A Day of Pizza


I am really going all out with pizza today. But not in the traditional sense.  I am taking the expected ingredients–marinara, cheese, and pepperoni–and using them in strange ways. First up this afternoon was pizza biscuits. I took the regular whomp biscuits, cut slits into them, and slipped in a spoonful of marinara sauce, spoonful of ranch sauce (why not?!), a pepperoni or two, and a large pinch of cheese. Then I sealed up the edges and baked them like normal biscuits. Henry said: Can you make these always forever? (not the child, the adult).  Needless to say, they were a hit.

Tonight, I am turning those same ingredients into Pizza Pasta. Here’s the breakdown.


  • 1 pound whole wheat pasta, your choice of style. I used penne.
  • some meat sauce I had in the freezer. Several cups? Use however much you’d normally use for a pound of pasta.
  • 1/2 cup ranch mixed with 1/2 cup ricotta
  • Grated cheese
  • Pepperonis


1.  Boil the pasta, but do not cook it all the way. Leave it a little raw. It will continue to cook in the oven.

2.  Layer the pasta down on some meat sauce in a baking dish. Half of the pasta goes down. Put down a sprinkle of cheese and all of the ricotta/ranch mixture. Then add the second half of the pasta, and the meat sauce on top of that. Then more cheese, and then your pepperonis.

3.  Bake it at 425 until it’s done. 30-45 minutes, I think. 

pizza pasta


Giada’s Parmesan Crusted Pork Chops with Bobby’s Greek Potatoes (and pie!)

Giada’s Parmesan Crusted Pork Chops with Bobby’s Greek Potatoes (and pie!)

This afternoon, I tried to drink a slimfast. The three year old slowly came towards me, licking his lips: “Is that called chocolate milk, Jenn?” He whimpered and crept closer.  I took a drink. He eyeballed me. The six year old corrected him: “No! It has protein. It makes Jenn strong.”

I just sat there and wondered if it would be ok to lock myself in my bedroom for the rest of the day.

Instead of running away for the rest of the afternoon, we took the kids to the park to play.  We amassed a snail army, ate blackberries we found, and took turns down the fireman’s pole.  and when we got home, I made Parmesan crusted pork chops, Greek potatoes, green beans, and a fairy pie (also known as a raspberry lemon refrigerator pie).


The kids wolfed it down. I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Recipes are linked above. Changes I made were minimal. I added frozen raspberries to the pie to make it pink and that was about it.



Sometimes I’m a gourmet–and sometimes I write on the kids’ grilled cheese sandwiches with easy cheese

Sometimes I’m a gourmet–and sometimes I write on the kids’ grilled cheese sandwiches with easy cheese

You never know the depth or breadth of your stress and emotional triggers until you are crying over a burnt grilled cheese sandwich.

Tonight, I needed to make an easy dinner. Grilled cheese and tomato soup is that simple, satisfying meal that the kids and I both love. I set out punching geometrical shapes into the bread for their sandwiches. I toasted them. Dished up the soup. Had a flash of silliness–and I found the easy cheese in the cupboard. I wrote their initials into their sandwiches and arranged them on plates. I announced “Annabel’s restaurant is open,” which is the nightly dinner bell in our house.

I turned to show them their cheesy initials and in those 20 seconds, I burned my husband’s sandwich. And I cried. Moments from my childhood flashed through my mind–pressure, stress, cruelty at the hands of a cold, distant mother. Failure. I am not cut out for this. I am a bad wife and parent.  Crazy flooded my mind and I blinked and blinked until I couldn’t blink anymore and tears dumped in wet, sloppy puddles on my cheeks. Henry’s eyes flashed irritated and I reddened in frustration, emotion, and shame. The adrenaline of anxiety had taken oven and all I could do was ride the wave.

