Polpo con patate in umido (octopus and potato stew)



This is the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde... went a famous song in the early Eighties.

 

That is my story these days, the story of my blond-haired, blue-eyed baby who not-so-occasionally morphs into a little monster with tentacles, a spinning head and flying spittle.

 

I get that Terrible Twos sounds much more catching than Terrible Fours, but for me it has always been about the fours. And from what I hear and see around, it is not just me. So to hell with the Terrible Twos, let's get serious and discuss the Frightful Fours.

My daughter had a pretty bad case of them, much worse than my son's, but she had the partial excuse of a baby brother invading her territory at the time.

He, on the other hand, may be a little easier to handle (and I have a feeling this is partly because he is a boy, a more simple gender to deal with in general) but he has no such excuse.

 

Lately the constant "No"s and whining and defiant attitude have been eroding my soul like a slow yet steady trickle of water. I know this phase will pass, I know he is taking his first steps in becoming independent, I know deep, deep down inside he is still my sweet little boy. But let me tell you, he can be a real pain in the a** on the outside these days.

Unfortunately, there is not much you can do except breathe in and breathe out (after you have tried everything from ignoring to reasoning to time outs - because everything just makes it worse) until it passes.

 

So when it takes me 20 minutes to get his shoes on at pre-school because this involves ten minutes of cajoling on my part and crying and screaming on his just to get to him to his locker (the last time it was about me daring to kiss him on his ear when he ran into my arms minutes before), five minutes of him flinging said shoes off every time I get them on his kicking feet and another five of him opening and closing the velcro straps repeatedly because I did it wrong and I am mean... I breathe in and I breathe out.

When he constantly and very publicly refuses to sit near me anywhere, whether on a bus, a plane or in a restaurant, because he wants Daddy and only Daddy - even when it is logistically impossible... I breathe in and I breathe out.

 

Indian lentil and acorn squash curry (or soup)

 

If you have never heard of a What's App group chat then you also probably don't know how addictive it can get. The other day I decided to create one for my running group: the core group consists in myself, another girl and a guy, but we have had quite a few new entries lately so organizing our outings has become more engaging than before. We have been spending so much time texting and messaging on What's App individually to figure out who is coming and where to meet up that I thought it would be practical to create a What's App group chat. One of us writes, who wants to run answers and who doesn't abstains. Simple. Or so I thought.

 

 

 

 

 

Let's just say the group chat took on a life of its own.
 

Yesterday, the only guy of the group came out of an evening class to find 26 messages on his phone.

Quickly he checked his What's App account, wondering what had happened since he had confirmed his presence.

When he opened the messages to read them he was submerged by comments along the lines of*:

"It's supposed to be really cold tomorrow morning; I really need to get some new pants. The other day I stopped for a coffee after running and the guy who always serves me asked me why I was in my pjs"
 

"I am wearing running tights and a zip top; d'you think I should wear a tshirt under that or just a bra?"
 

"I'm not coming. I need some sleep. I know, I know, I am a lazy bum. I suck"
 

"You don't suck, you ran a marathon girl!"
 

"Yeah but you are incredibly consistent, unlike me"
 

"I know, isn't she? She never misses a day!"

"Yeah, but who's the one who managed to lose 10lbs???"

 

 

The poor guy didn't know what he was getting himself into when he accepted the invitation to our group chat, but he truly is a good sport and plays along. He is our guardian angel, always running back and forth to check on us in the pre-dawn darkness. 

  

Yup, it is dark now when we run. Fall is in the nippy air, dry leaves and those chestnut burrs I already mentioned recently crunch under our sneakers as we jog.
 

Autumn has come, with its lovely array of seasonal fruits and vegetables.
 

 

 

 

 

Pumpkin is definitely a favorite of mine and I like it prepared in pretty much any manner. My daughter, however, has recently developed a dislike for it because she finds the sweetness overpowering, so I have been looking for ways to use it without its flavor being too overbearing because pumpkins and squash are so filled with antioxidants and vitamins.

 

This vegetarian (or actually vegan) curry is ideal: it is packed with flavor yet delicate, the pumpkin adding creamy texture, the perfect vehicle to absorb all the spices and heat. My daughter didn't even notice the pumpkin until, during her second helping,
 I admitted it was actually one of the main ingredients. She made a disgusted faced, then shrugged and went on eating.

