. Driving back from taking the kids to school is prime blog time, but since I have to keep my eyes on the road, you get none of it. Sorry.

This is parent-teacher conference week. I’m so grateful that they are so uneventful. Lily’s teacher seemed a bit confused as to why I was even there (Duh, so you can tell me how brilliant my child is), and Julianna’s teacher was utterly unconcerned that I didn’t get a slot on the schedule. I can make an extra appt, if I want (And I will, because I want her to tell my how brilliant my child is). Even Ben, who is the one I worry about at this point, has a fine report. It would be lovely if he was to do his homework now and again, but other than that, it’s fine. Homework is a new thing, given that it’s a Montessori school. But it is also a Public School, so we have to take the accursed state tests. Because Montessori Math goes in a different sequence than Lame Math, we were getting hosed on that part of the test, at the lower grades. By middle school, it was all fine, but meanwhile, we looked like we were screwing up. And since the school board would like nothing more than to yank our charter, we needed to fix that. Thus was born homework and a math specialist and all manner of extra help. Which is fine. Not hurting anyone. This year, Study Island was introduced, an on-line homework thing (and the least popular Carribean Destination). Whenever I suggest to Ben that perhaps he should log on, he has said, “I can’t remember my password.” I mentioned this to Ms. Kim last night. She said, “His password is Ben.” Well no wonder he was stumped, poor dear. But she was cool about it, as she only cares about homework a smidge more than I do (which is not at all. YOu have them for 6 hours. Get it done then. Home is for play and interacting with family. And watching Fairly Oddparents).

The Eat To Live diet is still going smoothly. The cravings are gone. I’m not tired during the day and don’t get that mid-afternoon crash. Previously, it wasn’t just that I felt kind of laggy, I HAD to lay down. A nap was a must. Now, I nap about once a week, and only because I just love naps. I think I’ve lost about 10-15 lbs, I’m not actually sure of my beginning weight, just what I weighed at my check-up in the fall. The one that made me say, “Holy crap, I last weighed that a week before giving birth.” Best of all, I haven’t had real hip pain in a couple of weeks, in spite of having the rainly low pressure weather that usually does me in. Apparently, in addition to being good for weight loss and heart disease/blood pressure, this is an ideal diet for folks with many auto-immune disorders. The critters and carbs are killing you people. But oh, so yummy.

Speaking of yummy, I’m going to hop off the wagon tomorrow night. We’re going to Isabella’s with Bev and Jerry and Lara and Andrew. It’s my most favoritest b/c it’s lots of little dishes. But best of all, it led to this exchange:

Bev: We’re going to Isabella’s on Friday night with the Greenbergs. It’s Deana’s favorite.

Jerry: Isn’t that the tapas place?

Bev: Um…nooo…I can’t…no…

Jerry: Did you think I said “topless”?

Bev: YES!

So, good times for everyone!

Was there ever a better game than Punch Buggy? You get to seek out VW bugs, the best car ever; you get to punch your friends and family; everyone, everywhere knows what you’re doing, so you can just run up and slug a stranger and say “Punch Buggy red!” and it’s okay! No police involvement! By us, it has evolved a bit. Now we realize that all silver PBs are followed by Punch Buggy Invisible. So you can get in two hits for one if you’re fast. I also told the kids that I see a lot of PBs when they’re in school. So anytime they just feel a random pain for no reason, it means I’ve seen a Buggy and punched them with the power of my mind. They accept this.

I get to bite Hazel this weekend! I can’t actually eat her b/c of the diet, but at least I’ll get a nibble and a sniff. Can’t wait!

