A song for Carolina's birthday

Our goddaughter, Carolina, turns six today!  We tried to make a birthday video for her (at her request), with mixed but very funny results.  Happy Birthday, Carolina!

Motherhood Monday

Some days, motherhood is a wonderfully glorious affair.

Some days, motherhood ain't so glamorous.

Like today, when one child was awake in the middle of the night for over an hour (a different child than was awake in the middle of the night before), the dawn came too early and the child who did sleep rose with it, squabbles followed from tired mouths, and the cat provided the piece de resistance by sharing chipmunk innards on a blanket the children were using for their (now-peaceful) game.

Ah, yes.

Happy Monday, y'all.
(We shall overcome.)

Trying recipes from My Berlin Kitchen

I told you I would get back to you after I tried out a couple of recipes from My Berlin Kitchen, and here I am!  You didn't think I forgot, did you?

First up, the ragù.  In the book, Luisa warns you that any cook time of less than 5 hours simmering this sauce isn't really worth it.  I can see why she says this.  I started my prep after lunch, and my whole house smelled moderately awful until at least 3pm (though I should probably add the disclaimer that we are not big meat-eaters and very rarely pork eaters--this recipe requires 1 pound each of beef and pork).  Thank goodness it was a reasonable temperature outside, so I could open the windows and back door.  My wee girl kept wondering aloud what that horrible stink was, and I pretended not to know.  Not appetizing.  Then, around the 3 or 4 hour mark, something changed.  The smell changed for sure.  I didn't taste the ragù early on while it was distinctively fragrant, but I'm betting the flavor made a huge leap forward too.  At the 5 hour mark, it smelled almost sweet and definitely delicious.  The flavor was great, far greater than the sum of its parts.  In addition to being easy to cook, it's a solid basic sauce, good on pasta or lasagna or frozen for future use.  I'm glad we stuck it out, but I will remember next time to prep on a weekday when my eaters are not at home during the early stages.  My oh my.



Next, the buttermilk panna cotta.  I knew this had to be made before I even finished reading that chapter.  Luisa wrote about the glories of a cold drink of buttermilk on a hot summer day.  I bet most people I know would screw their noses up at this idea, but my husband wholeheartedly agrees.  He has tried repeatedly over the years to sing the praises of buttermilk in hopes I might adopt it too.  I love to cook with it, but drink?  Not so much.  This dessert seemed a perfect match for both of us, and it was!  Cream, vanilla beans, and buttermilk cooked and cooled to perfection.  The texture of creme brûlée (minus the burnt sugar shell).  So smooth, cool and absolutely delicious!  The perfect summer dessert for grown-ups (our girls tried it but couldn't get past the buttermilk tang).  We loved it with and without the berry topping Luisa recommended.  Yum.

Have you tried and loved any new recipes lately?

Our chickens

I have known for years that I would like to keep backyard chickens.  I knew I would like the eggs and the easy recycling of kitchen scraps, but I didn't know what a kick I would get out of them, what a kick we'd all get out of them.  They are so funny!  Their curious natures.  Their big wobbly bodies.  Their gentle clucking noises.  Their loud squawking when something is amiss (whether it be a dog in our yard or simply being overdue for a snack offering).  We love chatting with and about them.  I enjoy telling people about Sheila, our feminist chicken.  She's the biggest girl, but that doesn't mean she has to lay eggs for our gratification, thank you very much.



And then there are the misadventures, like when the cat chased a baby bunny into the chicken run and it made a beeline for the nesting boxes in the coop, where it settled down much to the cat's distress and the chickens' confusion.  All three chickens stood at the top of the ramp and peered into the coop, staring at the furry refugee and wondering just what the heck to do next, completely oblivious to the cat who desperately tried (in vain) to retrieve her prey.



Now, we have the single most ridiculous chicken accessory yet: the Peck and Play.  Just the name cracks me up.  We can't have our girls roaming free, as our yard is unfenced on the sides.  Sometimes, though, they fancy a bit of a wander in the grass, so up goes the Peck and Play.  They happily destroy that patch of grass and poop away until it's time to go back in the run.  Silly chookies.

McConnell's Mill State Park

This week's Sunday trip was about an hour north of Pittsburgh to McConnell's Mill State Park in Portersville, PA.  Hubby selected a trail that he claimed the map told him was only half a mile.  Ha.  It was more like 2 miles over rocky and uneven terrain...and it was so much fun!  The girls start to whine and complain very quickly when the path is smooth and even.  They are bored.  They are hungry.  They are oh-so-put-upon.  But put them on rocky, uneven terrain with tree roots and stumps and rocks and bugs, now that's a good time!
















Next time, I think we'll be a bit more prepared.  Like not having the girls dressed in sundresses and sandals perhaps.  Like bringing along snacks and possibly poison ivy care (thankfully not needed but many plants spotted!).  Lucky us, unprepared as we were, we had a wonderful time.  We can't wait to go back when there is fall colour to enjoy.

Self-portrait challenge

The ladies of A Beautiful Mess are hosting a 30-day self-portrait challenge (they are actually half-way through, but I only just learned about it).

To participate or not to participate?  That is the question.

Taking self-portraits has always seemed a bit egocentric to me (which is a bit odd, seeing as I love it when my friends take selfies).  I don't particularly love how I look in a shot on my own, but then again, no one else is taking the pictures.  If I try self-portraits, I can control the image and perhaps learn quite a bit in the process.  I have read that a lot of women find taking self-portraits makes them feel more comfortable with themselves and just being in front of the camera. Confidence-building, not ego-enhancing (or ego-busting, when the photos aren't so great).  I like how this seems to be just what A Beautiful Mess had in mind with the challenge.  Maybe a group challenge to take a self-portrait per day for 30 days is just what I need to try this thing.  After all, no one has to see unless you want to share.  Hmmm....

Do you take selfies?
Will you join in the challenge?

Recommended reading: My Berlin Kitchen

At a good friend's recommendation, I recently borrowed "My Berlin Kitchen" by Luisa Weiss from our local library.  About halfway through, I ordered my own copy from the bookstore.

Luisa Weiss is the writer behind the food blog The Wednesday Chef.  I wasn't familiar with this blog before the book, so that's not what drew me in.  The girlfriend who recommended it had lived for nine years in Berlin, and she loved her life there.  The title captured her, but the story kept her going and helped her pass it to me.

Luisa is an only child of an American father and an Italian mother, born in Berlin but shuttled between cultures and countries when her parents parted.  Her struggle to find her place, her feelings of being torn and not particularly fitting in anywhere exactly, the battles between her head and her heart...all of these things spoke to me deeply.

As a US military brat and now an expat wife, I have spent my life on the move, never living in one place for a complete four years (the average is 2 years).  My husband has even less place-identity, spending most of his formative years in a country he will not live in again but still feels was "home" though it does not match his passport.  Before my marriage and our international travels began, at least I knew what country I belonged in, but now even that is less clear.  Battles between my head and my heart are rather familiar.  It is rare to find this nomadic sense of rootlessness captured so well and refreshing to find it in someone my age.  Secretly, I have to love that there is a happy ending too.

Add in the fact that Luisa is a serious foodie and I was hooked.  Each chapter tells a story from a particular period in her life, and the end of the chapter contains a recipe that she identifies with that time or place.  I've already purchased ingredients for her ragu and her buttermilk panna cotta.  I'll let you know how they turn out.  In the meantime, why not check out a copy of the book for yourself?