by mayberry on July 21, 2010
This morning on NPR I heard this story about the return of Soup Man, aka the Soup Nazi. I might have to add “eat soup even if it’s 100 degrees” to my BlogHer ’10 must-do list, because it made me hungry. I’m a little skeptical, though, because the original soup Nazi, Al Yeganeh, doesn’t make the soup or even own the business anymore (the current owner says he “remains involved”).
At my first job in New York, I worked in a building on 57th St. and Broadway. Mr. Yeganeh held court a few blocks away, at a counter that opened directly onto the street. Even before the Seinfeld episode, it was a big deal to go there. The line was really long, and the anxiety was real, because the guy already had a reputation and it was based in true fact. WOE BETIDE the person who didn’t respect the line, the meticulous ordering procedure, or the need to “have your money ready!”
It cost $7 for a cup of soup. It came with bread, a piece of chocolate, and two or three grapes. At that time, that was a lot of cash for me to spend on lunch (actually, that still seems like a lot, now that I eat leftovers for lunch every single day). So it was a very special treat.
But it was every bit as good as you’ve heard.
by mayberry on June 20, 2010
Because “good last report card of the year fondue” doesn’t trip off the tongue quite as well. But it was a double celebration. Our crunchy school doesn’t give letter grades (actually, the level of detail on the report cards is amazing and I can’t begin to imagine how long it takes the teachers to do them). But everything that had been a “needs improvement” became “improving” and several “improvings” became “significant strengths.” It definitely called for some cheesy, chocolaty goodness.
I know, picture of the wrong kid. Oops!
Happy Father’s Day to all.
by mayberry on April 4, 2010
On your fifth birthday, you hunted Easter eggs and wore your new frog boots to church.
During brunch, you sweetly sang “Two little blackbirds sitting on a hill…” Then you sang it while accompanying yourself on the ukulele. Then you sang it while accompanying yourself on the drums. Then we said “Enough singing.”
You played with your Lego Star Wars X-Wing fighter allllll day, except when you were making movies, starring Zhu Zhu Pets, with your sister. (But one of your favorite presents was the giant cardboard box that came in the mail from Grammy.)
Instead of a cake, you asked for parfaits. This turned out to mean chai tea concentrate, milk, strawberries, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and red and green sugar crystals in a glass. With a piece of cinnamon-pecan roll on top to hold the candles.
You rode your bike to the playground so you could go on the spinny merry-go-round. Later you biked to a different park just so you could roll down the sledding hill.
In 10 days you’ll attend kindergarten orientation.
Just don’t run too far too fast, okay?
by mayberry on April 3, 2010
I don’t think too many (white, Midwestern) 8-year-old girls sit down to a homecooked Indian meal on their birthday and eat it with gusto.
I don’t think too many eight-year-old girls accidentally open their younger brother’s birthday present and really wish they could have those boys’ size 5 plaid Bermuda shorts for their own.
I don’t think too many eight-year-old girls give away 99% of their Easter candy, cheerfully, because they can’t eat it thanks to their recently installed orthodontic devices.
I don’t think too many eight-year-old girls want to spend part of their birthday building a Lego spaceship with their uncle.
Then again, I don’t think too many eight-year-old girls are as great as you are.
by mayberry on March 3, 2010
Kids of the World:
The information I am about to reveal may shock you. It may amaze you and anger you. It may, in fact, confirm your own suspicions.
Through careful observation, sophisticated information-gathering technology, and top-secret intelligence techniques, I have answered the question that children have been asking for generations.
What happens after kids go to bed? There’s a reason we are being held prisoner in our bedrooms, isn’t there? I know there is.
Kids of the world, I must answer with an emphatic yes. My investigation has revealed the following practices by our parents:
- Consumption of contraband foods, including but not limited to desserts and candy, multiple servings thereof; chips; French fries; and other so-called “not good for you” items (In fact, “not good for kids” seems to be code for “just fine for adults especially in large quantities.”)
- Consumption of contraband beverages (including a substance that looks remarkably like grape juice but most certainly doesn’t taste like it)
- Consumption of said items while sitting on the good furniture
- Watching of television, including entire movies
- “Working” on the computer (alleged)
- Use of the so-called “work” telephone for game-playing
- Telephone conversations which we children have no ability to intercept or interrupt
- Bathroom visits which we children have no ability to intercept or interrupt
Kids of the world, I urge you to conduct your own investigations into these sinister practices. Share your results using the UnderPlayGround Network. Plans to defeat these unfair bedtime restrictions are underway. Stay tuned for further instruction.
by mayberry on January 20, 2010
I have learned a new secret to compliance and pleasantness at the dinner table. I trust you’ve heard the one about letting kids help plan the menu and cook. This really does work, at least when you can get them to actually do it. Last week we made “Brownie Soup,” which doesn’t actually contain any chocolate or any little girls in uniform. It is a recipe from the Brownie Try-It book. I hooked the children by suggesting we make it. Then I reeled them in by allowing them to help, and most especially by allowing them to use knives. Sharp ones. Sure we ended up with some 1/2-inch pieces of celery and some 6-inch ones, but who cares?
Finally, the big finish: I left my laptop on the dining room table and set up the screensaver option that plays a slideshow of photos randomly selected from your files. Kids can never get enough of seeing pictures of themselves. So use their natural egomania to your advantage, I say. It’s not like reading or watching TV at the table (which I don’t allow), because you are still talking to each other. In fact, we talk more and sit longer because of the photo display, discussing when and where the picture was taken, and so forth.