I know that so many look to me for pop culture insight. Andi was looking for my snark on the current ANTM cycle. I’m afraid I was serious back at the end of the last cycle, which was what? 2 weeks ago? Project Runway started during Top Model and it’s just now finishing up. I fear that Tyra is headed toward a Tyra Channel. SkankTV. But she’ll do it without me b/c I just can’t watch it any more. I know, it was never Masterpiece Theater (which was, of course, what made it awesome), but it wasn’t even fun anymore. I’d hoped that Make Me a Supermodel would fill the void, being on Bravo and all, but no. It, too, is pretty lame. I feel that I am being deprived of good trash TV. Recommendations are welcome.

I am, of course, watching Runway. I think Jillian will take it. I’m not crazy about her Ziegfield Girl personal style, but she seems to have the chops to be a designer. Not that it matters–the winners on this show have about the same success rate as the ANTM winners. If you’re a fan, check out the Sew Not Over competition if you haven’t already.

Watching Lost, going to bed confused every Thursday night. Well, more confused than on the other nights of the week, anyway. So far it’s a fairly happy confusion, I’m still enjoying the clues and twists, but they better pony up some answers soon. And it had better not be Bob.

Steve and I are finally watching The Office. Everyone told us to watch it and we kind of blew them off. Steve loved the British version and didn’t think this one would measure up. I found the British version to cringe-y and couldn’t watch it and feared the same for the American version. We both had seen part of an episode and weren’t grabbed. But oh, oh so funny. And Jim! And Pam! And dear, dear Dwight.

Catching up on Big Love. Great show, highly recommended. Well written, well acted, exciting and funny and generally great. We watched when it first came on, but since we cancelled HBO, we have to watch on DVD now.
Need to get Weeds and catch up on that.

Just finished reading The Body of Jonah Boyd and enjoyed it. It was a fast, engrossing book. Currently reading Water for Elephants, which I’m enjoying.

I’m not funny because I’m trying to follow the Eat for Life 6 week plan. I need to get some weight off so that my hips hurt less. And so that my pants fit. But I’m close to deciding to buy bigger pants and pop vicodin. It might make watching House even better.

Apparently, it is Shrove Tuesday in some parts of the world. But in Frederick, Maryland, it’s Kinkling Day! The first February we lived here, we were very confused by the banners on the Donut Shoppe that said “We have Kinklings!” Was it something that a shot of penicillin could clear up? Were the banners mandated by the health dept? The Shoppes (god rest their souls) were too small for a band, even a band of children that does Kinks covers (I KNOW!). So, as the kids say, WTF? Turns out, Kinklings are called Fastnachts in Germany and Pennsylvania. I vaaaaugely remembered Fastnachts. But since fabulous pastry is a year round thing in Germany, I paid them little mind. They are, really, donuts. ’round these parts, they’re square or triangular, no hole, no filling. Some are glazed, some are covered in granulated sugar. I hear tell that some have raisins, but I prefer to think well of mankind. If you decide that fresh donuts are a good enough reason to pretend to be Catholic or to dredge up your childhood training, You can find a link here. There is surprisingly little out there in the interworld about Kinklings. It’s up to us to change that. Make some kinklings! They don’t call it Fat Tuesday for nothing, people.

Eep! Only one more full day. I bum. Today was submarine day–it was cool. We went down to 150 feet (so they said, truthfully, it could just be a big aquarium 20 feet deep, how would we know?) and saw a shipwreck and lots of fish. Many of our favorites from snorkling (you’re right, Nell, it’s such a great word), including my beloved parrotfish, which Lily kept calling The Rainbow Fish (a hateful book if ever there was one). We saw divers holding an octopus. I learned that I do not want to spend much time in a submarine.

Home, reading, pool, dinner. We had a Thai place to ourselves. The owner (8 foot tall Dutch guy from Curacao) made the pandan ice cream from pandan he grows himself. It wa tasty. but best of all, all three kids discovered they love Pad Thai, so we can go to Thai food now and again. but not for a long time. because we are leaving all of our money here.

As they say in Les Miz, One day more!

A few things I’ve forgotten:

Andi, Hit cookies are lovely, but a mere substitute for the real deal–the Prinzenrolle. It’s the same deal, but better. And I just got some, b/c I’m in the Netherlands, apparently. (And what a great name for a country–the Netherlands. There be dragons!)

