Hippie-Dippy Granola Mom.

I should have realized I was skipping down this road when we started out this whole, raw, juicing, unprocessed food thing.  I am officially one of those moms that makes kids homemade granola bars because there's too many preservatives, sugar, and unpronouncable chemicals.  Plus, and this may be oversharing, but my kids are poop hoarders.  Let me explain.

They both have hereditary bowel problems; they don't poop for a week and then they howl while passing a fencepost. It's horrible, just horrible.  About a year ago we started giving them Miralax in their milk with dinner, and now they are just regular gals.  However, it's always really bothered me that we tried what should naturally work (no dairy/bananas/breads, tons of fruit and veggies) and nothing worked except giving them this "polyether compound with many applications from industrial manufacturing to medicine."  Really?  Industrial manufacturing?  I can't believe this stuff is sold for consumption.  So tonight I looked for a granola recipe. 

I found a recipe for Healthy Nut-Free Granola Bars on SweetGirlConfections.com.  Instead of using a 9 x 13 pan, I made a double batch and used a jelly roll pan.  They turned out beautifully.

I omitted the brown sugar entirely, and I didn't have any wheat germ.  I used 3/4 cup organic dried cranberries instead of 1/2 cup raisins and 1/4 cup cranberries.  Instead of butter I used melted coconut oil.  I also threw in a tablespoon or two of poppy seeds, and a couple of tablespoons of millet, for crunch.

Homemade high-fiber granola bars is one half of the equation.  The other half is what Miralax actually does:  it holds water in the stool and that's what softens it and helps move it along, which acts like peristalsis in moving material along in the bowel.  Water is the other component of this experiment.  I plan on being Nazi Poop Patrol every morning and make them drink 8 ounces of water as soon as they wake up, before they can watch TV.  Then they need to drink another 8 ounces with their breakfast granola bar.  Jess can take one to school for snack, or she can take her usual snack of an apple or carrot and celery sticks.  In the evening, they need to drink 8 ounces of water before dinner, and if they choose to have a granola bar after dinner, they need to drink 8 ounces of water with that as well.  Since they only get dessert on Tuesdays and Fridays, I am thinking they'll jump at the chance of any sort of treat after dinner every night.  Especially ones that look as inviting as these, right?

I hope this regimen, along with our new habit of having a big green salad before "real dinner" (per Jessica) every night, and using more whole grains and vegetables and less meat in our "real dinner", will have some real effect on their digestive problems.

Here's hopin' for poopin'.

Our first quinoa recipe. Success!

On Sunday I was looking through one of the blogs I like to read, The Healthy Foodie.  She seems like a nice, down-to-earth person, and she takes way better pictures of food than I do. 

While browsing through her recipes, I came upon one for Quinoa Cakes and Poached Eggs.  Oh my.  Be still my heart!  I love poached eggs, and there's nothing finer than whole wheat toast breaking open an over-easy yolk.  We'll definitely try that some Sunday soon.

However, we were looking for recipes for weeknight dinners, so we decided to put the quinoa cakes on top of big green salads, with avocado, cucumber, red peppers, tomatoes, sliced almonds, paper-thin discs of radish, and a drizzling of Lime Ginger Dressing. 

The quinoa cakes called for bread crumbs.  Using our delicious homemade bread crumbs instead of the sawdust-textured store-bought variety was a very satisfying feeling.  For the cheese, we used a few ounces of gouda.



The quinoa cakes were fried in about 2 T. EVOO, and the recipe made nine 4-inch cakes.



 

I changed the dressing recipe up a bit.  I grated the fresh ginger, and omitted the garlic.  I substituted honey for the sugar, and 2 T. EVOO + 1 T. garlic grapeseed oil instead of the vegetable oil.  I also added a splash of white wine vinegar.  We had both jalapenos and jicama on hand, so I added both.  Then I blended the whole lot in a bullet-style processor.

Now that I've written up all the changes I made to the dressing, I see that I probably created an entirely different dressing in the end.  Well, either way, it was very good.  I picked it originally because I was looking for a dressing with both sweet and tart components, to play opposite the slightly salty flavor of the cheese in the cakes, and the comparably unctuous, crunchy fried crust.  All of those qualities were also complimented beautifully by the big chunks of avocado, and the sharp bite of radish.

The quinoa cakes were so satisfying.  The crunch, the flavor, the texture, the warmth, were all perfect pairings with the fresh crispy romaine and tender spring greens.  Definitely a winner!

