FWP 911

There's been a pair of bald eagles living just up the road from our mailbox for the last week or so.  I've been watching them as I sit waiting for the school bus, admiring how graceful and HUGE they are.  Today as the bus driver dropped Maggie off, she said she thought one of them might be hurt, that it was in the ditch off the road, so I said I'd go take a look.  I grabbed my camera, then the kids and I went up to check the situation out.  

Sure enough, the eagle was sitting in an odd position on the side of the road, partway down in the ditch.  I thought it would try to flap or hobble away when I stopped the car, but it just sat there, exhausted I think.  I wanted it to move so I could see what had happened, but no matter how close I got, it just sat there, watching me warily.  At one point I was within 2 1/2 feet, walked all around it and still could not tell what the injury was, although it must have been a wicked one to keep the bird there with all that examination.  

When I got home, I called the Fish, Wildlife and Parks guy I know in Miles City to report the hurt eagle.  He discussed with me what could happen to it, depending on the severity of the injury.  If the eagle could be transported to Miles City, a raptor specialist there would examine it and either send it on to Bozeman for rehabilitation or euthanize it.  The Bozeman facility happens to be where a friend of ours, Gordon Hardaway, is a vet, so we'd be able to keep close track of it!  Once the eagle is healthy, it would be returned back here and released.  I got the number of the local game warden, gave him the information I had and he was headed right out.  

Ranchers are typically not very sympathetic to eagles, simply because they prey on young livestock...it's truly awful to see the results of that...but I couldn't stand the thought of this one dying on the side of the road.

Here are some of the photos I took...

Still astonished that I could get that close!

Queen of the Two Furrow

Here's the story:
Once upon a time, there was a regular old ranch wife with ordinary brown hair, mom jeans and second-hand wardrobe, living in a trailer house on the Two Furrow Road of Cohagen, Montana.  She had the same hamburger in her deep freeze, the same Walmart tupperware in her cupboards and same black Muck boots as every other woman on the Two Furrow.  She was rich in friends (obscenely weathly, if you want to know the truth), blessed with family she was both born into and chose, and lacked for nothing at all.
There was, however, another who was utterly and ridiculously jealous of the ranch wife; so much so that it was humorous to all who beheld it.  One of the other residents of the land jokingly teased the ranch wife about being "The Queen of the Two Furrow" and she embraced the idea.  After all, isn't it better to laugh than to fume?

And so the Queen came to be.  She was destined to be queen, as all her friends knew, because she already had a tiara on the tea pot above her royal sink!  How handy was THAT?  She had a cattle sorting stick that made a dandy scepter, a Trailblazer carriage, and a silk scarf for her cloak.  Everyone knew where the Queen of the Two Furrow lived because of the pink flamingos at the royal mail box...no one else dared put something so tacky, so out of place along the road for all the world to see!  The Queen wore scarlet heels to make coffee, earrings to work cows and cheap sunglasses. (Because, it must be said here; the Queen was as absent minded as she was eccentric, so any shades that cost more than $10 were pointless.  And temporary.)

It's early in her queenhood, but a few things have already been established:

• All women in the land should own at least one pair of mom-jeans.  There's a Mom Jean day, you know, that's celebrated in Cohagen on April 1st!  
• Her motto, which shall be on a banner, forthwith, is: Peace, Love and Cows.  Learn it, LIVE IT!
• Pie is legal for breakfast.  Encouraged, in fact.
• Cauliflower is to be banished. *shudder*
• Royal wave is a "guns up", which the Queen shall offer to the public but they're not required to respond in kind.  :)
• Cowboy boots are cool...even with yoga pants, old cut off corduroy pants, skirts...everything.

And so the tale goes...

Check back with the Chronicles for royal events and news! 

Peace, Love and Cows

It never, ever gets old...

Watched this baby's birth this morning, and I realized that I could live to watch 60 more years of calving and every spring it would take my breath away with the miracle of it. The first picture is of the heifer's first look at her baby...

It was a frosty, misty morning, so the pictures are sort of hazy looking.  One of the most amazing things, to me, is that it was only about 20 minutes from the first breath to standing!

And that's what's been going on here in Cohagen for the last week or so...ordinary miracles, daily.

You know it's spring in Eastern Montana when...

...all the guys have "calving hair"curling out from under their caps, almost to "hippie" length.

...you have to look closely to be able to pick out your SUV from the other six in front of Ryan's grocery store, all with mud up to mid-side window.

...three products at the store are consistently sold out: Copenhagen, Spray'n'wash, and Folgers coffee.