In the gift shop, I leafed through an Aruba cookbook. I’ve always found that a cool thing to bring back, but desert climates tend to be a bit critter-heavy in their native cuisine. No exception, this one. “Iguana Stew” ingredients list starts with “one iguana, medium sized.”

We walked along the beach one night and Lily was following a set of paw prints (frankly we’d pay to pet a kitty at this point. We’re so animal-love starved, Julianna and I tried to pat the fishies). Lily said “How far do you think these paw prints go?” And Steve said, “All the way to the dog, I imagine.” He has waited so long for a nice set-up like that.

If a native of Aruba went to maryland, would he think he was in a black and white movie? There is so much color here. The landscape is drab–desert, you know–but the house exteriors are colors most people wouldn’t even wear, let alone put on a house. It’s delightful. Step up, Americans, No White Houses!

First, two things (to go with the two days worth of posting)–one, seeing my house on my header, with snow in the gable creases (real architecture term) and no leaves on the trees…it is bumming me out a bit. Earlier, I was reading some P.G.Wodehouse, a love I share with Mr. Jerry and I was thinking that when I got back home and saw him at the pool, I’d see if he’d read this one too. But I will not see him at the pool, for the pool deck is covered in snow. Two–I’m typing this one on my father-in-laws grown-up sized laptop and I’m much happier. Having the weeny keyboard slowed me down enough to think and lord knows THAT doesn’t help my writing any.

So, I didn’t post last night out of a dread of the third world PC. I’ll fill you in now b/c I know you are nearly frantic at having had to wait so long. Yesterday, we decided to hit the “flea market.” Turns out it was not so much a flea market as a row of stalls selling identical crap about 200 yards from the cruise ship port. So it’s guaranteed to be quality merchandise at discount prices, right? Well, the prices weren’t horrid but the stuff was pretty ratty. Once I get home and get the photos on the ol’ Mac, I’ll have to treat you to a picture of my youngest child holding a hash pipe. Don’t panic, it was the one with the iguana on it, not the one with the supernaturally endowed Rastafarian headin’ for his lady friend’s waiting back door. The sun was insanely hot, the breeze was blocked by the buildings, Grandma was shopping, Lily didn’t feel well, the menfo’k had gone for a walk, I couldn’t find a wrap made of anything but rayon, and while I could get a backpack with both Dora and Garfield on it, I couldn’t seem to get one with both Minnie Mouse and Popeye. Disappointing. I did score a chess set which pits the Incas against the Conquistadors. Which is pretty awesome, you have to admit. Doesn’t really say “Dutch Caribbean colony” though.

Everything else does, though. I find it odd to see everyone here at the Marriott compound wearing Aruba shirts and Aruba hats and Aruba skirts/shorts carrying Aruba bags…It’s, I don’t know, it seems kind of like pinning your phone number to a toddler in case he gets lost in the train station. The urge is strong to say, “Hey, where’d you get that shirt?” But they’d just point me to the gift shop in the lobby, I imagine. Or the Flea Market. I guess my idea of a souvenir is something OF the place I’d been, a product of the island, in this instance. But I’ve really not seen anything like that. Aloe is a big product, but I don’t think burn cream is what I’m thinking of. Today we picked up a bunch of shells and some sand. White sand of Aruba to go with my black sand of Tenerife. And pictures, lots of those. Brace yourselves.

ANYway, as I was saying before I wandered off on one of my superior rants (really people, enjoy your T-shirts. If it makes you happy and doesn’t hurt anyone, it’s okay by me. Just know that I will mock you), it was wretchedly hot and Lily was sick, so we headed back to the hotel. We thought about heading out to see what was once the Natural Bridge and is now the natural almost-bridge, but Steve fell asleep, I was reading my book, Lily was resting (which is to say, watching TV) , and Ben and Julianna were similarly unmotivated. We managed to drag ourselves down to the pool around 3. At 4, I left them with the Grands to go get ready for dinner.

