HOT MESS + HOT YOGA = HOT MAMA

From the first time your newborn scratches his perfect little alabaster face to a broken arm on the pee wee football field, it's a sad fact of parenthood: kids get hurt. They bump, they bruise, they bash, they bang. Not fun, but it comes with the territory. It's an expected reality. But I think most soon to be moms and dads are in someway prepared for it.But NOBODY prepared me for the injuries and abuse I'VE had to endure over the past 2 1/2 years. Fish hooking, gum scraping, head butting, nipple biting. Baby talons raking over your eyelids like razor blades on fire. And while we're on the subject, I need a BIOLOGICAL reason why an infants fingernails need to be Freddie Kruger sharp and grow overnight. It's INSANE. I honestly think one of the hardest tasks and biggest shockers for a new mom is the newborn manicure. Like trying to pamper a caffeinated grasshopper. A caffeinated grasshopper with freakishly sharp nails. 

See these seemingly adorable and innocent treasures for what they really are:
VIOLENT, VICIOUS BEASTS. Just...bullies.
Pats and Nora. Tag-teaming me on the daily.

A few weeks ago I was absolutely at the end of my rope. I was clocked in the jaw and kicked in the c-section too many times a day. My hair was getting ripped from the roots in gobs and I'm pretty sure I had a dead front tooth.

I needed a break from the octagon ring that was our living room or I was seriously gonna lose it. I couldn't run the risk of acting on the urge to defend myself, so I needed to get the H-E-double hockey sticks outta there. And fast. I needed a hobby. A break from the house on a daily basis that would somehow make me a better me. And, in turn, a better mom. I've never been super enthusiastic about working out. I like doing my Pilates DVDs now and again, and I love to dance...but I needed more out of my "me time." We were walking through La Jolla one morning (as we did everyday while we were  there for 7 weeks). Park, grocery store, coffee, the norm. We passed a big sign that read "BIKRAM YOGA."  Bikram yoga, in a nutshell, is a practice of 26 different yoga postures and two breathing exercises done in a room heated to about 104 degrees. Thats basically the jist. I'd always wanted to try it. I wasn't what you'd call a yogi by any stretch of the imagination! A class at the Y in Des Moines with my friend Carlos, an at home DVD a couple times, and a few prenatal classes in San Francisco where the instructor used the word "juicy" one too many times for my liking. Gag. But, I don't know, something in my gut told me I would like Bikram. Enough so, that before we left NYC I bought two Groupons to two different yoga studios to use upon my return. Figured it would be money flushed down the loo, but a good deal. And like most gals, I love a good deal! Never the less, I took a quick iPhone pic of their schedule and vowed to myself I would check it out the next morning. And then the most bizarre, unexpected thing happened: at 6:20 am the following day, I dragged my battered booty out of bed, got dressed and actually walked out the door! I know. And just like that, everything in my life was about to change... 

Over the next 90 minutes, everything was just...clicking. Everything the instructor said was ringing so true. Every posture...it felt like my body had been waiting to move like this my whole life and was finally getting the chance. It was awesome. And the body part was just the tip of the iceburg. It was getting into my head. It was getting into my...dare i say...SOUL. I felt like my whole system was being...cleaned. Flushed out. I was sweating out all the crap built up inside. And I was hooked. The next day, I got up at 6:20 once again and headed back to the hot room. I bought an unlimited monthly membership and was on a mission. I left class feeling unstoppable. Strong. Empowered. This continued over the course of the next 5 days or so. And then...it all came crashing down. I couldn't take more than 2 sips of Pinot without becoming almost instantly blubbering drunk. I could sit down for more than an hour without falling upon rising. My arms were burning so badly I could barely hold Pats up to nurse, my head was pounding, and my left hip was jacked up to the point that a simple stroll to the market was excruciatingly painful. Both physically and mentally. WTF? This was so freaking unfair. I finally get out. I find something that is MINE. And that is stimulating and active and spiritual and motivating and it's left me in a physical state of helplessness. What gives, man? Was something telling me to stop? Give up? And then the words of Clark W. Griswold rang through my head: "Nothing worth while is easy, Ellen. You know that!" Ok, Sparky, I hear ya. I popped a couple Advil, doubled my water intake, saw a chiropractor a couple times and got back on the camel! 

And I've continued to get back almost everyday for almost 2 months. My hip healed. Almost. The soreness has faded almost completely away. Almost. 

But doesn't it sometimes seem like that's always the way? I spend 99% of everyday taking care of everyone else and the second I try to do something for myself, I get shit on. More often than not, literally. My keys ALWAYS chip a fresh (paid for) mani. As soon as I find a few minutes to catch up on phone calls or emails or writing? The shrill screams of a nap cut short. But it's true. Nothing worth while IS easy. Its not easy to get up while EVERYONE else is asleep (which NEVER happens by the way--everyone sleeping at the same time) and head to a heated torture chamber where I contort my body for the sake of emotional balance. Well, and abs. Well, and rock hard thighs. And its not easy putting career and vacations and personal hygiene on the back burner. And it's not easy trying to raise children that don't grow up to be serial killers or drug dealers or date rapers. But going through these hardships make the end result that much sweeter. The hardest part of my day is usually over by 8:30 am. That's pretty freeing. And, when we finally do get that romantic getaway in the sun, I'll appreciate it that much more. The life experiences and trials I'm dealing with right now can only make me better at my job. A wiser, more well-rounded woman learning the vital skills of patience and perseverance. And how to breast feed, make a grilled cheese, and find "Franklin" on YouTube simultaneously. 

SEE...? BULLIES.
The early days: Jeremy takes one for the team. 

Out of the hot room and into the cold world, baby!