...you need three layers of clothes for the day: snow storm weight, shirt sleeve weight and waterproofed wade-on-in weight.

...there's an eagle on each fence post for a mile and a half stretch of county road.

...the March Madness talk at the post office isn't about college basketball, it's in reference to calving and lambing.

...your dad hears the first meadowlark two days ahead of you, even though you get the information rather suspiciously after you tell him about YOUR first meadowlark. Every year, my friends...EVERY year...

...the local paper has more pages of bull sale ads than commissioner's meeting minutes.

...crockpot recipes are used as currency among neighbor women. ("I'll trade you my Creamy Beef Stroganoff recipe for your Honey-lime Chicken and the two-ingredient cookie recipe.")

...the UPS and Schwan delivery guys call from town to check on the road moisture/quality.

...you could start seed tomatoes and peppers in the mud in your porch.

...running with skunks becomes a fitness hazard.

*Feel free to add more in the sticky notes on the fridge door!

Under Construction...

Apologies for the big mess on the Chronicles!  Spring always makes me want to freshen everything up, including my poor, neglected blog...but true to character, I can't seem to change anything without first completely wrecking it.  

Hopefully the Chronicles will have a new look by Wednesday; one that doesn't make you want to bang your head on your computer keyboard when attempting to read it.  

(I'll be doing PLENTY of that in the meantime...)

A-maze-ing

This is a picture of the memorial labyrinth garden in Lewistown, Montana.  I'm not certain who actually designed and constructed it, but I know that it's maintained by volunteers who take sections to weed and nurture.  The grass pathway is about three feet wide and is bordered with flowerbeds of the same width; along the edge of the path one walks are memorial stones, with names of friends and family; one can walk slowly, read the names and have a quiet time of memory and prayer.  It's one of the most peaceful, happy public places I've ever encountered....the park can be filled with kids running and playing, people sprawled out on blankets, screaming from the nearby pool, and when I enter the labyrinth, it all sort of blurs out.

Do you see the statue? She holds secrets.
Here's a closer look:

When I stay in Lewistown, I try to go for a run in the mornings on the running path from the Yogo that goes to the park.  I'm sure there are other great places to run, but this is close to the B & B where I stay and it's more private to me than running the streets.  Later in the morning, there are a lot of people who use it, but dark-early in the morning, it's pretty quiet and gorgeously frosty-mistlike.  When I get to the labyrinth, I run through it carefully, sometimes twice, then head back...it's a fun place to turn around and the little curves sort of wake me up!  

One weekend a couple years ago, I was in Lewistown with Celestia for my birthday...a HUGE treat, because we went to live music at Lola's, stayed in The Calvert Hotel and had Mad Housewife wine before bed to toast the day.  The next morning I ran the path and the labyrinth, but on a whim, paused and peeked in the watering can the girl of the statue is holding.  

There was a letter!  

I didn't take it out, didn't look at the writing on the envelope, but have wondered, wondered ever since who might have left it there and what the story was.  (I later emailed a friend who lived in Lewistown and asked him to go down and check, to see if the letter had been picked up, but I don't think he ever did.)  Was it a break up letter?  An I-want-to-meet-later-xoxoxo-letter?  A letter of apology? A birthday wish?  I don't know.  I've always hoped it was a letter between lovers, something that both of them smile about when they think of it.  And I've always hoped that whoever it was intended for got it!  I've never looked in the watering can since then...it seems too private, even though it's in a public garden.  

I've been thinking of making a prairie labyrinth, here near my house.  Nothing complicated or fancy....certainly nothing as breathtaking as the one in Lewistown.  Perhaps just mowing the crested wheat grass in the pasture beyond my yard into a place I can pace and contemplate.  Here's a pattern that seems completely do-able:

Of course, by the time I'm finished, it will probably be less than calming and more along the lines of confusing, but still...

Would you come walk my labyrinth and have a glass of tea afterward under the pergola? I think I'll leave a watering can at the beginning point, just because it seems right.  You can tuck notes, recipes, flowers in it as surprises for the nosy soul that peeks!

Sacrifice

Maggie and I have been exploring the observance Lent the past couple days.  On her calendar, she discovered an intriguing notification of "Ash Wednesday" and she wanted to know what in the world that holiday was....which led to the discussion of Lent, which led to the discussion of sacrifice to self in remembrance of God's sacrifice of His Son for US.  All very deep stuff for an 8 year old, especially on the eve before Valentine's Day, which is full of revelry and chocolate! (Who was in charge of the calendar this year, I ask you?? Lent coinciding with a day full of chocolate, sweets, wine, flowers, cheese...my personal nemesis...and so forth??? Talk about poor timing and a test of true sacrifice!)