The Farmers Taft

My but we are embracing the agrarian lifestyle lately.  Farmer Taft is preparing for spring, and lustfully thumbing through seed catalogs.  He mentioned to me yesterday that he is thinking about sprouting his own seeds this spring using peat sprouting trays.  I think he said that the tray itself with 30 peat sprout containers was $50, and the peat refills for the tray were $20 for 30. 

I reminded him of the magazine cover I pointed out at the grocery store a few weeks ago that showed little sprouts coming up out of an eggshell.  So today when we made quiches for lunch we saved the eggshells. 

  

I guess the thing to remember is when you're planting your little sprouts (shell and all), just make sure to crush it a bit so the roots have an easier time getting through to the soil.

Saturday I had some time to myself, so I went to Slow Pokes in Grafton to check it out.  I found some organic raw milk cheese, grass-fed organic beef, and better prices on raw cacao and coconut oil than I'd found online.  The produce and meat are all local.  For example, the beef I got came from Kay's HomeFarm Meats, just outside of Cedarburg.  I'm very happy to have found this wonderful, reasonably-priced source for local organic produce and meats. 

Saturday night I decided to try out a raw recipe, so I checked out Ani Phyo's Raspberry Ganache fudge Cake video on YouTube.  Here's the recipe, and here's the pics. 

Richard's summation:  "This is GOOD.  Wow.  You could take this up north and they'd never know it wasn't just a flourless cake, that it was raw."

Pretty high praise, that you could fool the folks up north!

One last project this weekend was to take the breads out of the freezer that I'd been saving to make bread crumbs, and actually make the bread crumbs.  I used two lovely rustic-style loaves from a local bakery that we hadn't been able to eat before they got stale.  I let them thaw, and cut them up into cubes before putting them on a cookie sheet and drying them in the oven at 300 degrees for about 25 minutes.  After a few spins in the food processor, I ended up with a 3-cup container of high-quality bread crumbs that will be part of some lovely home-cooked dish in the future.

Yum!

Criminal Behavior.

I am a criminal.  I wasn't caught, but I did the crime.  I calmly and guiltlessly went through the Self-Checkout and stole these two chocolate bars tonight:

Inadvertant shoplifting.  Have you ever done it?  Did you fess up, even if you'd made it all the way to your car?  This wasn't wrong change from the cashier, that I could correct with a question (which I do on an alarmingly regular basis - how much wrong change do I pay for in mark-up on goods??)  I didn't realize I'd shoplifted these until I got out to my car with the cart, popped my trunk, moved a bag, and the chocolate bar fell down from in front of my purse to the bottom of the cart.

When I realized what I'd done, emotions flickered through me like northern lights:  guilt, fear, elation, fear, smugness, guilt, and then finally, victory.  I'm not sure why that last one was in there but I noted it because it was so .... American.  To feel victorious about something we absolutely did NOT intend to do, but turned out well.  Like a slop shot in pool, or hitting all the green lights on a street without having to slow down.

So I guess if the Grafton Five-0 want to arrest me, they have reasonable suspicion.  But according to Wikipedia, they do not have probable cause, and I guarantee the evidence of my crime will be long gone.

Whole Grains!

Richard and I are dragging our reluctant children on a new adventure - whole/raw food and juicing!  For two and a half weeks we've been on the no-processed-food train, and we're feeling good.  We have tons of fresh veggies and fruit everyday, both in juice form and raw food form.  We're cooking healthier, using whole grains and less meat, and we've switched to about 75% organic.  Our goal is 100% organic. 

I have been drinking LOTS of water, and whenever I have a processed food craving, it's usually because I've forgotten to drink water in the last hour or so and my body is trying to tell me it's thirsty.  So I drink a couple of long pulls from my filtered water bottle, and poof!  The craving is gone. 

I have been craving carbohydrates, however, and so I have been nosing around the internet for whole grain, organic, healthy recipes for breads and sweets.  Sunday night I made a - well, let's call it "rustic" - loaf of Flax Seed Wheat Bread.  It didn't rise very well because in addition to the generous amount of flax seeds the recipe called for, I loaded it down with sesame seeds, pepitas (pumpkin seeds), sunflower seeds, and poppy seeds.  I have never made bread before so it was only AFTER it was very much not rising that I started looking into what not to do with bread. 

However, it did turn out edible, but I would not use all the seeds next time, just the flax seeds.  I also read through the comments posted to the blog I found this recipe on, and people who used milled flax seeds found out that was an oops too, because milled flax really soaks up the moisture in this recipe. 