Bikram inspired tips for moms (and other humans) gripping their lotus flowers for dear life to avoid drowning:

A LITTLE SUFFERING BUILDS COMPASSION I heard a teacher say this recently while in wind removing pose. It's a posture in which you are lying on your back and you pull your knee up to your shoulder till you feel a little "pinch" in your hip. Wonder why my frickin hip kills? Um...ow. Same thing applies to motherhood. Or just person-hood. Somehow - despite the fact that the pasta I serve her has nothing on it but parmesan cheese -Nora manages to get spaghetti sauce UNDER her bib and all over the brand new sweater I laid out for her the night before. I realize this as we have 3 minutes to get out the door for a play date. I mean, it's like my the world is about to end. The baby scratches her face with one of those Freddie fingers just as I'm about to dress them in their fancies and take holiday pics. Forget it. Full mental breakdown approaching. For ME, you understand. Not the children. Right? It's like "WHY MEEEEE?" Cut to: Huffing and puffing down the sidewalk with my City Select as we're now late due to the last minute costume change and there's a young mother, toddler in tow, pushing a no more than 6 month old baby in plastic umbrella stroller with an oxygen tank in the flimsy basket beneath. Spaghetti sauce? I'm such a DICK. Cut to: (Audible sigh) The subway elevator reeks of piss, then I have to squeeze my double chassis and my yoga assy onto the 1 train which is packed for absolutely no reason at 1:30 on a Tuesday. After my eyeballs return to normal from their rolled-up-into-my-brain position, I look down at the other end of the car to see a young woman in a wheelchair. She's in a conversation with another passenger about how she broke her back in gymnastics when she was 17. Paralyzed since. Seriously? I'm crying. A scratch that will heal in a day? Ruined your stupid Christmas picture princess? I hate myself. Not to say if nothing bad ever happens to you in your life you can't be compassionate toward others...but sometimes in takes a wheelchair and an oxygen tank to show you that your spaghetti sauce "incident" is ridiculous nothingness. I'm such an a-hole. Which leads me too...

THE GREATEST CURRENCY IS SELF-COMPASSION AND ENDLESS PATIENCE. Now, endless patience, I believe, is a lifelong journey. With screaming kids, spit up stained Juicy Couture, a two year old's new found love of watercolors, and waiting for ANYTHING to happen on Desperate Housewives...we'll say my "endless patience" is a work in progress. But I'm working on it and that's what matters. Self-compassion on the other hand, is something totally different. Sometimes we're so busy consoling everybody else and figuring out their problems that we forget about ourselves. Now, self-compassion isn't "felling sorry for yourself." Think of it instead as self-APPRECIATION. Instead of getting down on yourself for the little things that go wrong. CELEBRATE the little things that go RIGHT! You DIDN'T chip your paid-for mani! Woo-hoo! Pour a for-no-reason glass of bubbles while watching Bravo! Done. You got the multiplying mountain of laundry FINALLY washed and folded AND put away. Rock on! Go buy yourself a hard copy of US Weekly and steal find 10 minutes to do a flip through. But self compassion/appreciation goes beyond rewarding our own efforts and little victories. It's about loving ourselves. I know, I know. Sounds a little 80's? But fa realz. I don't want Nora to hear me call myself fat or old or ugly. I don't want Pats picking up on me silently wishing for another life a la Kardashian or Witherspoon or Chelsea Handler. I wanna show my girls that I'm following MY dreams, and in turn they'll be inspired to follow their own. I don't want to get so wrapped up in what everyone else is feeling and doing and eating and wearing that I let myself go completely and wake up one day to find my kids nominated me for some LIVE! With Kelly Mommy Makeover segment. I mean, a sweet gesture but...not interested. SELF COMPASSION. SELF APPRECIATION. Worth more than gold or silver. Or Louboutin. 

YOU DON'T NEED A GREENHOUSE TO GROW. 

Yes. I've been led to most of this new found wisdom by trapping myself in a stinky sweat box for 90 minutes a day, depriving myself of water while blood rushes rapidly to and from my brain. For some reason that's what I apparently need. For now. But I can't count on it. Well, I can't DEPEND on it. Peace and knowledge and understanding and compassion and pain and pleasure is all around us all the time. It's just a matter of being open to it. All of it. I don't need to put myself in extreme conditions to accept supreme gifts. Its all there ahead of me. It's hard not to be intimidated by the brightness of great things. Take off the Dior shades and SEE. And feel, and taste and LISTEN. So important! I need to listen before I speak or freak out or throw something or scream. It's a pretty low moment when you loose it on a toddler for interrupting your "Housewives" for the 12th time not cause she wants "choo choo trains on iPad," but because she's thirsty and is asking very politely for a glass of water. Please, Mommy. I get frustrated constantly with her inability to listen. Maybe she's frustrated with the same thing in me. 

WHAT WE DO IS SIMPLE, IT IS NOT EASY.

Changing a diaper, emptying the dishwasher, mashing up a banana I mean, a trained monkey could do it. A trained MAN could do it. Simple tasks that fill our day that is somehow the hardest work we've ever done. And on top of it we're expected to keep our cool, not curse or drink, and keep a smile on our faces whilst watching "Toy Story 3" for the 487th time. And pay attention to every move Jesse makes. And NOT cry at the end. "Why you so sad Mama? Woody ok, Mama. Bonnie nice." Sure! No prob. Seems easy enough, right? WRONG. I feel like I've aged 10 years in the past 28 months. Everyday seems like the hardest day I've ever lived. Somedays the responsibility of being at the helm of the life and well being of two miniature human beings is...insane...suffocating...borderline hilarious actually. And they barely do anything but play and eat and poop. What am I gonna do when I have to deal with school and boys and bullies? Oy vey! Easy, no. SIMPLE, yes. I've taken to the idea of moving through every moment one second at a time. In class, we don't hold any posture for more than 60 seconds. Some 30. Some only 10. Come ON. You can do ANYTHING for 10 seconds! Wake up. Change morning diapers. Go downstairs. Turn on Pandora. Start breakfast. Eat breakfast. And so forth. I'm not worrying about lunch. I'm not worrying about the party we're going to on the weekend. I'm not thinking about the struggles we will likely have at nap and bedtimes. I'm just living in very second of every moment. Simple enough. In theory. 