I need to tell you that I was not raised in a family that observed Lent, at all.  We were non-denominational rurally non-descript Protestant.  Lent had associations with Catholicism, which my Gramps maintained a sort of resentment for; he was not openly anti-Catholic, but there were comments here and there, enough to know that it was not to be accepted.  Now that I'm older, I realize that part of it probably had to do with his mother being born and raised in Ireland in a Protestant home.  At any rate, I didn't even know about Lent until I was in high school, staying with an older couple as a live-in evening companion to make sure they didn't fall and break a hip or something dreadful.

Alyce Ewy was Lutheran...VERY Lutheran...and after school, I took her to an Ash Wednesday service at her church. Just like Maggie, I couldn't figure out what in the world this could be about...and it was even more mysterious being held at night and there were candles!  Why ashes? Why the middle of the week church service? Why was everyone so solemn and quiet?

When we returned home, I began to ask questions...which delighted Alyce and she was happy to explain the significance of Lent and how it preceded the Easter celebration. (More on that in a bit...)  So many things made sense, then, as to why my Catholic high school friends were so grouchy for 40 days, many of them having given up Copenhagen or chocolate as an ultimate sacrifice to self!  And it led to a deeper appreciation for the Easter message, in MY heart.

Last night, Maggie said that she was giving up her Horsie stuffed animal for Lent...a huge sacrifice, since she's slept with that thing for 4 years...and she said, "Do you think God will be happy that I did?"  Oh, baby...I snuggled in with her and told her that God was happy with her being Maggie.  The sacrifice of something special for 40 days is for US to understand, in just a tiny way, what God sacrificed for US...His Son!  Then, she wanted to know what I was giving up for Lent.
Coffee?
The computer?
Molly?
Music?
It was very revealing for her to toss out things that she thought were essential and important to me.
I was not as brave as she, and chose to give up peanut butter, which was a horrifyingly extreme choice in her estimation!  How does one live for 40 days without peanut butter?  (I'm still wondering that, myself, actually...)

I don't want to preach a sermon, here, but the idea of denying to self in our world...even just peanut butter...is a little extreme and harsh.  I'm not on a diet, I'm not trying to be coolly Paleo, I'm not looking to torture my family with this. (We won't be keeping Nutter Butters around, though.)  Every time I make the choice not to eat peanut butter, it will make me conscious of how much more God gave up for me....I'll focus on Him, rather than my own desire at that moment.  And not in a martyr-ish way...it's simple, personally significant, and redirects my heart in a private way...between God and I. (Except I wrote a blog post about it, so now it's not so private...drat.)

I love that Maggie is observing Lent, too....because she WANTS to, not because she's pressured to.  It was her decision, her heart's urging!  What a beautiful time of reflection for both of us, and such an open door to discuss and share our beliefs in a way that is not driven by popular culture!

So...
Happy Valentine's Day, my friends!  At my house, the celebration of love is even deeper this year.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoox

Gardenitis

(I make the spell-check on my computer NUTS because I add words like this to the dictionary against its strenuous insistence that it's wrong, wrong, wrong!)

Gardenitis is an affliction that strikes many people this time of year.  It's an obsessive, compulsive desire to plant and till, and it occurs in many variations.  To find out if you are the victim of this condition, the Farmer's Wife offers this brief, comprehensive quiz.

1. When a seed catalog arrives in your mail, you:
     a. Put it in the "look at later" pile of publications.
     b. Flip through it, turning down pages and circling interesting varietals.
     c. Get out a highlighter. After a completely thorough research on zones and germination, fill out the order
          form and send it off the next day.
     d. Wait until everyone is in bed, then call the seed company with your credit card number and whisper
          "I'll take two of each, thank you..."

2.  The pansies and primroses appear in the stores, with promises of spring color!  You:
     a. Think to yourself, "Who in the WORLD would buy those in February in Montana?"  and walk away.
     b. Buy one little four-pack, justifying it by putting them in a "container" for 6 more weeks.
     c. Take a flat home, create a little niche in your window for them and develop a relationship until the frost
         goes out.
     d. Put the laundry soap and milk back so there's more room in the cart for plants, take them home and
         create a little greenhouse in a south bed with a plug in heater and old shower curtains.  Voila! Spring
         color!