  

The curry paste I used as a base is a loose adaptation of a Jamie Oliver korma paste recipe.

 

 

 

 

If, on the other hand, you like pumpkin as much as I do and want its flavor to really shine through, here are some links to other favorite recipes.

 

 

Libyan Tershi pumpkin dip

 

 

 

 

Pumpkin gnocchi

 

 

Pasta with roasted butternut squash, kelemata olives and feta cheese

 

 

 

Oriental wisdom soup

 

 

 

 Pumpkin cinnamon rolls

 

 

 

 

Streusel pumpkin muffins with maple cream cheese filling

 

 

 

 

 

*This in not an exact transcript, forgive the poetic licence. I tried to catch the essence of endless texts into a few sentences. A few, however, are pretty accurate.

Blueberry muffin bread with cream cheese filling and fig muffins

 

 

My birthday came and went last week. I would have added quietly, but have you noticed how birthdays are on steroids since the advent of the book of faces? But hey, don't misundertstand me. I am grateful for each and every birthday wish I received. Especially the kind words from that girl I think I knew in nursery school; and from that friend of a friend of a friend that I have never met but that I know goes running three times a week, 8km each time, and whose heart - according to her status - is broken; she would willingly turn back time if only she could, if only he would let her.

But back to more important things. Me.
So, I am a year older and if truth be told, I feel better about myself and my life now than I did in my early twenties. Sure, this feeling of self assuredness comes with some usually-although-not-always well concealed grey hair, a wrinkle or two (thank goodness I can still use single digits for those) and a few extra pounds, but I am not complaining.

 

 

A birthday celebration these days no longer involves two hundred of my very best friends and drunken dancing.

It means meeting up for a quick, unplanned lunch with F and enjoying the guilty pleasure of sushi sans kids, a small beer during my lunch break, almost an hour of uninterrupted talk and holding hands every now and then without squealing and gagging sounds as accompaniment.

 

 

 

 

It means picking up my daughter, who may or may not have forgotten it was my birthday until way after she sulked because I did not agree to invite half of the class over for a playdate. But it doesn't matter, because when she finally did remember, I got a beautiful drawing that  I had watched her and her friends working on hidden behind a secretive wall of backpacks in the school square the day before.

 

 

 

 

It means a simple week night dinner at home, the usual racous, messy affair but the grand finale of a birthday cake complete with candles and presents.

This year, it was exactly what I wanted and all that I needed: an impromptu daytime date with my husband and a simple dinner at home with my family. A quiet, unnoticed affair... well, if it wasn't for FB, that is.

 

 

 

 

Since I didn't bake a cake for my birthday like I have in past years, the only baking that went on over the week end was for this blueberry muffin bread and simple muffins with a fresh fig topping. 

 

 

 

  

I first was inspired to make the blueberry bread when I saw a pin on Pinterest. However, when I was getting ready to make it I realized the recipe actually did not include cream cheese, although I thought it did for some reason when I pinned it. So I started looking up recipes on the Internet and to my surprise found what I was looking for on Anecdotes and Apple Cores, a blog I have been following for quite a few years now. I made some very minor adjustments and also ended up making an extra batch of the batter minus the cream cheese filling for the fig muffins*.

 

Chewy cinnamon oatmeal cookies and musings

 

We have been blessed by a beautiful September. The sun has been shining almost every day and the kids have been spending the warm afternoons in the square by their school with their friends. They play ball and Chinese jump rope, they climb up the school fence and draw on the pavement with colored chalk. In the mornings and evenings, however, the air is undeniably chillier and on my way to work I have started noticing fallen leaves and open chestnut burrs on the bike lane.

 

Fall is in the air and as I start pulling out our duvets from their summer hiding places and sorting through the kids' winter clothers, I can't help but feel drawn towards the kitchen. I am craving all things autumn: warm oatmeal, cinnamon, apple pies and pumpkin soup.

 

Over the week end I baked my first batch of cookies in a while, and I have been bringing them to my kids as a snack everyday after school.

 

As I was mixing the ingredients I thought about some things I had heard over the week. Stories that once again made reminded me that there are extraordinary women and men everywhere, not just on the cover stories of magazines.