COME BACK TO YOUR BREATH. 

It's important, and most teacher's stress, in between postures to focus and "come back to your breath." This is an amazing skill I've tried to incorporate to my daily practice. In the yoga studio and in life. When Nora's having a full mental and physical meltdown or turning purple from a tantrum, we encourage her to breathe. "Take a deep breath....in...out." Its actually wicked cute when she complies. Jeremy and I however, seem to have a harder time following our own advice. As most of us do, right? So, we've  vowed to give this one the 'ol college try. When things are about to boil over, STOP. When there's a line wrapping around the store at the Rite Aid on 145th and Broadway because there's ONE girl working the registers on a Saturday afternoon. And all you need is baby wipes because you forgot them on your last diapers.com order and you realize as you get closer that she's ON THE PHONE screaming at her baby daddy...STOP. Breathe. Ahhhhh. Or " HAAAAAA" as Bikram would say. Your toast burns. Let it out. Poop up the back. Regroup. Crayon on your flat screen. Move on. Amazing what a little oxygen will do. Again, simple. Not necessarily easy. 

I'm not saying Bikram yoga will solve all your problems. Or make you a better parent or spouse or person. But there's SOMETHING out there that will give you that extra boost you need. That something just for you that will enrich your life just a little more. Make you feel more confident, more alive. And all of this will rub off in everything you do. Maybe it's cooking class. Maybe it's pottery. Maybe it's church. There IS time for you. I didn't think there was time for me. But I MADE time. And if you wanna give Bikram a shot, come up to Harlem and practice with me! I'll go halfsies on your first class! That's how much I love this. Maybe you'll do it once, or everyday for the rest of your life. Who knows. And no matter how long you practice, and no matter how long you live, you may never reach the "ideal." In anything you do. That's not the point. You do what you can for you. For your family. Today you may be able to do more than yesterday. Tomorrow, maybe less. Your apple pie may never look like Martha's. Your kids' birthday parties may never be as grand as Tori and Dean's. You may never be able to bend back and see the wall behind you or touch your "exact forehead to your exact knee." But we ALL can stand with our feet together, planted firmly into the ground, and look at ourselves in the eyes in the mirror. And breathe. Let's begin.

WARM FROM THE INSIDE OUT!

Two cozy recipes to fill you up with comfort.

CHOUDHURY CHILI

I've been going through a phase lately where I'm kinda picky about meat. Especially ground meat for some reason. So I've been cooking a lot of vegetarian recipes. This vegan chili is super healthy and super filling. I guarantee you won't miss the meat. And if you do, add some in. Fine by me.

2 medium onions, diced

2 cloves garlic, chopped finely or grated

5 (15 oz) cans of beans You can choose any combo you like. For taste color and texture I prefer: black, pinto, light kidney, dark kidney, cannellini or white beans. But again, whatever you like. Chick peas are good, lentils, red beans...sometimes I switch it up depending on the day/my mood.

1 (15 oz) can of corn

2 (15 oz) cans of diced fire roasted tomatoes They don't have to be fire roasted. I love these though. They add a nice smoky flavor that works well in chili. But you can get plain, with garlic, with peppers onions and celery...your chili your choice. 

A palmful or so each of: garlic powder, onion powder, cumin, smoked paprika, dried or powdered oregano, chili powder

1 tsp cinnamon

Your favorite hot sauce (I like about 10 dashes of a chipotle sauce)

Worchestershire sauce about 5 dashes or so

Salt

Pepper

If I happen to have these lying around I'll throw in a half a handful (a tablespoon maybe?) of semi-sweet chocolate chips, a bottle of dark beer or stout (half in the pot, half for the chef), any coffee still left in the pot from the morning. These just give it a little something extra, but no worries if they're not around. It'll still be delicious!

This really couldn't be simpler. Or easier for that matter! Dice up the onions and garlic and add to a big pot over med-high heat with a LITTLE bit of olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. Let these cook a bit and soften while you open up all your cans! Drain and rinse the beans and corn in a colander to get off any excess salt and "tinny" taste. Dump in over the onions. Add your tomatoes, not drained. Now your spices and any "extras." Stir it all together. Bring up to a boil, then reduce to a low simmer. You could be eating in a half hour or 4 hours. The longer it sits on the stove the yummier and thicker it gets and gives all the favors a chance to get to know each other a bit. I  when you're ready to serve give it a taste and add more salt and pepper to taste. Top with chopped scallions, shredded cheese (I like a reduced fat cheddar or pepper jack), and plain Greek yogurt (you can use sour cream if you prefer). I set it out in little bowls and your guests   can top as they choose. Ovbi, if you wanna keep it vegan, omit cheese and sour cream or use soy. Serve with your favorite tortilla chips, corn bread, regular bread, whatevs. Dig in! Good with that dark beer (if there's any left), or a nice spicy red wine. 

**If you want to go ahead and add meat, brown a pound of ground beef or turkey while you're cooking the onions and garlic.**

MAMA's TIME OUT

This hot chocolate is so special and decadent and delicious and SO EASY you'll never use powdered again. For an extra special kick for Mama, add a splash of kahlua, Bailey's, bourbon or amaretto...aaaaaaahhhhh. 

This recipe is for a regular sized coffee mug, one serving. If you want it in one of those big 'ol is-it-a-cup-is-it-a-bowl mug, double it up. 