3.  There are weddings near Valentine's Day, of course...it's romantic and all.  While in attendance, you:
     a. Notice that the bride did an exceptional job of coordinating the flower arrangements with her wedding
         party's attire.
     b. Think to yourself, "Ooohhhh...pink roses and delphinium...I'll have to try that in the garden this year."
     c.  Start a discussion with the bride's aunt about gardening and make a plan to have coffee and do a
          greenhouse tour next week.
     d. Pretend to be fixing an arrangement that is obviously off center, then, when no one is looking, pinch a
          cutting of that gorgeous ivy to root when you get home. (Bonus points if you put the clipping in your
          water glass at the reception, pretending you have some sort of exotic cocktail.)


I told you the quiz was brief!

If you had mostly a.'s:  How are your silk plants doing?  I'm sure you're a very nice person, but gardening is not your thing, really.  Try 1-800-FTD-2DAY....

If you had mostly b.'s: You walk a slippery slope in the world of gardening.  You're cautiously optimistic, but I suspect that you're one big landscape success away from Gardenitis.  Beware the yarrow!

If you had mostly c.'s: You're definitely afflicted with the dread Gardenitis. Find more of your own kind (they'll be easy to spot in the supermarket because they'll be mumbling about anemic tomatoes) and share seeds and compost.  Carpe daisy!

If you had mostly d.'s: I'll try to put this gently...you're nuts, dear.  There's a place for lost souls like you and it's called Butchart Botanical Gardens. I'll meet you at the south entrance on Friday...you'll know it's me because I'll be wearing the straw hat with "flowers" (swiped cuttings to start).

Seesters

This is something that has been bothering me for a long time, now...

What is Maggie going to do without a sister?!?

Those who grew up without a sister don't understand why this is distressing to me.  If you have a brother, good enough, right?  (I'm equally distressed that Angus doesn't have a brother, but that's another post...) What's so essential about having a sister, anyway?

Sisters are the biggest blessings and biggest pains in your butt that God can give a girl; they reflect you back to yourself like a big inside-outside mirror of reality, they're an annoying little conscience, a memory keeper, a fashion critic, a partner in crime.

Sisters remember things you said twenty years ago, who you had a crush on when you were five, what color your boots were in third grade (probably because they were handed down, one way or another), nicknames, lyrics to Girl Scout songs, and things that only the two of you find funny...

She's who you call when you can't remember the name of the cookies that Aunt Nancy used to make, that we all loved and no one has the recipe for.

She's the one who knows where you hid your best friends' notes.

She can make you madder than anyone in the world, because she was somehow born with the "THIS will make her CRAZY" button-pushing instinct.

She can have you laughing so hard you cry, when she starts telling about slumber parties at Brenda Thomas's house where we drank Mountain Dew for eight hours, danced to Electric Avenue and freaked out over a cat under the tent floor.

She also knows things that you can't believe she knows...you can't believe you TOLD her!...but you had to tell someone and even though you KNOW she'll hold it as blackmail material for life (despite crossing her heart and hoping to die), she gets the deep, dark secrets.

Sisters are snoopy, manipulative and annoyingly good at the things you're not good at.  Later in life, you'll realize that these are good attributes.  She'll have found out about Aunt Bert's broken foot, be able to work Mom around to seeing it our way and have the answers for life events that completely floor you.

One cool thing about having a sister is that you know HOW to be a sister, because sometimes you get other sisters on your way through life.  That's a lot of sisterhood, huh?  But it's true!

Step-sisters are bonus sisters that God gave us for doing a good job on each other, I think.  He watched us bond, fight, share, fight, call, fight, cry, fight, birth, fight, and said, "It is good.  They can handle more sisters!"; and then there were four. Amazingly enough, we all clicked together like LEGOs from different boxes and I can't think of what life would be like without them, either!

I've picked up a couple sisters along the way, too.  One of my friends didn't have a sister and I couldn't STAND it!  She could not be allowed to go through life without knowing the sister-love! Horrors!  She's loaned me clothes, heard deep dark secrets, got bossed, has seen bad hair and good jeans, commiserated over family drama...
We haven't had a good fight, yet, but I'm sure it'll happen and we'll love each other through it.

I can't imagine life without my sister and sisters!  How would I know what shoes to wear with the dress for the wedding?  Who would be my Ask-A-Nurse?  Who would laugh with me over my kids acting exactly like I did at that age?  For that matter, who would remember what I was like when I was eight?

I hope Maggie finds a sister along the way. I feel so guilty not having one for her!  What kind of mother raises a child with no sister?!?! (I'm sure there will be notes on the fridge door for THAT...)

Hurt so good...

