Tales of Me and the Husband

pappa al pomodoro.

oh man guys… you know, i’ve professed my love to ina before on this blog.  i can totally forgive the fact that she only ever wears black collared shirts because, let’s be serious, the woman is a genius in the kitchen.  a genius!  when you cook that well, you’ve earned the right to wear whatever the heck you want.  anyway, here’s one more recipe that pretty much seals the deal in my book: she is my favorite celeb-cook.  there!  i said it!

if you like soups and you like croutons, and that should be all of you, then this soup is for you.  you might’ve seen the start of it on instagram.  it was my first time (first time!) with fennel (or anise… it’s what my grocery store had!).  i was a little unsure if i was even chopping it properly, but i just went for it.  and man, it did not disappoint.  not the anise, the tomatoes, the basil… none of it!  it was sooooo good, so flavorful, and totally cozy.  make it.  don’t make me tell you again!  and don’t skip the croutons and buy silly store-bought bagged ones instead!  i warned ya!

pappa al pomodoro
serves 6
| ingredients |

1/2 cup good olive oil
2 cups yellow onions, chopped (2 onions)
1 cup medium-diced carrots, unpeeled (3 carrots)
1 fennel bulb, trimmed, cored, and medium diced
4 cloves minced garlic
3 cups (1 inch) diced ciabatta cubes, crusts removed
2 (28-ounce) cans good italian plum tomatoes (i used san marzano)
4 cups chicken stock
1/2 cup dry red wine
1 cup chopped fresh basil leaves
salt and pepper, freshly ground
1/2 cup freshly grated parm cheese (i used locatelli which beats parm any day)
for the croutons:
3 cups (1-inch) diced ciabatta cubes
2 ounces thickly sliced pancetta, chopped
24 to 30 whole fresh basil leaves
3 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper
| the how-to |
heat the oil in a large stockpot over medium heat.  add the onions, carrots, fennel (or anise, like i said!), and garlic and cook over medium-low heat for ten minutes until tender.  add the ciabatta cubes and cook or 5 more minutes.  place the tomatoes in your food processor and process until coarsely chopped.  add the tomatoes to the pot with the chicken stock, red wine, basil, 1 T salt, and 1 1/2 t pepper.  bring it to a boil, lower heat, and allow to simmer partially covered for 45 minutes.
now, for the croutons… preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  put the pancetta, diced ciabatta cubes, and basil in a bowl and toss really well with the olive oil, salt, and pepper (don’t be too sparing with the salt and pepper as it’s basically the only seasoning on the croutons).  cook on a sheet pan, stirring occasionally, for 20-25 minutes.  they should brown and be really crispy.  the basil leaves will turn dark and crisp–that’s ok.  stir in your cheese for taste.  serve hot with the croutons on top!
yum.  i mean it.  yum.
i’ll just say it ahead of time. 
you’re welcome.

shooting kabul.

this is the most recent book i’m reading to william and lindsey.  i don’t read to them nearly enough, but when we find a book worth sitting down for, we all love it.  steve heard this one talked about on npr a few weeks ago, so we bought it and are really enjoying it so far.  it’s about a family from, you guessed it, afghanistan.  they’re trying to get out because of the taliban and, in the process of their midnight escape, they lose their youngest.  we’re not even half way through it yet but i think the rest of the book will be their attempts to get her back.  any book dealing with a culture other than our own i think is good for kids.  perspective, eh?  i lost myself to the kite runner and a thousand splendid suns a few years back.  books set in the middle east are almost always at the top of the list for me (another good one for kids is three cups of tea!).  so, this one is a winner.  
this one was also talked about in the same npr interview.  might be the next on the list!
here are some books we’ve enjoyed in the past.
any killer chapter books you’ve read to your kids that i should know about??

pop-pop.

this fine-looking gentleman, my pop-pop, passed away friday night.  he was 94 (or 93… no one is entirely positive of his age).  he was totally hilarious and had spunk coming out his pores.  he was so in love with this woman, my mom-mom, and talked about her constantly.  they were married 65 years.  she passed away soon after their 65th anniversary… about ten years ago.  he’s missed her every day since.  while we all mourn him terribly… i mean, its the passing of a generation and the last grandparent i had… i’d like to think they are having a seriously sweet reunion up there in heaven.  probably eating some really fine food she’s prepared, maybe peach cobbler with warm vanilla pudding (one of her specialties!), and catching up on the last ten years.  for that, i rejoice.
nevertheless, i’ll miss him till we meet again.  
love you, pop-pop.