1 c (8 oz) of milk (what ever % you like, I use skim)

2 tbsp semi sweet chocolate chips

1 tbsp brown sugar (dark or light, whatever you have on hand)

Sprinkle of cinnamon

Whipped cream (optional)

In a small saucepan, heat milk and brown sugar over medium heat till it starts to simmer. Remove from heat and whisk in chocolate chips till completely melted. Then whisk in cinnamon. Pour into your favorite mug and top with whipped cream! So good! If you are adding booze, I would pour it into the mug, then pour the hot chocolate over it. We don't wanna risk cooking out any of that alcohol content now do we?

AAAAAHHHHHHHNNNNNDREA’S QUINOA SALAD

About 3 years ago, my brother-in-law Serge was dating this girl he was madly in love with. She was on the scene for almost a year when the entire fam was in Toronto. We were all so excited to finally meet Andrea. Honestly, to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty if it’s ANNE-dree-ah, AHN-dree-ah, ahn-DRAY-ah...and honestly I barely care. She was entitled. She was rude. She had a habit of interrupting conversations that everyone was participating in, to recant these [what she thought to be] interesting stories. In fact they were ridiculous, sometimes borderline inappropriate, and certainly had NOTHING to do with what we were talking about in the first place. Look, I can get along with anybody. Well, no actually that’s a huge lie. But I truly WANTED to get along with her. Serge thought she shit gold and I love Serge like my own brother and I wanted to give her respect and a real chance. And I feel like I did try. (Quick side note: She’s actually-on paper-quite intelligent, and is doing good for poor kids in other countries. Or something. Whatever. Beside the point.) So yeah, we’re all in Toronto and my in-laws are meeting Ahhhndrea for the first time. They had dinner at Serge’s house, and we all met up later at one of our favorite pubs. Obviously, a few bottles of wine had been killed during dinner. When we showed up, this was glaringly apparent by Serge’s rosy cheeks, my Mother-in-law Gail’s knowing look (she never drinks), my Father-in-law Craig’s (aka Pop's) perma-grin and Ahhhndrea’s...um...coziness? She was buddied up to Craig like he was the captain of the football team giggling about what bottle to order next. At a pub. Ew. Girlfriend, you're like 25. Just order wings and a beer and shut up already. We asked how dinner was, and then rang out the sentence that has since become an inside joke and a metaphor for SO many things: Pop says, “Ahhhndrea made a delicious quinoa salad!” Ahhhndrea beams with pride, her eyes half closed like she just won the Nobel Prize or a Daytime Emmy. Jeremy and I raise our eyebrows as high as they can go to keep our balls from rolling out of our heads. I look down the table at my now sister-in-law, Melody. (She’s married to Jeremy’s other brother Bryce. At the time they had been together since 8th grade. About 16 years, but not yet married.) She gives me a little smile, although I’m not positive she heard what was going down at our end of the table. QUINOA SALAD?! Who makes a fucking quinoa salad the first time you meet your boyfriend’s parents? I have nothing against quinoa, but...WHAT? It’s autumn in Toronto. I don’t know...something about it seemed so pretensious and so crunchy granola and weird...I just...UGH! And WHY to this day does this bother me so much??? Melody has, in all essence, been a part of the family for 16 years. And I...I was the WIFE. The first legal daughter-in-law. I was the one that gave Craig what he wanted. I gave him the daughter he never had. She gave him...quinoa. No WAY this ‘ho is gonna swoop in and snag what I’ve rightfully earned! And then I figured it out. It’s not about some gluten-free grain. It’s, once again, about approval.

In-laws...it’s a tricky business. Next to finances and the Karadshians, it’s probably the number one hot button issue causing strife in marriages. They say, when you marry a man you marry his parents. I always thought this was bullshit. Then I got married for the first time. And I married 3 of the craziest motherf%&#@rs on the planet. So, this time around I wanted to be smarter. And I hit the in-law jackpot! For real. And I’m not just saying that cause I know they read my blog! They are truly the chillest, most supportive, most generous second parents I could ever hope for. They love me for me. And I love them for them. And as grandparents, they are simply a dream. Really. Now, I KNOW some of you are not as lucky as I am in the in-law department. Some of you are in situations that are VERY specific and VERY fucked up and I’m not trying to fix that for you. I’m not a doctor. Buuuut... holidays are upon us. And you’re gonna have to face them one way or another whether you like it or not, and here’s the deal: they want to be your FAMILY. Forget about who’s being passive aggressive and who’s being nit-picky or petty and just step up and be the matriarch. WWCMD? (What would Caroline Manzo do, right?) Don’t forget you’re also setting an example for your kids. And they hear and see EVERYTHING. This became quite evident to me recently, when 3 times last week Nora tried to french kiss me at bedtime and added “Carrie” into her goodnights. Carrie...Bradshaw??? Really? Oy vey. I guess I officially can no longer sneak "Sex and the City" reruns while she appears to be just coloring. Back to the in-laws: Stop treating them like your boyfriend’s parents and start treating them like your family. Stop tip-toeing around and making it awkward and uncomfortable and kick off your shoes and let your mom-in-law see you in a ponytail and no make-up. Stop trying to prove that you can do it all, and be honest about being up to your ears in gift wrapping and pee-wee football practice and holiday cookie party madness and she will step up. She will. I promise. Don’t forget: she has (or once had) a mother-in-law, too! We’re all JUST PEOPLE. And you happen to be a person who loves her son. And that’s all she’s ever wanted in the whole wide world. For her kid to be happy. Isn’t that what YOU want? For your kids (or future kids) to be happy? I do. And personally I don’t care if Nora or Pats came home with a man, a woman, a conservative wall street tycoon, or a quinoa-eating hippie. I want them to be happy. And stress-free. I want them to feel accepted and I want the person they’ve dedicated their life to to feel the same. 