Reflecting now, I understand that even when the kids aren’t interested in my dinner, or a dinner ends up in the garbage, I am my own worst critic. The kids dance and laugh and hug me all evening. The husband thanks me and runs his fingers through my hair. And in a loop–like a scratched record–I hear my mother’s voice in my head. Until I take the time to let the little voices laughing drown it out. You cannot cry for long when a three year old is raising his eyebrows at you and winking.

How to cook for small children: a case study


The first meal I made for the kids was smothered pork chops. I coated lean pork chops in flour, seasoned with Cajun seasoning, salt, pepper, and sage. Then I browned them in butter on both sides, moved them to a plate, made gravy in the pan I took them from, and then slid the pork into the gravy once it thickened. They loved it–I remember the six year old saying: “Jenn, I love your chicken!” I started to say: “That’s por–” Then Henry cut me off. “Say it’s chicken,” he said under his breath. From that day forward, I learned that feeding these kids involves a lot of fibbing.

Once I got confident in feeding them meals they’d actually eat, I’d start hearing: Well, Mommy cooks it this way…or Grandma does this…and then all of my new found confidence would disappear, leaving me like a deflated balloon. But I kept trying. For six months, I made them a different kind of muffin each week for breakfast. Cherry walnut, peach pie chia muffins–you name it, I tried it. And when I got home from work each day, I’d walk into the kitchen, where they ate, and step on the dried fruit and nuts they picked out of their muffins.

I learned that these kids will put away a dozen scrambled eggs like it’s no one’s business. I also learned that they would rather have plain pancakes, which they will eat by the stuffed mouthful, instead of whole wheat with blueberries.

I have learned that something they loved last month will be rejected this month. I learned that I can mature their palates by slowing introducing strange ingredients into their normal favorites. I learned that I can say: Eat it anyway.

I learned that half of their meal will inevitably end up on the floor or smeared into the seat cushions of their chairs. I have learned that if Daddy eats it, so will the three year old. i have learned that I have to give Daddy “the look” so that he takes some salad and eats it with forced cheerfulness. I have seen these kids inhale cornbread dripping with butter and honey–and feign interest in the chili just so that they get another piece of cornbread.


Pizza at Northfork Brewery

As I have learned to feed them, I have grown into this stepmommy role–and my confidence no longer hinges on whether or not they eat my dinner. Although some nights, when they turn up their noses at something EVERY OTHER PERSON IN THE WORLD WOULD EAT, I am tempted to open them up a can of dog food and go cry in my room. But that’s completely normal, right?




I have been pining over this recipe for years. Years. But I never wanted to attempt it until I tried it in a restaurant, so that I knew what I was aiming for. I could not wait any longer. And I’m so glad that this recipe is now in my repertoire. Here’s the recipe that I adapted from Serious Eats.


  • 1 cup flour
  • 1 cup dashi (I used instant)
  • 2 eggs
  • pinch of salt (will use a larger pinch next time)
  • 1 cup shrimp, raw
  • 4 slices raw bacon, halved
  • 4 cups cabbage, shredded. I used coleslaw mix
  • sesame seeds
  • kewpie mayo
  • sriracha
  • okonomi sauce
  • pickled ginger
  • green onions


Combine flour, dashi, eggs, cabbage, shrimp, scallions, and salt. This recipe makes two LARGE pancakes, so take half of the batter and fry it up. When it’s getting brown on the first side, add the raw bacon to the wet side. Flip, carefully, and brown bacon on second side. Cook longer than you think you need to and be careful not to burn it.

Add the rest of the condiments to your taste when it’s done cooking.

Notes: Next time I will make small pancakes to ensure even cooking. I am also excited to try different variations. The husband is allergic to shrimp–and he ate two today.  He’s not feeling it. So I have to think of a replacement. Imitation crab? We’ll see.