a pity party… and how i got out of it.

this is going to sound a little like a pity party.  because it is one.  ready?!  let’s go!

sleep is touch and go these days.  with a budding eight month old who’s mind is going-going-going, who is getting four top teeth, and who’s only food source is nursing (i’ve tried food–he’s not interested.), we are not sleeping through the night.  not at all.  i totally value alone time.  i always have.  safe to say there’s slim to none of that these days.  for awhile i had been staying up too late after parker went to sleep to just wind down, read a magazine, drink tea, surf blogs, watch a movie, be quiet… these days, i’m finding that i like myself a whole lot better if i head to bed soon after he does.  there goes that ‘me’ time.  i’m feeling a bit like a ship passing in the night with my husband.  he’s up working, i’m going to bed, he’s off to work in the morning, i’m asking him to be with the baby when he gets home so i can do some laundry, cook dinner.  you get it.  it’s hard to find quality time.  it’s hard to find quiet time for yourself.  it’s just hard.  i know this is sort of par for the course in life with a baby and a house full of kids, but as the laundry baskets pile up and the refrigerator empties, it just gets a bit tiresome at times, ya know?

i love being a mom.  i feel overwhelmed with blessing that i get to stay home and be with this incredible little boy day in and day out.  that when william and lindsey get off the bus, they’re not coming home to an empty house but one with me in it to ask how their days were.  but, i am a bit tired.  i want a time out from cooking dinner, doing laundry, vacuuming, grocery shopping.  wah, wah, wah.

i’m just having a downer week, you could say.  one of the kids hurt my feelings the other day, nothing intentional, something i really took too personally, but it had me all out of sorts and sad the whole day.  and when you’re tired, everything seems bigger than it needs to be.  the weather here is gray and after last week’s unreal weather, i should be okay with that–we were spoiled already.  but really, i just want more of that beautiful weather that lifts the spirits and makes you want to lay in the sun.  i want to save money, to put it away to finally buy a lens i’ve had on my list for like two years, but when the dishwasher repairman comes and, fifteen minutes later you’re handing him a check for a hundred and five dollars, it just pushes those wants (it’s not a need, i know this.) further away.  again, wah, wah, wah.

most mornings i wake up and tell steve how happy i am to be surrounded by loved ones.  i mean, i really feel it.  i feel so lucky.  to have our health (we have our health!  this is to be celebrated!), food on our table, and enough money to sometimes be a little bit frivolous with it.  i really can’t even count the blessings…

but, this week… well, i’ve just been funky.

but, the title of this post promises me getting out of it, right?  right.  that’s music.  hardly a day (or hour!) goes by in this house when i’m not playing something on pandora, my ipod, spotify… i love me some music.  it’s an instant mood-lifter, game-changer for me.  when you find that song or album that you have a serious visceral reaction to where you could just listen to it, lie on the floor looking up at the ceiling and think, “this is the greatest song ever” (and surely i’ve said that about, oh, five hundred different songs)… well, it’s major.  you know what i mean?!?  you do, right?  where you practically get the chills, it’s so good.  i love to find those songs, those artists.  i pocket them carefully and take them out on sunny and rainy days alike.  this morning what got me out of my downer mood was fleet foxes.  i love those guys.  i mean love them.  it’s not everyday that you find an artist whose every song you love but they’re it for me (except one song, really, but still… good odds!).  anyway, where was i.  bad mood bridget, surfing the ipod… so, i put on grown ocean off their helplessness blues album and i swear, it began to lift.  even parker was bumping to the music.  i declare this is his first time doing anything resembling dancing.  his little bum was moving up and down while he was on all fours.  “play on, fleet foxes!”  he didn’t say it, but he thought it.  i listened to that album for days and days while i was big with belly last summer.  so, i guess it makes sense.  he’s heard it before.  anyway, as that song played my day got a little brighter.  and a little brighter.  and a little brighter.  i mean, it’s not solving my sleep issues or getting the laundry folded and put away, but at least i can listen to it alongside my coffee in the morning.

safe to say, fleet foxes played all day long.

you want summa that?

so there it is.  my pity party.  and the subsequent game-changer.

how to stave off the witching hour: the magic of motown!