I get it. The holidays are sooooooo stressful. But...why? I’m friggin’ over it. They shouldn’t be. Tis the season to be CELEBRATING. To be giving thanks for all the amazing blessings in our lives. To be rejoicing in the reality of MIRACLES. So if there’s two more people who want to spoil your kids, let them! If your father-in-law wants to talk about dry wall, or the Eagles, or Occupy Wall street...pour yourself another glass of pinot and let him. If your mother-in-law gives you shit about your gingerbread, suggest she make it this year. Or make it together. Swap recipes. Who knows? Maybe you can come up with an AMAZING pretencious peruvian tree bark dish together. Let’s band together as women and wives and mothers and vow to not get crazy this year. As Obama/Bob the Builder says YES WE CAN! (I mean, but really Obama? Sorry...but Bob said it first. And anyone with a pre-schooler knows you just straight up stole it. Boom. Busted.) And...maybe you just can’t. Or maybe you can but you just need a little help. So if you are at the end of your rope and your kids are safely in bed or there’s at least one sober adult eye on them, start rummaging through your bathroom. You MUST have at least one post c-section percocet hiding in there somewhere.  

PS: Ahhhndrea is long gone, but I still cringe at even the THOUGHT of quinoa. Bitch. Fa la la la la la la la la

My sexy and SINGLE  brother-in-law Serge.
http://serge-grumpyyoungman.blogspot.com/

My awesome in-laws, Gail and Craig
Baba and Gigi with Nora and Pats
Toronto,  August 2011

So, what to cook for your in-laws when they come over on a random night??? Whether you’ve been married for 30 days or 30 years, I think this stresses most gals out. I’ve thought a lot about this. Again, I’m not trying to brag, but this isn’t a huge issue for me. My in-laws (Baba and Gigi to the girls, and now to you) LOVE to eat. They aren’t picky and are always willing to try new things. Here’s my advice: cook what your COMFORTABLE with. Something you’ve made before or have confidence you can master your first time up to bat. The fewer ingredients and pots and pans needed, the better. It’s really about the gesture. Now, should you go SO far with the gesture to try and cook something from They’re not judging you to be the Next Iron Chef. Again, stop stressing. And if you really just can’t take it and want to order Chinese, then order Chinese. But if you do at least make dessert. Show them you’ve gone through a little effort just for them. It’s nice. This is kind of a fool proof recipe and maybe the easiest thing ever. You can adjust the spice level depending on everyone’s tastes and its easy clean up and even better as leftovers. 

CHICKEN ENCHILADAS

A little over a lb of chicken. Maybe 1 1/2 lbs. depending on the amount of people. Now theres several ways to deal with the chicken. You can use chicken breasts or chicken thighs. On the bone or not. With skin or without. OR you can go the grocery store and buy a rotisserie chicken for like $7.99 or whatever and take all the meat off. If you’re stressed about cooking, just do this. Nobody cares. 

10-12 medium tortillas or wraps not the HUGE burrito ones or the teeney tiny taco ones. There should be one in the middle. I usually go for the whole grain ones. There’s so much flavor in these guys that you might as well sneak in a little extra fiber. But if you like regular flour ones, go for it. I just wouldn’t use corn. 

2 cups shredded cheese, this would be one bag of the pre shredded or about a regular sized block from the dairy case. Monterrey jack, pepper jack, white cheddar, queso blanco, whatever. I use pepper jack when I make them. Use what you want, but I do think it should be a white cheese for this.

1 jar (16 oz) Salsa Verde or tomatillo salsa whatever you prefer, but it should be green. Salsa verde is sometimes not with all the regular salsas, but with the taco sauce near the Taco Dinner kits in the International aisle. I found an amazing tomatillo salsa at the farmer's market where we're staying here in La Jolla, CA. Santa Fe Seasons. Delicious.

2 cups chicken stock or water

Wondra, superfine flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

OK, if you’re using the store bought chicken:

Shred all the meat off the bones into a large bowl. Heat your chicken stock on the stove in a medium saucepan till it starts to simmer. Shake in the Wondra while whisking till you get a thin gravy. Taste it and add salt and pepper if need be. Toss chicken with gravy. You might just wanna eat this with a spoon. 

Boneless, skinless chicken thighs or breasts:

Cover chicken with stock in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil. Simmer for 10 minutes.   (breasts: 15-20 minutes).Take out chicken pieces and set aside. Thicken sauce and continue as above.

Place about 2 tbsp or so into the center of each tortilla. Fold the top over a bit. Then the bottom up. Now roll 1 1/2 times and place in sprayed baking dish seam side down. This is hard to explain, sorry. (We shot a video of all this and I was so excited! But...surprise, surprise...we couldn't get our shit together this week to finish editing. But videos will be coming soon! Pinky swear.) Once all your little yummy bundles are in your baking dish, cover with salsa. You may not need the ENTIRE jar after all. I like some of the tortilla still exposed, cause I like the crispy edges. Then sprinkle with cheese. Pop ‘em in the oven for about 15 minutes. We’re just really heating through and melting cheese. Chicken’s fully cooked. These are SO GOOD! 

BONUS: 

1)These freeze amazingly well. If you KNOW you’re going to freeze them ahead of time for YOUR family, I’d suggest stopping before topping them with the salsa and cheese. Then after the enchiladas are defrosted, top and bake. If you have leftovers, or you’re bringing them to a new mom or sick friend, don’t worry- they’ll still come out delish. Salsa might be a LITTLE watery, but nothing catastrophic. 

and

1. This is actually a pretty healthy meal. Especially if you do opt for the multi-grain tortillas. If you sub low fat cheese and chicken breasts, SUPER low in fat, and high in protein. So if you’re carefully watching what you eat, there ya go! And OBVI...these would be beYOND perfection with a Skinnygirl Margie. 

THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX!

Ok, so you can’t get your shiz together and Bamboo Dragon it is. At least take a few minutes and make dessert. Here we go:

SWERVE THE SCURV POUND CAKE

This zesty citrus cake is a no brainer and a winner every time. My older sister, Judy, taught me a trick to make regular box cake into “wedding cake.” Sub milk for water and double the eggs. I started experimenting with this formula and here’s one of the gems!