*
Via the Parent Bloggers Network, I had the opportunity to ask Dr. Dean Ornish a question about health and wellness. Dr. Ornish is the founder and president of the non-profit Preventive Medicine Research Institute in Sausalito, California. He advocates comprehensive lifestyle changes as a means of preventing and reversing disease, so I asked him about how to lower our kids’ risk or high blood pressure (there is some history of it in our family). I mentioned that my children are pretty active and eat fairly well, but there is always room for improvement. Thanks to PBN, I received an answer from Dr. Ornish in the form of a personalized video he made after reading this blog. I tried to embed it here but could not–I hope if you click on the link you’ll be able to see it.
by mayberry on January 6, 2010
For Patty, in the spirit of making deliciousness out of aggravation.
- 1 lb. rice
- 4-5 lemons
- 6-8 eggs
- 2 cups sugar
- 1 tsp vanilla
- 1/8 tsp cinnamon
- 1/8 tsp nutmeg
- 1 pie crust (storebought or your own recipe)
Cook rice the night before, rinse well and cool in the refrigerator.
Beat eggs. Add sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg.
Grate lemons and add all rind with juice from lemons. Add rice. Mixture should be really soupy. Add another egg or two if necessary.
Pour into pie crust. Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes. Insert knife – should come out clean.
by mayberry on December 16, 2009
(aka: Captain Obvious cuts back on a Starbucks habit)
This year I started making my own chai lattes. Given the cash flow and the metabolism, I would get a grande nonfat chai from Starbucks every single day. But that is 1400 calories, 294 grams of sugar, and about $20 … every week. So, no. Here’s what I do instead:
Buy a box of chai tea bags (about $3 for 20, so 15 cents each).
Buy a carton of chai tea concentrate–the exact same stuff they use in Starbucks and other coffee shops (about $4, this lasts me at least 4 weeks, so let’s say 13 cents per serving).
Brew a cup of tea with the tea bag. Resist urge to make horrible joke about teabagging.
Add a splash of concentrate. I don’t know, maybe 1-2 tablespoons. There are 133 grams of sugar in the entire 32-oz. container, so if I get 30 servings/container that’s about 4.5 grams per serving (and about 21 calories, based on 630 calories in the whole container).
Add a splash of skim milk.
Enjoy! It doesn’t have the yummy foam of a storebought latte (although I could invest in a little countertop steamer/frother for about $25 … maybe I will!), and it’s not nearly as sweet. But I see that as a benefit. Total cost is under 50 cents and calories are probably between 40 and 50. The milk and the concentrate have similar calorie counts and I use about the same amount of each.
And that is the best tea of ’09!
by mayberry on December 1, 2009
When I lived in France, I often lunched with a family that included twin four-year-old girls. Their mother spent quite a lot of time during each meal issuing the reminder “Les deux cuisses sur le tambour!” (Both cheeks on your stool!)
Similarly, meals with Opie involve a lot of reinforcing, reminding, and pleas to use utensils and keep his butt in his chair. I figure this is par for the course for age four, and he is slowly learning decent-enough manners. We can take him to a restaurant and he can be trusted to sit fairly quietly and not make a huge mess or spectacle.
Still, he doesn’t have a great track record for Big Family Dinners of the Turkeyish Kind (or other special occasions). I think that he can sense his father’s nervousness (and, in my opinion, unreasonable expectations) about his behavior, and he also sometimes doesn’t like to be in the spotlight–this is why he refused to trick-or-treat, because he didn’t like people looking at him.
We were quite pleasantly shocked when on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, he sat at the table with nine other guests and politely, beautifully, neatly ate soup and salad. It was a thing of beauty–and this was after being in the car for nearly eight hours that day.
So is it any wonder that on Thanksgiving itself, he arrived at the table naked from the waist down, growling “i hate you i hate you i hate you” at anyone that glanced in his direction?
Eventually, I ate with him in the kitchen and then later he did reappear at the table and was perfectly charming. And the next day, we went to a football game at Grandma’s school with a bunch of VIPs and he voluntarily shook hands with strangers and said “Hello, Mr. Howard” politely and stayed until halftime without a single complaint.
Oh four. You are a mystery. A growly, adorable, ear-pinching mystery, and I am thankful for you every day.
by mayberry on September 27, 2009
We had tacos for dinner the other night and I flashed back to the many (many, many) times I ate them as a kid. Tacos, made with the Ortega mix, were one of those family meals I could prepare myself. My husband, by the way, was astonished to learn that I used to cook dinner for my entire family. I did, but the only dishes I can recall making are the ones that involve hamburger. Aside from the tacos, there were two specialties from the Minute Rice Cookbook which, even back in the day, seemed totally outdated and, well, gross. We still ate them all the time. (Also, I should note here that my mother is actually a really good cook.)
Number one: porcupine balls. I’m serious. These were not, you know, actual testicles. They were large meatballs studded (ha!) with grains of Minute Rice.
Number two: Cherokee casserole. Again, no actual Native Americans among the ingredients. Just hamburger, rice, and some kind of spices/flavorings, chief (HA!) among which was the whole bay leaf. It was, of course, a special treat to be the one who found the bay leaf in your portion. Here’s a recipe which reminds me that oh, god, I forgot about the cream of mushroom soup. Also that particular recipe has black olives, which: No.