After watching "Biggest Loser" on Monday, my friend...we'll just call her "Jillian"...decided it was time to shake things up a bit at our twice-a-week yoga/counseling sessions.  She wrote (and this is TRUE, not exaggerated in any way!) "When we get done with a couple months of this, we'll have the hottest asses in Cohagen!"  Now, I don't know if any of you have BEEN to Cohagen in the last few years, but our residents aren't exactly known for enviable derrieres, if you know what I'm saying...myself included.  In my mind, it wouldn't take long to achieve THAT goal, so heck, yeah!  I'm in!  

My first mistake was in returning the Jillian Michaels (no relation to OUR "Jillian") book to our newly self-appointed personal trainer last week.  This book has a carefully outlined plan to kill you.  None of that "make you stronger" businss...it's going to kill you.  You'll look great, no doubt about it, but you won't have the will to live after a week or so.

Here's advice to live by:

NEVER give a woman with a hot ass plan the Jillian Michaels book and 24 hours to highlight it and make sticky notes! 

We get to the yoga place and "Jillian" shows up with a balance ball, two five pound weights, a pile of sticky notes, and a plan.  She brought a Namaste video, too, which is kinder and gentler than Rodney Yee's power yoga, but still challenging in that we're not used to it and have to pay attention to the poses.  It's difficult to get all your personal issues worked out when you have to attend to the actual yoga! I mean...part of being balanced is being able to talk about all the junk that's been bothering you while you sweat; we don't meditate at our yoga studio, we TALK.  And sometimes yell at Rodney Yee, but he's cool with it.

The Namaste was good....the plan was to do the warm-up, two main sessions, then the circuit that "Jillian" had planned, then the cool down portion of the video.  

Seemed reasonable and we were ready to get to work on building better backsides!  

Here's what she laid out for the circuit....again, I'm NOT exaggerating, and if you need to take an ibuprofen before reading it, I wouldn't blame you a bit...

Sit ups on the ball (just keep going until the others are done with their stations) 

20 lunges on each leg.

50 (Dear Lord...5-0!!!) fast squats

Then, 

Planks (just hold 'em until the others are done with their stations)

Balance ball/leg lift things,  12 on each leg

Dead lifts with the weights (20 or more)

THEN, 

Crunches (just keep going until the others are done with their stations)

Plank-knee-to-chest moves (just keep going...you know the drill)

Cross over lunges (12 on each leg)

THEN!!!

Wall resistance hold for 5 minutes which doesn't sound like a long time, but after all the rest of the circuit, it was for stinkin' ever.

Then we got to do the cool down portion of the Namaste video which I don't even remember, because my whole body was shaking. 

It was one of those, "I love and hate you 'Jillian'; I'd hug you if I could lift my arms and kick your butt if I could move my leg!" sorts of things.  You know...it feels so bad it feels good?  And my run this morning was an act of stubbornness and courage.  It was better than trying sit down in a chair and get back up out of it, that's for sure!

And we get to do it again on Thursday!

I think by May, we'll definitely have the hottest asses in Cohagen. (Population, 32)

Ricotta Gnudi with Pomodaro Sauce: Recipe 4

I really should have prefaced this ENTIRE series with:
You remember, right, that I'M NOT THE PIONEER WOMAN, REE DRUMMOND?!?
Now that you know that I know that you know, there will be a lot less pressure with the photographs.
That's all.

Something else we need to clear up right away before you put in the time reading this post...
I have no idea how to pronounce "gnudi".  I say it with the "g" sound, because if I don't, it sounds a little...risque, if you know what I mean.  If my kids ask, it's "g-nood-ee" or as I told them last night, cheese dumplins with red sauce.

And that's basically all they are!

Here's the Bon Appetit photo, so you know what they SHOULD look like:

Aahhh, yes....charming and rustically elegant.  

Makes you want to turn on some Boccelli and pour a glass of Cabernet, doesn't it?

That's what I wanted to do, when I started the recipe!

I also reminded myself that if it seemed wrong, measure or ingredient-wise, to make my own judgement call.

In the magazine, they give you the gnudi recipe first, but after looking through the whole thing, I realized it would be more logical and calm to make the sauce first and have it simmering, waiting for those dear little dumplins to arrive, so that's how you're going to get the recipe.

Ingredients

• 1 28-ounce can whole peeled tomatoes
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• 2 garlic cloves, chopped
• 1/4 teaspoon sugar
• Kosher salt

Preparation

• Pulse tomatoes with juices in a blender to form a coarse purée. Heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring often, until beginning to brown, about 2 minutes. Add tomato purée and sugar and season with salt. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer gently until sauce is slightly thickened, 10-15 minutes. DO AHEAD: Sauce can be made 3 days ahead. Cover and chill, or freeze for up to 3 months.