Dinner! We had a reservation at a restaurant on the beach. Our table was right at the water’s edge. A boat came through, making a wake, and all the sand washed out from under us and tipped our table. Crabs came up and checked up out. It was quite a view. And the sun set right over the water…gorgeous. The food? Well, the view was very nice. The Dutch influence was strong and there seemed to be a cheese or cream sauce on everything, competing with the flavors of the food. Our waitress was an insanely cute Dutch girl we named Heineke. She had dimples and a fabulous body and a sweet waitressing gig on a Caribbean island. She is happy here. Go figure. We hung out until it was dark and the saxophone player showed up. Live music is so often my key to leave. In addition to having had a little rack on which we could hang our shoes, they had a wee footwashing station as we left. Little things please me. The food was shit, but there were washcloths for my feet! I give it a 10!

Back home, a night of indigestion and the (quick, squeamish guys look at the sidebar for a minute!) surprise arrival of my period. As always, I was caught unawares and unprepared. Grr. Oh, and did I mention that I didn’t pack underwear for myself? I didn’t. I have one pair that I wash every night. So thank goodness I had THIS on top of it.

Today, today was snorkling day. We have a new favorite thing. People can there be a better activity than just floating, still in the Carribean while tropical fish swim up to you? If we could have found a way to eat or drink beer at the same time it would have been HEAVEN. None of us had snorkled before and oh man, we are hooked. FISH! Now, they weren’t quite tropical coral reef quality, but they were a far cry from those brown minnows that bite our toes in the lake. There were big tangs that were silver with electric blue outlines, little purple and yellow fish, fish that look like that peanut butter log candy,and these great big fish with huge clearly outlined scales like they’d been drawn by a five year old. And they were just THERE. Right by my face. It was like swimming in an aquarium. My very, very favorite thing was when a school of little silver fish swarmed around me and I was just surrounded by them and they stretched off into the distance. Really magical. Loved it. And did I mention I just had to hang there? Ben and Julianna took to it like the children of lazy people that they are. Lily was utterly unconvinced that fish were worth a wet face and had no part of it.

Back at the hotel, the in-laws went out to dinner and Steve and I took the kids to a bar/sandwich place on a pier over the water. The food was okay, the view and the breeze were incredible. Just that perfect tropical breeze. And Lily danced. She twirled around in her flowing sundress and sang to herself. Steve said, “Will this ever get old?” And I said no, but I now think that it probably would be kind of sad if she was doing that at like, 35.

And now we’re sending them off to bed and I’m realizing that this was our only day without the pool. Hmpf. Tomorrow morning we have our rescheduled submarine. We might go to the park after that. Or we might just hang out here until it’s time to go. Back to the snow-covered pool deck.

So today was supposed to start with a submarine ride. We got up bright and early, got a cab because we can’t fit all three kids in the rental, and arrived at our dock. but alas, the a/c was broken on the sub so they cancelled the ride. we’re rescheduled for Friday. The assembled New Yorkers were bitterly complaining. but we are cheerful folk from the mid-Atlantic region, so we just went on our way.

We decided to visit the Butterfly farm instead, but after lunch . To have said lunch, however, we needed to go to the grocery. Howard and I headed out. I’m always uncomfortable when it’s he and I…well, not uncomfortable, but just really aware that I look like I’m his second wife. And given my age, onlookers must wonder if I’m not about to get thrown over for a new model. I don’t want their pity, damn them. Steve just called me a “second-place trophy wife.” Thanks, man.

Totally worth it, though, because we went to this great little Dutch grocery with cheerful bright carts and food with many vowels and oddly placed consonants. My German helped some, in that I could read the ingredients list and try to guess what that combination might taste like. It led me to the positive find of “coconut bread” which is candy, but it also led me to buy “hard foam” which was not tasty and freaked my mouth out a little. The staff in the store was largely Dutch, which just seems weird. but oh, how I love a foreign grocery store.