So here it is, my beautiful brown rustic little brick:

Within 20 minutes of pulling this out of the oven, and with dinner running an hour late and 5 hungry people hovering in the kitchen, it was down to this:

And then there was one.  It was on my plate, and it was loaded with organic strawberry jam:

I also made some Apple Oatmeal Whole Wheat Muffins.  Delicious!  I didn't take any pictures, but I will next time.  There will definitely be a next time.

For the last few weeks, I've been daydreaming about chocolate chip cookies, and wondering what in the world I was going to do about it.  All things in moderation works pretty well with many things, but chocolate chip cookies is not among them. 

So tonight I searched for some healthier version of chocolate chip cookies.  I knew I wouldn't find a completely healthy substitute, but I was looking for something with less or no refined sugar, and using whole wheat so they were more satisfying than white flour cookies.  I found a great recipe in Healthy Whole Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookies, on diynatural.com.

They turned out chewy, moist, and very, very satisfying to my sweet tooth, without being overly sweet. Just perfect!

Well, as we continue our dive into this new territory, I'll keep posting recipes we've tried.  Even the ones that brick out.  :)

My Husband is Famous, and I Get to Shag Him

Richard was in another episode of Hoarders this week (Judy and Jerry).  It was filmed in June of this year.  We spent Monday evening at our friends' house to watch the show.  Click here if you'd like to watch the episode.

He was in an episode last year too, but he only got about 3 seconds of camera time.  This time, he had about 7 appearances.  He was even shoveling the living room in one shot.  (In another shot, he bent over, butt to camera.  I *loved* it!  He has the cutest butt!  Don't tell him I told you that.)

The head organizer on the episode is Geralin Thomas, who's always been one of my favorite organizers on the show.  Here's she and Richard at the hoarder's house in June:

How cute is she??  And Richard says she's a sweetheart in person too.  Of course, all women just instantly love Richard, so he sees them at their best.

He's my sweetie, and he's famous.  And I get to shag him.

Children Are Our Future

A few weeks ago, Richard and I took the girls to visit their grandma in the hospital.  Halfway through the visit, AFTER hugs and kisses, she told us she has MRSA. MRSA is a highly contagious, highly antibiotic-resistant staph bacteria.  On our way out of the visit, the nurse sternly told us to go home and shower immediately.  We were appropriately horrified, and went home to take some nice long Silkwood showers.

The next day, we told the girls to watch for red bumps, after explaining what MRSA was and why we were to be watchful. We had our We're Serious But Don't Be Scared faces on.  They listened soberly, and then continued hitting each other with magic wands and shrieking.

Since then, our little hypochondriac Jessica has been telling us about every single tiny red dot on her entire body.  Last night, there were three on her thigh. They're nothing. Dry skin, or a rogue capillary, perhaps a wee pimple. They were smaller than the tip of a ballpoint pen.

I am so tired of those searching eyes, that gleeful, hopeful anticipation that something will be terribly wrong.  I asked her last night if she's very worried about MRSA.  Eyes shining and lips twitching trying not to smile, she tugged a frown into place and said, Yes, Mommy. 

I asked her if she'd like to see pictures of MRSA.  She nodded soberly.  Shining.  Twitching.

I googled "MRSA infection" on my phone.  To save you a new tab on your browser, click here for what I found.  (Do NOT click if you are pregnant or think you may be pregnant, have a delicate stomach, or are having a snack right now. Just sayin'.)

I told her they're pretty gory, and asked if she was sure.  She said yes.  I slowly turned my phone screen toward her.  She looked for about 3 seconds, literally turned on her heel and said, Well, I don't have THAT.  She looked a bit green around the gills. 

I think I may have seen the last of the Red Dot Brigade.

Happy Halloween.

You know, I was going to make this post like a happy little farty post with a cartoony picture of pumpkins or ghosts or some crap like that, and then I (finally) realized that I'm just not that gal.  Never have been, never will be.  To illustrate my point, I have a pair of Halloween socks in my drawer that I've had for going on seven years now.  Every single Halloween I either forget I have them or decide not to wear them, and then don't wear them.  They shuffle to the back of the sock drawer for another year, to be dutifully hauled out next September as I shrug back into my delusional anticipation of being that gal. 

Today, I threw away the orange socks with cutesy black spiders on them.  Happy Halloween.

Not even once.

This is my thumb. It hurts. When I try to bend it, it's sort of stiff and crunchy, and and I have to wiggle it and finally it will crack and pop and I can bend it.

It is such a useful thumb. It has knitted miles of yarn and typed millions of keystrokes. It has cheerfully and cooperatively helped fill a glove for years.