Read More http://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/2013/02/quick-pomodoro-sauce#ixzz2JaXqWg4h

It smells cozy, it looks impossibly Italian....

you'll want to pour another glass of wine before you continue, in celebration of your brilliant sauciness and also to fortify you for the dumplin' process. 

(I was generous with the salt and it was a good thing; otherwise, the pomodoro is sorta...flat.  Also, and this is my own judgement call, it would have been a little richer with a glug of red wine, but I was trying to follow the spirit of the recipe.)

Here's the recipe for the ricotta gnudi:

Ingredients

• 16 ounces ricotta (about 2 cups)
• 1 large egg, beaten to blend
• 1 large egg yolk, beaten to blend
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 cup finely grated Parmesan or Grana Padano plus more
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt plus more
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour plus more
• 3 cups Quick Pomodoro Sauce (click for recipe)
• 
  

Preparation

• 
  Mix ricotta, egg, egg yolk, pepper, 1/2 cup Parmesan, and 1/2 teaspoons salt in a large bowl until well combined. Add 1/2 cup flour; stir just until combined and mixture forms a ball (mixture will be soft and moist with some bits of ricotta remaining; add more flour by the tablespoonful if it feels wet).  
• Dust a rimmed baking sheet generously with flour. Using 2 large soup spoons, shape heaping tablespoonfuls of dough into football shapes; place on baking sheet and dust with more flour (you should have 30).
• Cook gnudi in a large pot of boiling salted water, stirring occasionally, until cooked through and tender, 5-6 minutes (gnudi will quickly float to surface; continue cooking or gnudi will be gummy in the center).
• Using a slotted spoon, divide gnudi among bowls. Top with Quick Pomodoro Sauce and more Parmesan.

Read More http://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/2013/02/ricotta-gnudi-with-pomodoro-sauce#ixzz2JaZ9fGHh

I used the Parmesan cheese and ended up adding quite a lot more flour.  I think they should say, "The dough will be the approximate consistency of chocolate chip cookie dough, before you add the chocolate chips.", but I'm guessing that would be (and may have been) edited out.  Pity.  

Also...here's a little something you should know...it's IMPOSSIBLE to make football shapes of gnudi dough with two tablespoons.  Spare yourself the frustration and just plop the portions on the cookie sheet; you can go back and roll them between your palms as you drop them in the boiling water.  

These are the little dumplin's after having been mixed, plopped and rolled.  They're waiting their turn in the hot bath!

They look happy, don't you think?

They made ME happy, because I could smell warm cheese, noodles and brilliant Italian red gravy...mmm!

I served them as they cooked, so everyone could have fresh love in a bowl!

The Farmer gamely ate his bowl, then dug around for the leftover cinna-ribs in the refrigerator. Can you believe it?

Maggie ate ONE and requested the leftover homemade chicken noodle soup from lunch. Ouch!

Angus...dear boy...could tell this was not turning out the way I had pictured it, so HE tried it...

...ate it all gone and asked if I'd please put some in his lunch tomorrow because he liked it that much!

(Turns out, he was being a good sport, too.  The kid has a future in politics, I'm afraid...)

I loved the gnudi and the sauce.  And I'm not just saying that!  

It was warm, cheesy, peppery and soft, covered with sauce that is deceptively simple but tastes very authentic.  I sent some to my friend, Joni, and we'll see what her verdict is....

Jenga Ribs: Recipe 2

I decided to do the ribs for our evening meal so the kids could join us (Maggie's a first-rate carnivore), and afternoons are better for slow, easy cooking in the oven.  I could imagine them coming in the door after school and smelling the ribs...mmmm!

It was a good plan.
Sadly, it was a faulty recipe...for our household.

Here's the recipe...see what you think:

Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1 tablespoon (packed) light brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon paprika
• 2 teaspoons chili powder
• 2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
• 2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 2 teaspoons onion powder
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon ground coriander
• 2 racks St. Louis-style pork spareribs (4-4 1/2 pounds total)
• Prepared barbecue sauce

Preparation

• Whisk garlic powder, salt, brown sugar, paprika, chili powder, pepper, cumin, onion powder, cinnamon, and coriander in a small bowl to blend. DO AHEAD: Spice blend can be made 1 month ahead. Store airtight at room temperature.
• Preheat oven to 300°. Rub ribs all over with spice blend and wrap each rack individually in foil, crimping seams to seal tightly. Place both racks on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake ribs until fork-tender, about 3 hours. DO AHEAD: Ribs can be made 2 days ahead. Open foil packets and let ribs cool completely. Rewrap tightly and refrigerate on same baking sheet.
• Preheat oven to 425°. Cut racks between bones into individual ribs. Divide ribs between 2 foil-lined rimmed baking sheets and bake until heated through and golden brown, 15-20 minutes.
• Layer ribs on plates in alternating directions, 3 ribs per layer. Serve ribs, passing barbecue sauce alongside

Read More http://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/2013/02/jenga-ribs#ixzz2JTIJXIzh

The only modification I made was to use beef short ribs instead of pork.