The butterfly farm was lovely. Smaller than I thought it would be, but just charming. Our guide, marco, seemed to really like working around butterflies. It would have been such a bummer to get a spiel from someone that is just sick of these damned bugs. They aren’t native, but are from all over the world. Pictures, once I get them on a computer.

I made dinner in, since grandpa went out with his first wife tonight. I’ve promised the kids we’d go on the lazy river after dark…

Sorry these posts are kind of dull diary entries, but this keyboard block my brain. I’ll try using Howard’s tomorrow.

Nice lazy day today, we hung around in the morning while the menfo’k went to buy some groceries. It’s a Dutch island, which means good cheese and mediocre beer. Around 10:30, we went down to the pool and floated around the lazy river for a couple of hours. Julianna took it upon herself to name all the iguanas. Sheldon, Octavius, and Emerald were very relieved to have names at last. You could just tell. In addition to the iguanas, there are these cool little guys that are grey-green with electric blue polka dots and/or stripes. Lizards everywhere, which is making us all happy.

We headed down to the beach for another hour or so, swimming in the Caribbean. Which, you know, cool. The back to the pool for 90 min or so. Then I napped while Grandpa took the kids to see a shipwreck. Then dinner at a really uninteresting Chinese restaurant. It looked very fancy, but was, as Steve put it, a “Long Island Chinese restaurant.” It’s just never a good sign when they put out the wonton strips and ducksauce at the beginning.

It stood to reason that it would be reminicient of LI b/c everyone here is from New York. Steve has dubbed the island “Mooks and Kikos.” Our hotel skews pretty old, too, so I get to see lots of walnut brown old dudes in Speedos. Often wearing baseball hats and smoking cigars. It’s a good look. One that pairs nicely with the well-coiffed matrons in visors and gold jewelry setting off their gilded bathing suits.

but even I can’t pull off cranky here, so you know it must be lovely. Tomorrow: submarine!

Well, it’s really just the first day. We’re in Aruba! And yes. it is pretty darned awesome. I’ll tell you about it, but first an apology for any weird spacing and lack of capitalization…I’m on our OLPC–One Laptop Per child–and the keyboard is sized for teeny third world fingers. My giant fat white lady fingers are just making a mess.

Anyway, we left our hotel room near JFK at 6:30 this morning. That is early. The kids LOVED the shuttle ride. Our Slovenian driver hurtled us sideways at like 70 mph around hairpin turns. Whee! At the airport, we killed time by riding the moving stairways (I am The Power Walker, lesser known superhero!) and building with the legos that were at one end of the terminal. Lily was concerned about the bag scanner. She had picked up that if you had anything you weren’t supposed to have the TA would keep it. What she didn’t pick up was that they are unlikely to suddenly decide that twistable crayons are a threat. She was convinced that those bastards were just on the job to get good stuff. “Oh sorry, your watch has been determined a hazard.

Speaking of watches, Ben is…into digital watches again. He periodically becomes focused on them and cannot rest until he can get to the dollar store and get one. Well Grandpa lent him a diving watch and now the child is calling out the time every couple of minutes. “It’s 2:54…..It’s 2:56…” boy, if I wanted to know the time, I’d WEAR a watch.

So anyway, we were packed into the plane (”mommy is this First Class?” “Yes.” “So are we second class?”) , nearly full plane, we took up a row. I had a stranger next to me, on the window, but she was small and sleepy. Lily dumped Sprite on me twice (why such a big mouth on airplane cups? and such a small base?), I dropped my ipod twice. The big mook in front of me reclined into my lap for the whole 4.5 hours, leaving a space too small to get anything out of my bag. Lily squirmed and chattered endlessly. And Tony Soprano was behind me telling his second, younger wife that he was going to “bash [some guy's] fookin’ headdin”He then loudly told a neighbor about how they had had two bloody Mary’s before boarding. At 9 am. And I had heard him order two vodkas (”plain, mixer roons it”) on the plane. He grew increasingly loud.