So what happened? I'll tell you. It held a cell phone for about 16 hours this weekend. I dared to use my newfound cell phone app capacity (thanks, Mitch!) to download Angry Birds. I dared, and it bit me in the ass. I'm addicted, and what's worse, I had all the warning in the world not to do it. Everybody gets addicted to this game. I thought my general game-playing negative-skill quotient would protect me, but I got hooked. I just wanted a taste. To see what all the fuss is about. I just wanted a puff, a snort, a tab, just one little hit, just a little clarity, a little corner of coolness to call my own.

I was driving yesterday and there were three cars in two lanes ahead of me. Idly, I calculated the angle I'd have to throw an angry bird to get all three in one shot. I blinked a couple of times when I realized what I was doing.

This is your brain. This is your brain on Angry Birds. Don't do Angry Birds. Not even once.

John Malkovich Teaches Me SQL

This week, I am in SQL training in Brookfield through Wednesday.  John Malkovich is teaching the class.  At least, his doppelganger is, and holy SHIT is he irritating.  He uses long, dramatic pauses after almost every sentence, punctuated by exaggerated facial expressions of boredom and idiocy.  This comedy set would make a nun yearn for a 2-drink minimum.

To pass a few moments, I inconspicuously recorded 8 minutes in class with my cell phone voice recorder.  Tonight, because he is the light of my life, I made Richard listen to a good 4 minutes of Malkovich's comedy routine in bed.  He finally blinked up at me, one earbud dangling, and told me he didn't need to listen anymore, because he totally, totally got my point.

To cap off this experience, we also have a system update going live at work on Tuesday night.  My part of it is barely coded, and not tested.  As far as I can tell, and this is after a lot of analyzing, this is a direct result of me being a piss-poor planner.  What really, really blows about this situation, even more than me having to put pressure on our lovely and talented corporate beta tester to holy-shit-this-has-to-be-tested-yesterday, is that my lovely and talented coworker and partner in Progress crime has to pick up the slack because I can't get to my desktop while I'm at training.  The timing of this training and this system update just suck in so very many ways. 

Lunch was one fucked up bag of crazy today too.  We got an hour break for lunch.  I found a local Metro Mart and I was happy because they have good soup.  Not Larry's good, but pretty decent for a grocery store.  And much cheaper than Panera.  So I drove into the Metro Mart in Brookfield off of Bluemound, parked my car, and went in.  I got my soup, and a salad, and checked out in the self-check line (this is turning out to be a very alone-time intensive week, between not talking to my coworkers because I'm not at work and not talking to my husband after the kids go to bed because I'm dialing in to work until we sleep). I headed back out to to my car, enjoying the brisk air and sunshine on a fall day.  I was distantly following a man pushing a cart.  The man was probably 40, dressed business casual, had small round glasses, walking briskly and cheerfully.  He pushed his cart between my car and the car parked next to me, a late model Mercury Milan.  As I was reaching my car, the Milan owner (a large african-american man, also business casual and about 40, was sitting in it) beeped his horn at Glasses man.  Glasses man kind of smiled like, what's the joke?  Milan man started yelling in his car with the windows up that Glasses man hit his car with the cart.  Glasses man was shocked and apologetic, and said he didn't know he had hit it. (I didn't hear/see it, but it would have happened out of my view because I was further behind and the Milan blocked my view.)  Milan man got out and said, what kind of person hits another man's car when he's sitting right in it, and doesn't stop to see if there was any damage?  Glasses man again said he didn't hit the car, and he didn't see him sitting in it, and starts walking (briskly - perhaps he doesn't walk any other way?) towards Milan man's car.  Milan man now stomps around to the passenger side of the Milan, which was directly outside my car window, where I am now huddled behind my wheel, doors locked, thinking to myself, seriously?  We're all business casual in Brookfield at the Metro Mart and you guys are going to go all "gangstah"?  So by now Milan man and Glasses man are in each other's faces, literally like 3 inches apart, yelling about SHOW ME WHERE I HIT IT and YOU BETTER BACK THE F*** OFF and WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO NOW, HUH? at each other.  At this point I started looking around for the hidden camera.  This has to be a "punked" thing or a Borat thing or something along those lines, because these two Brookfield office guys have turned into two GET YOUR ASS AWAY FROM ME AND INTO THAT CAR, BITCH very-Jerry-Springer people while dressed in business casual with unremarkable loafers.  I decided it would be imprudent to stick around, because really, I just didn't need to see any more car-momma drama.


I went back to the training facility and ate quietly, and alone, in my car.  According to Malkovich, today was our easy day.  I can't wait for tomorrow.  This is one of those weeks where the hits just keep on coming.