havarti. apples. lentils. holy.

Now home, I'm all about the kitchen again. It's been a few months of this happiness.  We'll never return to the decade-long whole foods short-order-cook marathon that burnt me out.  (D's really good at all that, actuallly. While I was gone they ate dinner on time, brushed their teeth, had baths each night & went to school early.  Sounds blissfull, and, there was some bed-wetting, the goats escaped five times & I got a distraught rambling text on the last evening.  In full disclosure.  When I checked in there was no response & I'm told it never happened.  Such kindness on D's part.)

So now I'm cooking for myself & inviting my family into it.   Diverse food made in community makes me deliriously happy, & that always seems like the only rule worth following religously. I never felt good about placing health over culture or making foods bland to keep peace at the table.   They're big enough to be nice about it & prepare something else if they like.  Sometimes we have to call upon our *Angel of Tact, in case they just can't seem to get it together.  The most successful meals at this point are a co-creation, and I'm really savoring the way it's all coming together as we move out of the "young family" into something with a little more partnership.

For instance, the boys began using the pulp from our juicer for pancakes.  They take all of it & dump it into the big electric mixer, with a cup of our Everyday GF Flour Mix & way more eggs than they need.  It feeds them all day.  If there's enough apples & carrots in there, it doesn't need any sweetener.  Just a good pinch of sea salt & lotsa butter for frying.  (Do you fry your pancakes?  I think that's a Pilipino thing. We fry everything that we don't eat raw.)  If I wanted to be fancy I might call these Fried Apple-Carrot Souffles.  Maybe I will now.

Here we juiced green apples, celery, carrots, parsnips & lacinto kale.  After the drink I sauteed garlic, an onion, & mushrooms; added green lentils, water, sea salt & brought all to a boil.  Lowered to a simmer, it begged for the pulp + the little fresh thyme that didn't go black in the last frost.  When it was ready, we covered it in mounds & mounds of shredded havarti cheese.  And declared this the meal for all Wednesdays.  Forever & ever.  Amen.