Turns out he was joining his fellows. I have heard more NYC accents here than I did in NYC. They’re swarming this plcace. This place is, by the way, gorgeous. 82 degrees, breezy, colorful. There are iguanas just hanging out poolside. There’s a lazy river. The water is perfect. Photos and further updates soon!

Thanks for the tilda advice, very-soon-to-be-new-mom Andi! Tonight was tapas from the Andalucia region. Holy moly, it was good. We had patatas bravas, ajillo mushrooms, queso de cabra con tomate, and tomates cherry en salsa de torta del casar. Or, for you English speakers, fried potato chunks with a tomato sauce, lemon garlic mushrooms, goat cheese in tomato sauce, and cherry tomatoes in a yummy stinky cheese. They were all fabulous, but the patatas bravas were definitely the group favorite. Julianna did prefer the tomatoes in stinky cheese, but even she–who doesn’t like potatoes–like them. Lily even ate some, after moving on to cheese sticks. Steve, bless him, declare that it may have been the best meal I’ve ever made. So there you go, folks, good chow.

Tonight to Valencia for Paella. I made a vegetarian version and, like always, home paella is never as good as at a restaurant. The rice was a tad goopy. I’m not sure why restaurants need so much notice for paella, I mean, rice just doesn’t take THAT long, even with the traditional risotto methods. You can really only get the heat so low. Maybe they make the rice really angry or give it a virus so that its internal temp just goes up a bit. Whatever it is, it works better than what I do. We also had Hazelnut Soup, which wasn’t as good as it sounds. So, tonight was not a huge success. Live and learn.

Tonight, in honor of the final night of the Festival of Lights, we ate the food of the Sephardic Jews. Spanish Lentil soup was met with mixed enthusiasm. Ben an I gobbled it down. Julianna and Steve ate politely. Lily tried to get it away from her as if it might become sentient and attack. Sephardic Spinach Patties or Croquetas de Espinaca were beloved by all but Ben. Apparently in some Spanish Jewish houses, these are made instead of latkes. Which is just nuts, as they taste not at all like french fries.

Tonight was my monthly trip in to Lily’s class to teach them about a famous artist and make a huge artist-inspired mess. Today was Jackson Pollack, which meant an ENORmous mess. Much paint slinging. I showed them a youtube video of Pollack in action. I figured they’d zero in on how he was just winging the paint all over the place or at least the fact that he had a cigarette in his mouth. But no. “Wow! He has a big nose!” and then much exclaiming about the nose. And one little boy who kept moaning, “His shoes! Look at his shoes!” It was kind of funny in light of the fact that Converse had a Chuck Taylor ad featuring Pollack, wearing his Chucks, painting. I always thought “An enormous tool that makes, let’s face it, hideous art, wears your shoes? I must have them!” Seriously, it’s not exactly “James Dean wore khakis” now is it?

No clue how to do a tilda over that n. Imagine it and rolll with it. So tonight we begin our Spanish Cuisine week. At Andi’s insistence, I made Tortilla Espanola, which was, as promised, utterly yummers. Like eating in a diner in Madrid. We also had Escalivado Tostadas, essentially roasted veggies on toasted baguette. Again, yummy. To round it out, a lovely Manchego Cheese. The kids liked it all in varying degrees. Lily liked the tortilla served with a red sauce (traditionally sofrito. Tonight, marinara). People, if you’re in a rut, I highly recommend this exercise. There’s just so MUCH good food out there, there’s no excuse to eat the same 10 dishes night after night.

It is the penultimate night of Hanukkah (you know I’m posting that just to use penultimate), and it has mostly gone well. For the benefit of those with similarly aged kids, I’ll post what they got…And, you know, so that I’ll remember in two weeks.