So follow the recipe on the back of the box, making those adjustments. Here’s how mine went down after a little glitzing up:

CAKE:

1 box yellow cake mix

1 cup milk I used skim ‘cause that’s what I happened to have in the house. I’m not sure it matters what the fat content of the milk is. 

1/3 cup veg oil (canola, corn, veggie, whatever. Just prob not olive oil for this one. You want a flavorless oil for baking. Although...I have in the past used olive oil for dark chocolate brownies and they were off the chain delicious.)

6 eggs

1 small lemon

1 lime

1-2 tsp each lemon, lime, and orange zest Those little clementines or satsumas you have laying around for the holidays would work fine too. A little harder to zest, but not a nightmare.

GLAZE:

1 cup powdered sugar I know it sounds like a lot. Trust me. It’s how ya make glaze.

1 tbsp lemon juice

2 tsp orange juice

1 tsp lime juice

Preheat oven according to package directions. Probably 350 degrees.

Mix cake ingredients in large mixing bowl for 2 minutes with electric hand mixer or whisk. Pour evenly into two small loaf pans. When I made this yesterday I used the throwaway foil ones that you would put banana bread in for your neighbor. Bake for 1 hour. You have one cake for your guests and 1 cake to freeze for a later date or stuff into your face later that night if someone’s mean to you. This glaze recipe is for 1 cake.

Prepare glaze by mixing sugar and juice in a small bowl with a fork or baby whisk. When cake is totally cooled, poke the top several times with a fork. Pour glaze over the cake. It will drip down the sides and soak into the cake. The drips look cool. The glaze will harden a little. Slice and serve. Yummmeee. And you’re getting your Vitamin C!

GIVING? THANKS.

Penelope (aka Pats), my 8 month old, has been busting through motor milestones since she first rolled over at 5 weeks. Sitting up, crawling, pulling to stand, cruising, climbing stairs...but about 3 weeks ago or so, she hit my favorite one: clapping. So, between her and Nora, I know have 2 people to applaud me. On command. Basically a dream come true. Yes, I’m into my kids doing parlor tricks. No, I’m not into baby beauty pageants. I mean, I’m into watching the train wreck on TV, just not into entering my children in them. Lie. I’m totally into them and would force them on my girls as often as possible, but my husband would surely leave me and take my babies from me. Humf. Doesn’t he realize how gorgeous AND brilliant AND hilarious AND entertaining our offspring are? Doesn’t he realize that for every $1,000 we spend on baby prostitute costumes and drive-thru McDonald’s we could potentially win up to $250 in cash and prizes. Man, that guy’s thick sometimes. I mean, I’m doing it for the children. Jeez. Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yeah: APPLAUSE. Well, more specifically, APPRECIATION. Why is it that the most difficult jobs seem to get the least appreciation? We put reality stars on pedestals, drowning them in money and accolades. (Side bar: this is in no way a dis on reality stars. It is my dream to be one of them. Soon.) But when’s the last time you drove by a guy working on a telephone wire, or hanging from a high rise washing windows and rolled down your window and shouted “Hey! Keep up the good work!”? I slap on some lashes and sing a few Patsy Cline songs: instant standing ovation. I spend 10 hours at home alone with 2 babies, up to my elbows in shit, keeping everyone fed, clean, napped and happy. All while, trying to prepare supper for my husband who will be starving when he arrives home and keeping the house clean to the standard that will make child services at bay and what do I get? A big fat nuthin’. OK, maybe a heartfelt thank you and a tongue kiss. But from the princesses I’ve been catering to all day? Technically nothing. Their shining faces smiling up at me? Yeah. More like a fist full of applesauce in my hair and a tantrum about some Elmo bowl that’s missing that I’m PRETTY sure we never owned in the first place. Oy vey.

Man, I’m such a pussy. SO many women do this day in and day out for the better part of 20 years! Stay at home with their kids, I mean. THESE WOMEN ARE MY HEROES. Or they’re bat shit crazy. I can’t decide which.I’ve been on the job for about 3 weeks on and off. Maybe I just suck at it. Maybe... I’m doing it wrong? I don’t get it. For real. Meaning, I don’t UNDERSTAND the requirements of my job. It’s truly insane. Maybe it’s the ages of my kids. Nora, 2, is pretty self-sufficient but still would strangle herself with a stray USB cable thinking it’s a princess necklace. And Pats-whew!-pulling herself up and starting to cruise...she literally needs an eye on her at all times. I recall one particular day a couple weeks ago where I didn’t pee for like 6 hours. I finally got a chance, looked to my right to find no toilet paper. Awesome. And, I can easily see how the stay at home mom could weigh 85 lbs or 385 lbs. I think all I ate over the course of the day one day was a spoonful of cold mac and cheese, and maybe the scraps off a stray lunch plate. That is until Nora FINALLY went down for her nap and I started shoving Halloween candy down my throat in the corner of the kitchen like an 8 yr old Jehovah’s Witness. And moms who say they only let there kids watch 30 minutes of TV a day?!?! Does that count DVDs and youtube? What do you do for the rest of the day? Seriously. I’m curious. Tell me. Play with blocks and do flashcards? ALL day? I’m not being a smart ass. I really need to know. Comment, please. Help! Oh my GOD. I just thought of women in the 50‘s...No PBS Kids or Nick Jr OnDemand? Fuuuck. Well...I guess they weren’t privy to the side effects at the time, and could smoke cigarettes all day and not feel bad about it. Ok. So they had that. 