Did you see that?

"The only modification I made..."

Several friends are wondering if I changed medication or something, because I ALWAYS modify recipes!

I prefer to think of it as "enhancing"...

In this case...this ONE CASE!!!...I should have followed my instincts and changed what I thought was an iffy amount of cinnamon in the rub.  

I could see a hint of cinnamon, perhaps a dash, just to make you think, "What IS that flavor...I can't quite place it...?"  It would drive my friend Traci nuts, because it would be familiar, yet out of place.  (I like to mess with her that way.  She's an incredible cook and usually identifies every little subtle ingredient in a recipe when she tastes it. It's SO FUN to stump her!)  

I'm hoping the recipe had a typo...a teaspoon measurement when there should have been a 1/2 teaspoon...because the rest of it was great! I felt like I was concocting some sort of secret dry potion, there were so many various seasonings in the works.  And the ribs looked very sexy after their rub down, don't you think?

I wrapped them each individually, like the recipe said, again ignoring instincts that said, "Grill them a little first, idiot! Smoke 'em up for flavor, THEN bake 'em!" but I was determined to FOLLOW THE RECIPE!  (Have I pointed out that I didn't deviate from the instructions at all??  This is huge, folks...and costly, as it turns out.)

Weather like this helped me make the decision to ignore instincts and blindly follow Bon Appetit's instruction:

We'll try it their way, just this once...

The little foil packets were tucked into a 275 degree oven around noon, all cozy and spicy, and left to tenderize and tantalize.
About an hour in, I could tell something was dreadfully wrong...it smelled like a garam masala meat from India roasting!  If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend I was in a marketplace, waiting for a street vendor to dish me up some lamb and rice.
YIKES!
That was NOT the flavor I was hoping for!
But it's the one we got.

I didn't take pictures of the finished product, all cooked up and ready to serve, because it was VERY unappetizing...even in color.  Sort of a dark brownish-grey.  I KNOW.  Ick!  The meat was very tender, but we couldn't taste it at all, for the intense cinnamon-ness.  Even Maggie, who loves most any meat set before her, pushed it aside and ate more oven fried potatoes and coleslaw.  It was unsalvageable, even with barbeque sauce.

I don't think it's a bad recipe...I just think it's unbalanced the way it is published!
As for me and my experiment in closely following directions in a recipe and respecting its boundaries?
I don't think I'm a bad cook....I just think I'm a little unbalanced the way I was created.
And the balance is in the favor of good cooking instincts.  I'll know better and trust that, next time!

Chorizo and White Bean Stew: Recipe 1

The stew was amazing!  The Farmer ate THREE bowls, with sourdough artisan bread.  We both agreed that it could use a little more zing for us, but the flavors were warm, subtle and comforting, not bland.  It's truly a comfort soup!  Who would've thought?

I had thyme, but no fresh spinach, so I had to make do with some frozen spinach...not the best, but it worked.  (I know.  Who has thyme, but no spinach?  The same person with two bottles of clam juice in her pantry, that's who...)

Angus looks a lot more enthusiastic in this picture than he actually was.  In fact, he was highly suspicious. And the sourdough bread had to be doctored with butter and honey before it was deemed edible.

Here's the recipe!

Ingredients

• 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided, plus more for drizzling
• 1 pound fresh Mexican chorizo or Italian sausage links
• 1 large onion, thinly sliced
• 4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• 1 sprig thyme
• 2 15-ounce cans cannellini (white kidney) beans, rinsed
• 2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
• Kosher salt, freshly ground pepper
• 5 ounces baby spinach (about 10 cups)
• Smoked paprika (optional)

• Ingredient info

  Smoked paprika can be found at most supermarkets.

