Walnut polvorones

As good as my mood was on Friday, my sinus infection got much worse on the week end, to the point that I had to resort to some (albeit pretty mild) pain killers. And I spent a lot of time under a towel with my head over a steaming bowl of water and baking soda.

But I had a busy week end planned and no intention of skipping any of the social engagements I had been looking forward to. 

First of all last week the Salone Internazionale del Mobile was held in Milan, the yearly international furniture and design fair that attracts droves of people from all over the world. The main event takes place in the Fiera outside of the city, but for years now the event has started spreading into the city. For a week the town is alive with a buzz, even more so than during the fashion weeks. Every other building host exhibits, installments or events until late into the evening that are often open to the public. It is customary to walk around town and look at what is happening in the world of design, visiting everything from the showrooms of the best known brands to collective exhibits of young, up-and-coming designers and students with their alternative take on living spaces and objects. Music plays, crowds bustle in and out of courtyards following the banners that indicate spaces dedicated to the Fuori Salone (literally Outside of the Fair), which display bizarre creations and lights to attract people like moths.

Like last year, we headed to some of the more alternative areas with the children and spent a nice morning browsing through the beautiful, often thought provoking and sometimes downright ugly creations. The designers are usually willing to talk and explain their idea, the concept behind the object they are presenting and many are more than willing to have children observe and experience their products. The University of Gothenburg, in particular, sponsored a project called Play in Progress, where young designers created furniture remembering their take on it as children. The people at the stand were only too happy to photograph and let our children slide down the coffee table/slide, draw on their double-panel cabinet, hide behind the white curtain that concealed a world of hidden animals on the reverse side and play with the colored strings attached under the dining table (a fun way to entertain kids during long, boring grown up dinners).

Another perk of the week end was my mother in law’s visit. We were all very excited to spend some time together. This also meant F and I could go out to a last-minute dinner organized by friends (who obviously don’t have kids). My dear friend S commented I must have been pretty desperate to get out considering the pain I was in. True. That is when I popped the first pain killer. No sinus infection was going to keep me home with that kind of an opportunity. We had a surprisingly good Mexican meal (for Italian standards, where Mexican is usually synonym for Tex Mex only) and two huge pitchers of passion fruit frozen margaritas… and no worries Mom, I took the medication long before my first drink so it was pretty harmless… but I did warn my dining companions that if I started acting weird they should just take me home. ;o)

Before dinner F and I took a walk in the area, whcih was almost a second home to us in our wilder days… it felt strange yet so familiar to see throngs of people out so late and it made me feel alive and happy. And lemme tell you, you know you haven’t been out for a while when the night vendors are selling Chinese crap that you have never seen before.  

I made these cookies to bring to a get-together on Sunday with a bunch of friends with kids to wish my dear friend C good luck for her labor induction (she ended up giving birth to a healthy baby girl Tuesday at dawn).

I saw these a while back on a Scarletta Bakes, a blog I adore because of the great recipes, the photography and the fact that she always has me laughing out loud. I bookmarked them because I fell in love with them the minute I saw them. They are as delicious and crumbly and buttery as they look. They are quick and simple (my favorite two words, I know, but so true) and you can make them in two steps if you are busy. Also, you cannot but help getting a little excited when you coat them with your finger tips in all that powdered sugar, making you feel like an authentic Andalusian or Mexican abuela.

Chocolate chip & walnut oatmeal cookies and mini foodies

Considering I am not one for baking cookies, I am on quite a roll these days. Truth being, the not-so-satisfactory outcome of the last oatmeal cookies I made kept nagging me and is probably why I bought a can of rolled oats at the supermarket the other day.

My daughter is home with a yet unidentified fever this week. On Monday, when she started pestering me non-stop to watch cartoons (her daily TV allowance had been reached and the TV was promptly switched off) and I found my 20-month son standing on the living room table grinning at me, I realized I had to come up with an idea, and quick. I suggested baking cookies together. My daughter started jumping up and down chanting "cookies! cookies! cookies!" and I walked off to the kitchen, satisfied to have found a nice way to spend that endless hour stretching ahead of us before dinner time when the kids are especially cranky. I took out the ingredients we needed, helped my son pull the stool up to the counter and answered several questions about oats. Just when I thought we were getting to the fun part, my daughter politely asked if she could go play because she was tired and her arm was hurting from mixing. When I enthusiastically told her it was time to roll up our sleeves and start using our hands, she in so many words said she was annoiata, bored. I told her she was free to go, trying not show my disappointment. My son, as always, readily followed her out of the kitchen (this was probably a good thing since he had been reaching for the discarded egg shells and kept trying to stick his fingers in the bowl while the electric mixer was on).

So there I was, alone in the kitchen, flour everywhere, rolling the batter into balls, putting in and pulling out tray after tray of cookies. The kids were squeeling in the other room, wrestling on the floor and having the time of their lives. I still had dinner to cook, laundry to sort and endless toys to pick up between one batch and the next. Why did I get myself into this on a Monday evening? Story of my life!

 

I read all these blogs where moms write about their children helping them prepare each and every meal, about kids who actually ask their parents if they can make up a recipe and cook dinner for the family. Many children even have their own cooking blogs. 

Now, I consider my children pretty adventurous eaters. If you ask my five-year old what her favorite food is she will say sushi. When she was 18 months old she had a wasabi pea phase. When we eat fish we usually fight over the cheeks and we always share the oysters and tail of a roast chicken. My son will stuff his face with just about anything, from rabbit meat to olives. It may sound very "foodie" and cool to write this, but let's be honest, I don't for a second kid myself that my children can already tell the cheek and oyster of the animal they are eating apart from the rest of the meat. They are simply emulating and yeah, they probably have more of chance of becoming gluttons growing up with us than other kids. In our home the rule is to taste everything and to never say food is "yucky". I never cater to my children, unless it involves reducing the heat factor. But my ceviche-eating daughter will sometimes (and lately more often than not) make us sit hours at the table to eat something as unadventurous as string beans and tears easily flow when I present her with the most classic roasted carrots, which she used to gobble up in a second. My son the-vacum-cleaner will inhale a whole bowl of fancy pasta in an instant, chew happily and then discard perfectly round peas one after the other, that he stores in his cheeks just long enough to make me do a mental victory dance. Most of the time my daughter does not eat my baked goods, like I have mentioned many times before, and we have rarely gotten through a whole cooking session together.

So c'mon, how many of you out there really have children who cook gourmet food, eat every plant (after the ager of 1 or 2) that grows on the face of a planet and have blogs before they can read and write?

I made these cookies alone but everyone is eating them, even my daughter.

Adapted from the Joy of Cooking.