I said to my friend Jen, in passing, “If you stay at home and raise your children all alone, when they reach their 18th birthday the government should give you, like $50,000 per kid or something.” Then I started really thinking about that and I did a little math. I knew I’d use it one day. So, based on the minimum wage of NYC x 365 days x 18 years... we’re talking $476,325! That’s nothing! Seriously. If a mother, after 18 years, provides society with an upstanding citizen with no criminal record and a high school diploma, she needs something. A kickback. Some cash. A Target gift card for crying out loud. And if she can prove she has no income outside of the home, shouldn’t she at least be provided with healthcare? (But that’s a horse of a different color. Let’s not go there. Just yet.) No. She needs SOMETHING. Right? God love them but she needs something more than a macaroni necklace and hug. Doesn’t she? Don’t you? Don’t I? Does that make me/you/her a terrible mother for needing more? I don’t know... I guess I’m just in the thick of it right now. Eventually Nora and Pats will go off to activities and school all day and play dates and (gasp) real dates. Eventually they will both be able to comprehend that I need to leave the room for 2 minutes to take a poop. Alone. I’m sure then feelings of loneliness and “now what?” will set it and I’ll be bitching to you about how my kids don’t need me anymore...sigh...

I know I’ve touched on “moments” before, but of all the motherhood cliches, I think I can now most wrap my head around the fact that you truly NEVER GET THIS TIME BACK. Work will always be there. 50 is the new 30. Hello? Demi Moore much? CATHY RIGBY much? That bitch is still flying playing “Peter Pan” and she’s, like, 112 years old. It’s never too late to start Pilates and there’s no age limit on afternoon pedicures. But your babies simply won’t be babies for long. Pats is fat and standing and it feels like a week ago she was legally blind with baggy knees. UNreal. So instead of feeling bitter that I’m “forced to be home,” I’m gonna start feeling overwhelmingly blessed to have this time with my girls that a lot of people don’t have the luxury of getting. I’m going to read “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” till my eyes blur. I’m going to let Nora change into 5 party dresses a day and dance in the living room with her as much as possible. I’m going to cuddle Pats on the couch till she falls asleep every night till she doesn’t want to anymore. Cause eventually...she won’t want to anymore. Sooner than later I’m sure my dancing will be “stupid,” and everything I do will be “so lame.” And someday I’m sure I’ll be on the other side of a slammed bedroom door, being emotionally crushed hearing, “I HATE YOU! I WISH I WAS NEVER BORN!” (shudder) Yikes. Way worse than watching the same episode of Fireman Sam 50 times. So, for now, I will breathe in every second of these little girls just being...little. I will wear my macaroni necklaces and greasy hair and chipped toenails with pride. And, yes, I will take that applause anyway I can get it.

Pats the Clapper, my biggest fan

So, this was our first Thanksgiving as a completed fam of 4. Also, the first where I hosted and cooked the entire meal. We just had a few of Jeremy’s work friends over. Very chill. Our guest were Canadian, and already celebrated Thanksgiving in October. That, added to the fact that I’m not super crazy about turkey, led me to a inspired-by but not necessarily a traditional menu. This works out good for you, cause you can take advantage of these recipes for the rest of the season! Here’s what I whipped up:

BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP w/ chicken-apple sausage

HERB CRUSTED PORK LOIN

STEEL-CUT STUFFING w/ cranberries

MASHED PARSNIPS w/ candied rosemary bacon

SAUTEED BUTTON MUSHROOMS

STRING BEANS

HOMEMADE CINNAMON APPLESAUCE (I forgot this in the fridge, and it never actually made it to the table...but it was delish!)

DARK CHOCOLATE BURBON BROWNIES

I greeted our guests with a “Patsy.” An awesome cocktail with the flavors of pear and ginger. Yes, please! I put out some cheese and crackers and grapes to munch on. Our guest brought a pie, some cookies, and some bread for the table. It was PERFECT.  I sent each of them home with small doggie bags, so we don’t have a disgusting amount of food leftover. Wasted food makes me CRAZY. It actually revolts me.

Most of these recipes you can find from previous entries. You can click on the highlighted ones and it’ll take you back. Here’s the rest. SO EASY.

THE PATSY

While I was pregnant with Pats, my number one craving was chewy candy. Specifically Juicy Pear Jelly Belly jelly beans. I dropped a small fortune on them regularly at Dylan’s Candy Bar in NYC. The smell of pears just makes me so happy now. It was a crazy but amazing pregnancy chock full of great memories. This drink pays homage to that time in my life and the gorgeous creature that came out of it. Also, it celebrates a holiday season when I don’t have a newborn or a fetus and I can finally drink again! This cocktail is sure to loosen up any gathering! I suggest having one and switching to wine or beer...

1 1/2 oz Absolut Pears vodka

Drizzle of agave nectar maybe 1/2 tsp?

Fresh lemon juice

Splash of ginger beer In a pinch, regular ginger ale would work fine. But the spiciness of real old fashioned ginger beer makes all the diff.

Fill a small rocks glass with crushed ice. Drizzle in a little agave and a couple tablespoons of lemon juice. Pour in vodka and top with a splash of ginger beer. Give it a little stir and enjoy! Responsibly.

BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP W/ CHICKEN APPLE SAUSAGE

1 package, fully cooked chicken-apple sausage. You can usually find this near the hot dogs in the grocery store. There’s a few different brands. Just make sure it says fully cooked. You could also use turkey kielbasa, or regular kielbasa, or any other fully cooked smoked sausage. 

3 boxes, frozen squash. In  the frozen veg aisle. Sometimes it says butternut squash, sometimes just squash or winter squash. they come in boxes just like frozen chopped spinach does. 

1 box (4 cups), chicken stock 

salt

pepper

cinnamon

red pepper flakes 

All the spices to taste. I add just a tiny pinch of the pepper flakes, and a sprinkle of cinnamon. If you like it spicier, add more. 