Lily got: Pop up flower fairy book, stuffed otter (upon rejecting the doll clothes), T-shirt from Threadless and slippers, Creature Creator for the Leap Pad (and I’m suddenly plagued with the fear that a grand parent bought that too…I hope not…), a Schleich horse set, a stuffed horse for the horrible rejected dolls to ride (hmpf), a pair of Breyer ponies, and tomorrow’s big gift will be a full set of Blendy pens and pad of paper.

Ben got: a Star Wars graphic novel (fancy comic book), old Pokedex from ebay,a Tshirt from Threadless and slippers, Pokemon Fire Red and Leaf Green for the GBA,a Pokemon Movie, a new Pokedex, a box of Pokemon cards (are you sensing a theme this year?), and the big gift tomorrow is a Lego Star Wars MTT.

Julianna got: a Bad Cat calendar (full of really, really lame jokes. Some of them more inappropriate than I noticed when I looked at it in the bookstore. She thinks it’s hilarious), a drawing set (replacing the horrible doll clothes), a Tshirt from Threadless and slippers (it’s cold people, and I’m not turning up the heat. Oil is a billion dollars a thimblefull), the game Drawn to Life for the DS, Schleich elves on horseback, a medium sized Breyer horse, a big Breyer horse, and tomorrow’s gift will be a tabletop easel, paints, and canvasses.

Tonight, in addition to the regular gift, Steve gave them each a box of old Topps Little Shop of Horrors Trading Cards. Complete with 22 year old bubblegum. Which probably tastes no different than it did in 1986. Ah, trading card gum, pink flavored glass dusted with powdered sugar. But you should have heard them geeking out as they went through the cards. /Comic Book Guy voice/ Look, this one shows a picture that was in the never-released original ending! /Comic Book Guy voice/ The geek genes are strong in this clan.

Just in case anyone thought that I was missing out on tasty treats by being a vegetarian–fear not. I can eat a facsimile of any nasty crap you can eat. Even the stuff you don’t eat because it’s the stuff that we in the developed world throw away.

Behold: Vegetarian ear. yummers.

Last night, we had an Armenian Pilaf. It was tasty to most of us. Lily, of course, refused it after noting that it contained neither macaroni nor cheese. And far too many things that were not either of those magic ingredients. I added some broccolini to it b/c I was beginning to get scurvy. There aren’t a whole lot of green things in yer Eastern European food. Tonight, however! Yum! We had a Belorussian soup (which I freely improvised based on what I had in the fridge. Like any peasant would) and Latvian Vegetable Nuts (you’ll need to scroll down on the link). These little babies were delish. Basically, I sauteed mushrooms and onion in butter, tossed them in the food processor along with a cup of canned garbanzos, a cup of peas, 2 cups of cooked carrots, 2 eggs, some parsley, and matzo meal until it held together. Roll into wee balls toss in flour and FRY BABY FRY! Turns out, that when you sautee things in butter and then deep fry them, and then serve them with sour cream? They’re good. Who knew?

Next week, Steve is in California, so we’ll take a much needed rest from our world tour. I need to cook slacker-style for a while. Then, we’re off to Spain!

I have some things to get through, so just be quiet for a minute. First, the food. Food is always first. Our second night of Eastern European cuisine featured Hungarian Noodles and Fasole Batuta, a Romanian bean dip. Ben and Julianna liked the noodles, Lily did not, in spite of their similarity to mac and cheese, her current sole form of sustenance. The bean dip was VERY garlicky, which means Steve and I ate most of it. Last night, we had a 4-H meeting until 6 and had to be at a play at 7, so I just fried up Pierogies (Mrs. T’s mini’s–in your freezer cabinet!).