 

 

Perhaps I should rephrase that. There are ordinary people everywhere doing extraordinary things. Mothers and fathers who work, who lead hectic lives, yet still manage to make a difference; people who are quietly fighting demons, yet do their thing better and with more passion and energy than I have most of the time.

 

Like my friend who has two kids of her own and a job and will be welcoming a child from the highly contaminated areas around Chernobyl into her home for five weeks in October. These yearly visits help lower the radioactive levels in the childrens' bodies and the healthy and uncontaminated food they eat helps further boost their immune systems. The families participating in this project are lending a helping hand whilst offering their own children a unique opportunity of intercultural exchange.

 

 

 

Or the two families in my child's class who recently adopted siblings at an age when the large majority of couples would not take in a child, let alone two or three.

 

Or this other woman I know (but apparently less than I thought I did) who has a job, a husband who travels and a gaggle of noisy, cute children. I always marvel at her appearance, not because she is dressed up to the nines or perfectly coiffed and accessorized, but because she always smiles and is surrounded by a positive aura. If she feels tired or frustrated like I often do with my two kids, you certainly can't tell. Other moms are constantly asking her how she does it all and I have often wondered how long it would take for her to stop smiling and tell them to shut up. Then I found out (not from her, might I add) that she has been fighting harder battles than getting her toddler to wear the shirt she put out for him, which is probably why her smile is of the most genuine kind, because she appreciates life in its every nuance. Or maybe that is just the way she is, maybe she just has a solar personality. Who knows?

 

 

 

 

What do we really know about the many people we come across every day, in our ordinary dealings? Not much really. It is so easy to wait by the school entrance with a bunch of moms and dads and just make assumptions about them and their lives. Maybe a sentence you overheard out of context or something as silly as a pair of shoes or a necklace creates an image in your mind of a person or family you really know nothing about. What do we know about their true story?

But this is a whole new topic. Forgive me for taking you for a ride down my stream of consciousness. My point is, when we take the time to get to know people better, we not only become better people ourselves, we also learn that the extraordinary exists in the most ordinary places. So look around and let yourself be inspired daily. I know I am.

 

 

 

Japanese curry

 

 

When you think curry, the first place that comes to mind is probably India followed by the UK and finally South East Asia with its multicolored variations.

What many of you might not know is that curry can be considered one of Japan's national dishes due to its popularity. It is served with rice, noodles or even as a soup and can be made with an incredible range of ingredients. This extremely widespread dish was introduced by the British back in the 19th century (the British Navy used to add curry powder to their otherwise traditional stews) and has become a more Westernized version of Indian curry as a result. Curry rice is probably the most popular kind (so much so that it is commonly just called curry) and is usually made with beef, pork or chicken and vegetables like carrots, potatoes and onions (but peas and mushrooms are popular too). Although it was originally cooked by preparing a roux with flour, oil and curry powder, nowadays adding instant roux - sold in blocks or powder - to the meat and vegetable stew is the most common way to make it. The blocks look like chocolate bars and come in varying degrees of spiciness: mild, medium hot and very hot.

 

 

 

 

The first time I had Japanese curry was in the early Nineties. My flatmate had sublet her room for the summer, I was still finishing my last exams at university before summer vacation, and so for a few weeks I crossed paths with a sweet, shy Japanese girl called Keiko. She was in Milan for the summer to study fashion design and one evening she said she would make us dinner. Those were the days when there were two, maybe three Japanese restaurants in town. The Japanese food trend had not caught on yet and the strange ingredients (raw fish! seaweed!) and high prices were eyed suspiciously by my friends. When a craving for sushi hit I usually went out to dinner with an English friend but it was not something we could do that often on a student budget. Naturally, I was over the moon at the thought of eating authentic Japanese food right in my very own kitchen.

 

 

A more liquid version you could eat with noodles

 

The last thing I expected upon entering the apartment, however, was the smell of curry. Keiko smiled at my surprised expression and explained it was one of her family's favorite meals. I dug in enthusiastically and loved it from the first bite.