Slice up sausage into about 1/4 inch rounds. If you like bigger chunks, cut ‘em bigger. In the bottom of a nice sized pot drizzle a tiny bit of olive oil and brown up the sausage for just a minute or two over med heat. Add in frozen squash, stock, spices. Cover. Bring to a boil, everything will melt together. Bring down for a simmer for as little as 10 minutes, just for the flavors to marry. Boom. Done. You can make this the day before, or early that morning. It just gets better and better as it sits and thickens up a bit. I had it for breakfast the next morning (actually so did Nora!) and it was AMAZING!

HERB CRUSTED PORK LOIN

I think this may be the best “main” protein dish I’ve ever made! Just sayin! You can make this ahead of time and pop it in the oven for supper. 

In case you're not familiar with pork tenderloin, here she is. Naked.

2 loins of pork A lot of stores sell them in a 2-pack. If not, just get 2. Unless it’s just for a date night. Then, split recipe in half. But for 4 or more people trust me, get 2. There may be leftovers, but it will NOT go to waste. WAY easier to slice up a pork loin for sandwiches, than dragging the whole turkey carcass out of the fridge. 

1 stick of butter, softened

1/2 grated parmesan cheese

1 cup panko (japanese-style) bread crumbs

Fresh rosemary, sage, thyme use whatever quantities of each you like, just so you end up with about a 1/2 c combined. I went heavy on the sage cause it was Thanksgiving. You can also use other herbs (parsley, tarragon, etc) if you like them better. but this was a SUPER delicious combination.

1 shallot, finely chopped

2 cloves garlic, finely chopped

Mix shallot, garlic, herbs, breadcrumbs and cheese into softened butter in a medium bowl. Place pork side by side in a foil lined baking dish and pat dry with a paper towel.  Salt and pepper both sides of meat. Split butter mixture down the middle and spread half on each loin. “Smooshing” it down with your hands works best. Done. It goes in a preheated 350 degree oven, uncovered for 1 hour. Then cover loosely with foil and continue to cook for 15-20 more minutes until your meat thermometer reads 160 degrees. Let meat rest 20 minutes before slicing and serving. If you don’t, all the juices will run out and the meat will be dry. Please make this. Its so f-ing good.

STEEL-CUT STUFFIN’

For Thanksgivin’, to the original recipe I added 1 stalk of celery when I sauteed the apple and onion, swapped chicken stock for beef stock, and stirred in 1/2 cup of dried cranberries at the end. I omitted the greens, but feel free to keep ‘em in.

MASHED PARSNIPS W/ CANDIED ROSEMARY BACON

Ok. Parsnips. This year I became obsessed with making parsnips. Never made them before. Never even tasted them before. They talk about them on an episode of Curious George that Nora watches over and over, so they were on the brain. Anyhoo, they’re super yummy. Basically like a combo between a carrot and a potato. Really just like a big, fat, white carrot. An interesting switch up from the same old mashed potato. 

2-3 lbs of parsnips

Pre-peeled, pre-diced parsnips

2 tbsp butter

Half and half, milk, cream, whatever

salt 

pepper

YUM!

Make the bacon and set aside. In a previous post I call it WORLD FAMOUS BACON. Peel parsnips and chop into a large dice. Place in a large pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil for about 7 minutes, or until fork tender. Drain. Pour back into hot pot. Add butter. Add a little milk and start mashing. Add more milk if you like them looser. Just watch as you go. I like mine with a little chunky texture. Salt and pepper to taste. Chop up bacon and scatter on top. I suppose you could mix it in if you like, but I like it just on the top. Totally different. Totally good. GREAT holiday side dish!

SAUTEED MUSHROOMS

1 lb button mushrooms

1 large shallot, thinly sliced

Drizzle of olive oil

2 tbsp butter

salt

pepper

Beyond easy. The mushrooms I bought even came pre-washed. If yours don’t, simply  brush off any dirt with a damp towel. Don’t run them under water. Place a large skillet over medium heat. Add olive oil and butter. Add shallots and sautee for a few minutes till softened. Add mushrooms and cook for another 10 minutes or so till shrooms are brown and delicious looking. THEN add salt and pepper. If you add salt to the mushrooms right when you put them in the pan, they’ll come out tough. Another simple sidedish: done and delicious.

STRING BEANS

This is barely a recipe. Clean and break the little end nubbers of the beans. Drop in boiling water for about 7 minutes. Drain. Butter. Salt. Eat. Don’t wanna eat butter? Olive oil. Salt. Eat. Personally, I wanna taste the vegetable. Not the cream of mushroom soup. Whoa. Yeah, I said it.

HOMEMADE CINNAMON APPLESAUCE

I make all of Penelope’s baby food from scratch. Nora ate everything from a jar. I wanted to make a real effort to stick to it this time around and I have to tell you, it’s been SO EASY and SO worth it. I actually bought that Baby Bullet! As seen on TV! It’s been the BEST. I highly recommend it to anyone who has a new baby or is about to. We ordered our online for about $60. I’ve gotten my money’s worth over and over again. Anyhoo, Pat’s LOVES cinnamon. She wolfs down anything with cinnamon in it. This applesauce is truly the best I’ve ever tasted. No added sugar. No added anything. Just apples. And cinnamon. 

3 large apples, on Thursday I chose Pink Ladys. They are so sweet and good, but use what you like.

1/2 tsp cinnamon

Peel and dice apples. Place into a medium saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil and let cook for about 5 minutes, till apples are fork tender. Pour apples (reserve cooking water) into Baby Bullet, blender, or food processor. Pulse to desired consistency. Add a bit of the cooking liquid if need be to loosen it up a bit. So amazing with the pork. It would also be off the hook with homemade latkes for Chanukah. Oooh! I just thought of that and I’m totally doing it. Or, just as a healthy side dish or snack anytime.

My partially devoured plate: (clockwise from left) parsnips, string beans, steel-cut stuff in', shrooms, roll, pork

I hope you try some of these dishes over the holidays and let me know how they turn out!