it’s inevitable.  that dreaded hour arrives… in our house we bravely face it around six to seven at night… where your child cannot be made happy.  toys are frustrating, books are maddening, the floor is unbearable, and all that soothes are the loving arms of a mama or papa (and sometimes, not even those suffice!).  we also call this the witching hour (oh, you have one too?!?).  when we put parker down on the floor during this hour he looks up at us, tears in his eyes, arms held high:
pick me up!
he’d say it if he could.
it also happens to be the hour when i’m most often cooking dinner and need some help with the little guy.  steve!  i cannot focus when he is fussing!  pick him up!  or it is PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY SANDWICHES FOR A WEEK!
sunday night i found the perfect activity to keep the witching hour at bay: motown classics, my friends.  we had a certifiable dance party at the hunt abode, parker on my hip as i bopped around to the beat (of course this doesn’t work if you are cooking dinner, but we’d already eaten.  hurrah!).  he loved it.
this is way better than yesterday’s witching hour, ma!
he’d have said that if he could, too.
lindsey did her crazy moves (i should get them on video at some point) and parker watched, laughed, and continued chilling on my hip, happy as a clam, while we danced to the music.  and then, at about the fourth song (quite loud, i might add), i looked down to his little face resting on my chest fast asleep.  i kid you not.  this boy! makes me melt!
you want your own stave-off-the-witching-hour-motown-classics-playlist?  why didn’t you say so?!
press play, fools!

lindsey’s tenth birthday.

this little lady is ten years old (well, her birthday is in a few days, technically).  but, ten!  my gosh.  double digits.  it feels totally crazy that she’s ten already.  she was four like yesterday.  alright, enough with that.  ten it is and she’s a really cool ten year old.  she walks to the beat of her own drum and doesn’t get too caught up in what’s cool and what’s not according to her peers.  i like that about her.  she’s sassy too.  i usually love that–i think a girl with a bunch of older brothers (and a little one!) requires a certain amount of sass to get through the day.  as long as it doesn’t turn on me… and finally, she’s funny.  like really funny.  the other day she was playing mad libs and the blank she had to fill was for a “tool.”  she said, without skipping a beat, “william!”  we had a good laugh about it.  clever, that lindsey.
so, we were going back and fourth about what sort of party to have for her.  when i suggested a cookie decorating party, she was all about it.  so, i made a bunch of sugar cookies and bought all sorts of colorful nastiness to put on top complete with different colored icings: nerds, fruit loops, mini chocolate chips, sprinkles (or jimmies depending on where you hail from!), mini m&ms.  i felt like high fructose corn syrup himself came and vomited all over my kitchen table.  but, it was a birthday.  when in rome, eh?  
it was a fun party.  most importantly, she loved it.

happy tenth birthday, lindsey!  we love you!

8 months.

but the next baby born was truly divine,
a sweet little child who was mine, all mine
and this little baby, as everyone knows,
has ten little fingers, ten little toes, 
and three little kisses on the tip of its nose
from the book ten little fingers and ten little toes
(one of our favorites)
Wadini by Touré Kunda on Grooveshark
(and one of my favorite good-weather songs…
destined to be a favorite of yours, too!)

parker, parker, parker.  i don’t even know where to begin with you, kid!  i’m up to my elbows with pure love for you and everything you!  whooped!  totally whooped on you!  you are growing bigger by the day… you’ve got to be toppin’ the scales around twenty pounds these days, i think… but so help me, you still fit in the carrier and get nestled in it frequently!  you have opinions these days (opinions!) and let us know what they are.  you play happily on the rug in the study with spoons, spatulas, colanders, pots, pans, magazines, blocks, books… your favorite toys really aren’t toys.  lately we’ve been building a little tower of blocks and you crawl over to it, knock it down, and we all clap and cheer for you.  you sit back immediately, upon hearing our cheers, and look at each one of us with a big smile on your face and then (and then!!) you started clapping yourself.  the other morning, in my sleepy state, i looked at wide-awake-you sitting up in bed between daddy and i clapping happily.  it’s your newest trick and it’s totally delicious.  even in the wee hours of the morning.

we just started bike riding and you are silent as a mouse on the back of mama’s bike… riding along holding the bar, thinking it’s just about the coolest thing ever.  i wish i could watch you the whole time you’re sitting there, but eyes on the road!

and crawling… oh my do you crawl.  getting better and faster by the day.  and you find every little speck of dust or dirt on the floor and touch it with your pointer finger, trying to get it in your hand.  you don’t have the pincher grip down which is just as well–it shouldn’t be in your mouth (or on the floor, i guess) anyway!

baby boy, i love you so much.  i whisper this in your ear on an hourly basis, but it’s good to write it here too.  thanks for being my guy.  happy eight months!

{this time last year–crazy!}

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