Goatgonzola and pureed broccoli tart, which rhymes with broken heart (as my daughter would say)

This post is more about motherhood than food, so if you have already started yawning, skip right ahead to the recipe, if you can even call it that, or see you next time.

For you moms and dads and the one or two who don't have kids (don't say I didn't warn you) still sticking around, here goes.

I always considered myself a pretty cool mom. Not as in 'I am a smokin' hot mama', more as in 'I try to be pretty relaxed when it comes to my kids'.

I am not one of those overly anxious, overprotective, overconcerned or overly nosey moms.

If my kid falls, I usually wait a second before I run over to scoop him/her up in my arms, I try to gauge how badly he/she may have gotten hurt before going all dramatic (except for that one time). When my kids play with other children, I am usually all for letting them settle their little disputes, unless I am aware that my child is greatly at fault or that my kid is being bullied. In the latter case I actually want to go over there and smack the bully in his/her snotty little face try to not interfere unless my child really cannot handle it and if I do I try to be neutral and objective. Ultimately, I think they need to learn to fend for themselves early on because it is a tough world out there and as long as they are in a safe environment under parental control, nothing that bad can happen to them. I am also not the kind of mom who needs to know every single detail about what is going on in their school, who said what, who did what and why.

So where the heck is this cool-as-a-cucumber mom I thought I was? Why am I sitting here at my desk getting all teary at the mere thought of tonight. Just the memory of that little pink, cat shaped toothbrush is enough to choke me up.

Pull yourself together lady! *Slap, slap*

I know, this is ridiculous. I am fully aware of it. If I hadn't been zonked out on drugs almost 4 years and 11 months ago due to unexpected complications, I would have actually seen them cutting the umbelical cord. My daughter is no longer a part of me, I know that, she has been an independent little girl for quite some time now. So why do I feel like someone is actually wrentching her away from me, from my insides? I thought I would be prepared, conscious that this is just the first of many such events in her journey to adulthood. How did all of you parents in the history of time do it? Granted, watching your children grow gives you a wonderful feeling of accomplishment, but it is physically painful.

Ok, here is the deal: she is going to her first sleep over, it is just a pajama party. Isn't 4 a little young to be going to pajama parties? It is just my luck that the girl having the party is the only kid in her class that does not live in a one-block radious from our apartment so I can stand in front of their building all night in case she calls. And I should be happy that my little girl is so excited about this party that she has been asking me every day for the past week when the party is. But I cannot deny that a little part of me hopes that she will be just like me when I was a little girl and will start crying and desperately want her Mommy as soon as it is time to go to bed and turn off the lights.

Truth is I know that will not be happening. I know my girl and I am pretty sure she will enjoy every minute of the pizza-movie party and sleep a deep, untroubled sleep. She will be really happy to see us in the morning when we pick her up but she will also probably put up a fight about leaving.

As much as it hurts to let my baby sleep far from me for the first time in 1,770 days since she was born I am pretty darn proud of her and how fearless she is and I know she will turn into an amazing, confident woman.

But I am making F. sleep fully-clothed and with shoes on just in case...

And now gimme some comfort food!

Ingredients
goat milk gorgonzola (or just any mix of blue cheese and goat cheese)
1 large head of broccoli
200ml cream
3 eggs
1/2 tbsp grated parmesan
pepper
salt
ready made puff pastry (or homemade if you are inclined)

Boil the broccoli florets until just soft in salted water and puree with a hand held mixer or a food processor. Set aside to cool. Line or grease your pie dish and cover with the rolled out puff pastry. Cover the bottom with a the pureed broccoli (keeping 1 ot 2 tbsp aside for later use). Scatter over some pieces of the goat gorgonzola. In a bowl whisk together the three eggs, the cream, some salt and pepper. You can add in some nutmeg if you like and the grated parmesan or you can sprinkle it over the top before cooking. Add in the rest of the broccoli puree and mix well. Pour the liquid over the layer of puree and cheese, place in a preheated oven at 220° C for approximately 20/25 minutes.