Next, Lily’s new-found reading skills are rocking her world just a bit. She was looking over my shoulder as I was reading The Amber Spyglass (terrific!) and saw the word “dragonflies” as a chapter heading. She asked what it was. When I told her, she replied “No, that’s a ‘duh’, dragon starts with a ‘juh’–’jragonflies.” Wow, they do sound the same. So we talked it out, but she was a troubled. Then, a couple of days later, I asked her what dress she wanted to wear. “Dress? I thought it was jress!” She was kind of laughing it off but in this really nervous “NOW what are you going to throw at me?” Knowledge can be unsettling.

Love Project Runway, we know that. But you know, PR Canada is really stepping up the competition on dear ol’ Heidi and Tim. This week on the American show–make boring men’s wear for some ex-athlete with conservative taste. The results were sloppy and dull on the whole and those that were interesting were utterly ignored b/c the guest is the whitest black man since Bryant Gumble. But this week on PR Canada–the models came out dressed in one fashion era or another and the designers had to decide whether to choose by model or by the style they want to be inspired by in the next challenge. Great idea! And then, the challenge? Swimwear. Genius. And then? Not only do they have to design for their model, they have to do a plus sized suit as well. AND they didn’t act like the plus-sized women were lepers. They mostly made good, flattering suits. Yay. Plus, Iman referred to her husband as “Bowie.” love it.

So tonight we started our tour of Eastern European cuisine (Steve: If you make Kasha Varnishkas, I’m going to a restaurant.). I tend to think of this region’s food as Brown. Mushrooms and sour cream and dill. And, in sifting out vegetarian options, I’m not far off the mark. But I think I’ve got us set up decently. Tonight, we had Ukrainian Barley Mushroom Winter Borscht and Sou-berag or Armenian Lasagne. They both were pretty tasty. The lasagne was good b/ c it’s a big ol’ pile of cheese. But the borscht was very good, I thought. But can it be borscht without beets? It can certainly be yummy without beets. In fact, I don’t think it can be yummy WITH beets. But is it borscht? That’s one for the food philosophers. I’m going with it. The kids all liked the lasagne. Julianna ate the soup, Ben ate some, declared it “okay” and gave up. Lily tasted it and refused more. But she’s on a very strict mac-and-cheese regimen.

I draw a map of where we’re eating each week, and I swear drawing this section of Europe was full of “so THAT’s where that is!” moments. When I learned geography, everything west of Poland was “Russia.” Damned inconsiderate of them to break it all up like Ma Bell. As a result, I was looking all over for Armenia. I knew that starving children came from there in the 60s. I thought it was all tucked up there in the cold areas. But no! It’s wedged between Turkey and Albania. Which, thanks to Cheers, I know borders on the Adriatic. And its chief export is chrome.

I’m officially here now. I’ll only put new posts on this blog. Welcome. Give me some time to get all the links over and such. No shoving. So we continued our British Isles theme at dinner. Tonight was Welsh Rarebit, bubble and squeak (which did neither), and cucumber sandwiches. For desert, treacle sponge pudding: Mmmmm…tumorous…. Really, I cannot imagine how British food gets such a bad rap.

So we moved to the British Isles for this weeks culinary journey. Tonight we had Bashed Neeps (mashed turnips) and Cheese and Onion pasties We also sampled three cheddar cheeses–one from England, one from Ireland, and one from Scotland. Bashed Neeps are from Scotland. Any time I came across a recipe with a name that gave no hint as to what it might be, it was Scottish. in fact, when I clicked on the Neeps recipe to find out what the heck a Neep was, the recipe just called for 250g Swedes. Which, I later found out, are turnips. Oh, those whacky Britons. There is quite a lack of green in the listing of tradtional British recipes. No shortage of cheese or butter, though, bless ‘em. Cheese in the pasties. Hot buttered Swedes. Cheese sampling. Cadbury chocolate fingers for dessert. I have…a sour stomach. I’m grateful to only spend one more night in the UK. Things from this post you shouldn’t google: Hot buttered swedes. Pasties. Chocolate fingers.