Preparation

• Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add sausage and cook, turning occasionally, until browned and cooked through, 15-20 minutes. Transfer sausage to a plate.
• Reduce heat to medium. Heat remaining 1 tablespoon oil in same skillet. Add onion, garlic, and thyme sprig. Cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is softened, 5-8 minutes. Add beans and broth and cook, crushing a few beans with the back of a spoon to thicken sauce, until slightly thickened, 8-10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Add spinach by handfuls and cook just until wilted, about 2 minutes.
• Slice chorizo and fold into stew; add water to thin, if desired. Divide stew among bowls; drizzle with oil and sprinkle with paprika, if desired.

• Nutritional information

  4 servings, 1 serving contains:
  Calories (kcal) 570
  Fat (g) 33
  Saturated Fat (g) 9
  Cholesterol (mg) 65
  Carbohydrates (g) 41
  Dietary Fiber (g) 11
  Total Sugars (g) 4
  Protein (g) 29
  Sodium (mg) 1640

Read More http://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/quick-recipes/2013/02/chorizo-and-white-bean-stew#ixzz2JIdptZ9p

Missoula Children's Theater 2013

The kids were involved in the Missoula Children's Theater again this year, and the play was "The Tortoise vs The Hare".  As usual, it was very cute and all the kids did a great job.  They practice EVERY NIGHT for a week, from 3:50-8:15, stopping only for a 20 minute supper break...it's brutal! Tougher for country kids because they have a drive home, too.

Here are some photos of the play.  I didn't reset my camera for low light, darn it, so they're not the greatest!

Both Angus and Maggie were bunnies and the costumes were adorable....

Angus's pants were too big, so when he hopped, they threatened to fall down and expose his Captain Marvelous underpants; this was very concerning to him, and he took itty-bitty hops and spent much time readjusting wardrobe.  

The reptile costumes were fascinating...soft and shiny!  The tortoise was perfectly cast...he wasn't going to be rushed in any way, and the hare blew me away because I've known that girl since she was a baby and she's NOT the bad walking, punk talking character she played so well on stage!

Bonnie Bunny had a part that required her to sing a solo, and she performed it wonderfully!  We were so proud of her for being brave and learning the lines and songs.

We were proud of this bunny, too!

Okay, this is terrible, but every time I looked at this sign I saw "Welcome to Wet Sandy Bottoms"...

If you come to visit us, we'll be happy to pull out the video highlights for you!

(THAT oughta take care of the drop-by visitors....)

Pictures for Grandparents without Face Book!

Very serious about pirates...

Maggie was sick and Molly was being uncharacteristically sympathetic to her!

Very serious about cowboys...

Ice fishing with PopPops in the reservoir with about 3 feet of water!

Maggie LOVED it and was very competitive about catching fish!  Angus thought we should put them back so they didn't die.  He didn't last too long with the project and spent most of his time in the warm pickup, planning cookies and cocoa for the POST-fishing party with Grandma.

Perfect little trout!  We caught seven and then pulled out, because the sun went down and we got COLD!

Disgraceful!

There's no way I'll make up for lost blogging time, so I'll just start here and work backward.  Yes, I'm supposed to be doing 30 more important things, but if I don't take 15 minutes this morning to catch you all up, it'll never happen!  Besides, I just poured a big, ugly cup of coffee with half and half, and THAT shouldn't be wasted while I fold clothes.

So, you all know I get Bon Appetit magazine, right?  My friend Sara subscribes to it for me and every month I bless her generous, foodie heart as I wear the pages out, turning them down on the corners where I want to try a recipe or found a significant wine note.  

This month was a doozy!

Check out the cover:

Seriously...it starts out with PASTA, then the creamiest chocolate mousse, followed by gourmet nachos and a nod to one skillet dinners.

And inside, it's even BETTER!

So, I got the idea that I would profile this month's Bon Appetit magazine this week in my menu for the family.

(Like they care...)

That's right.

I do a weekly menu.

It seems a bit too....organized and well-thought out for a flake like me, huh?

Here's the thing, though; because I'm easily distracted, I often find myself in a panic at 11:20 a.m. wondering what in the world I'm going to feed the guys at noon and how fast bologna might thaw in the microwave! (Not the preferred method of thawing lunchmeat, by the way...)

A weekly menu saves my life.

And my friends and family's life, too.

(You'll note that Sundays are the Farmer's day to cook.  That's because I'm watching football.)

Please don't judge the nutritional balance or lack thereof...it's just a kick off for the main dishes.  I can "accessorize" with sides, later.  

I decided to try one recipe a day, beginning with Chorizo and White Bean Stew, today.  

I bought the artisan bread, and we'll probably have a salad on the side (that the Farmer will slice a steak over), but other than that, it'll be the B. A. recipe.

I'll take a picture and let you know how it turns out!

Next week, Food and Wine profiled!