International Mash-ups: Fusion or Imperialism?


globeOn my stove bubbling away are a pot of spaghetti sauce and some pork simmering in a chile sauce. A little Italian, a little Mexican–all filtered through my white American palate and understanding of food. You see it all of the time–fusion food can either be amazing, like Korean tacos, or abysmal.  As I was scrolling through some food blogs this evening, I came across this: Aussie Burger: Portuguese Style. The beets and pineapple make it Australian (kinda weird, Aussies…), but Portuguese?  Sambal oelek is definitely not Portuguese. It’s Indonesian, according to the all knowing Wikipedia. It gets more interesting:


“Oelek is a Dutch spelling which in modern Indonesian spelling has become simply ulek; both have the same pronunciation. Ulek is Indonesian special stoneware derived from common village basalt stone kitchenware still ubiquitous in kitchens, particularly in Java. The Ulekan is a mortar shaped like a hybrid of a dinner and soup-plate with an old, cured bambooroot or stone pestle (ulek-ulek) employed in an ulek manner: a crushing and twisting motion (like using a screwdriver) for crushing lime leaves, chilies, peppers, shallots, peanuts, and other kinds of ingredients.”

So somehow the Dutch are involved?

I read Coconut and Lime’s explanation of how their burger is Portuguese, and it’s because the Portuguese don’t serve their burgers with buns.  The fried egg makes an appearance because that was a common adornment to Portuguese burgers.

A simple dish–ground beef and some condiments–made by an American, takes a trip to Australia via Portugal,  and then Denmark and Indonesia show up to the party.  (I haven’t even brought up the fact that a hamburger is from…where? Germany? I know its origins are contested…)

Is this common around the world? I mean, obviously, colonialism has shaped food around the world, which is why Vietnam’s cuisine is heavily French influenced.

I’d love some feedback. What are your experiences with fusion food? Culinary colonialism? Just throwing stuff together because it tastes good?

***Disclaimer: This is in no way a critique of Coconut and Lime’s food or blog. Their recipe just got me thinking. I love their blog and recipes–so please spend time on their site and enjoy!

Obligatory apology for long absence

Obligatory apology for long absence

Half of the reason it’s so hard to get back into blogging after a long hiatus is the explanation I have to give as to why I was absent, and how I vow to turn over a new leaf and boy you guys, get ready for this new chapter in my life. I cringe to think how many times I have done that little song and dance since starting this blog.

So, I am not doing that. Instead, I am going to tell you that I have been ruminating about blogging and I think I am finally ready to stick my toe back into the vast ocean of information we call blogging. 

Well, since I am foregoing the apology, I’ll just jump right in.  I got married last month. Here are the highlights.


wedding1 wedding2 wedding3


You can see we had wedding pie, an ominous, stormy backdrop to the ceremony, and lots of dancing. It was a whirlwind, kind of soggy, very emotional, fun, and perfect. After the wedding, we spent a few days at Yosemite.  That consisted of lots of driving, terrible California drivers, triple digit temperatures, hiking, arguing, having conversations with the GPS, and long train rides.  Highlights: Yosemite Rose Bed and Breakfast, sushi with family and friends, swimming, and listening to A Song of Ice and Fire on the train and in the jacuzzi tub. And the whole being married part was pretty cool, too. 🙂

We came back to a messy apartment, family drama, and an intimidating “to do” list. Then Henry sliced his toe off (well, not off, but nearly off). So now we are sitting around, waiting for it to heal. He’s not even supposed to be walking around. The long and short of this rambling exposition is that summer has been an adventure so far and we have quite a bit of summer left.

The sitting around the apartment has had its benefits. One of them being I stumbled upon two recipes that I am scheming to make.  The first is okonomiyaki. I have never had this dish before–and I have never spoken with anyone who has eaten it or made it. I’m just intrigued. I went to the Asian grocery store yesterday and got kewpie mayo, pickled ginger, and okonomi sauce. The rest of the ingredients are fresh and I’ll be able to get them from Winco.

The next recipe is for gingersnaps made with…bacon grease instead of butter. I plan on using bacon in the okonomiyaki and reserving the fat for the cookies. Ridiculous? But of course! Stay tuned…