 

Since then it has become a favorite of mine too. Back in the day I had to go to the only Japanese food store around to buy it and it was quite pricey. Now I can pretty much buy it in any Asian grocery (which have sprung up like mushrooms alongside the many Japanese restaurants in the city - there are at least 6 of them in a 5 minute walking radius from our apartment now) for under 5 euro and can whip up an authentic Japanese meal in under an hour!

 

It is one of those perfect pantry items to always have handy: it is simple to make, it is a crowd pleaser and an inexpensive and easy option to feed a large group. If you are not a meat lover, you can make a vegetarian/pescatarian version with shrimp or your favorite vegetables.

 

Plum galette with ginger ricotta filling

 

 

Plums may have been one of the first fruits to be domesticated by humans. Remains have been found dating from the Neolithic age. They were mentioned in writing by Confucius (also, in Chinese mythology, plums are associated with age and wisdom), the Greeks and the Romans.

 

They are the most cultivated fruit in the world after apples and they come in many colors, sizes and shapes. Plums are used in both sweet and savory preparations. They can be dried, pickled and are used to make alcoholic beverages in several countries.

 

Blah, blah, blah...

 

I know. You didn't come here for this. I mean, these facts may have been interesting and even amusing (in a nerdy-foodie kinda way), but this? This is just boring. Stuff you already know, and if you don't, maybe it is because you don't particularly care to know it.

Am I right?

 

I did want to tell you something... it's just that...

 

...

 

... my mind is a total blank...

 

For the life of me, I cannot come up with one single amusing or entertaining thing to write today.

 

 

 

 

 

But I have a dessert for you that I am just dying to share. I want to tell you about it even if I don't have a cutesy preamble for you. After all, this is a food blog, is it not?

 

So I am going to cut right to the chase and give you the recipe for a delightful, very seasonal, rustic yet elegant galette to make with your overabundance of plums.

 

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.



 

 

Smoked salmon and scallion cream cheese pinwheels

 

 

 

I know that for a lot of people who love to cook being on vacation means lots of time to prepare food for family and friends. They like to spend long mornings at local markets sourcing for ingredients they cannot find as good, as cheap - or at all in many cases - back home. They never leave home without their knives or some other favorite kitchen tool or essential ingredient. They relax firing up the barbecue or mixing large carafes of frozen cocktails.

 

I often entertain such Martha Stewart fantasies about moving at ease around a kitchen in Provence, French windows open on a garden where the children quietly play hide and seek behind the bushes and trees, a light flowing skirt swirling just above my tanned bare feet. A pinch of tarragon here, a drizzle of dry white wine there...

 

The reality, however is very different: I rarely cook consistently on vacation, especially summer vacation.

 

When we visit my husband's side of the family, there is no doubt about who reigns in the kitchen. I humbly hand over my scepter wooden spoon to my mother in law and busy myself with other things.

 

 

 

 

If we travel to the States every day is a whirlwind of friends and family to catch up with. We eat out up to twice a day sometimes and when we are home I spend a lot of time trying to contain my jet lagged, overexcited and overtired kids while my stepmother cooks up a delicious meal. Or we do what so many other fellow countrymen do: order in.

 

When visiting my mother, things are pretty much the same, minus the jet lag. Although, come to think of it, given Spanish hours, perhaps we should put jet lag back into the equation. There are lots of meals in restaurants and even more at family/friends' houses since the kids. When we do eat in, my mom takes care of the food while I, like the Cat in the Hat, save a vase with my left hand and a silver ashtray with my right while shouting at the kids for the umpteenth time to leave the dead snails and those piles of almonds, carobs and overripe figs outside of the front door please, not inside.

 

When we are on our own, by the time we get our tired, salty, sandy selves back from a long day at the beach, the most I can get myself to do is open a cold cerveza for my marido and myself and put some jamon, sobrasada and manchego out on the table for the niños, perhaps accompanied with some anchovy-filled olives and a glass or bowl of gazpacho.

 

This means that by the time I get back I am dying to get my hands chopping and slicing again and simultaneously a little rusty.

 

 

 

 

If you are feeling a little out of practice too, here is a really simple starter you can make in a matter of minutes. This is the perfect appetizer if you are on a no-carb mission after overeating during the holidays. Or, like us, you sometimes just miss a good NY sesame bagel with Nova and scallion cream cheese.

 

I made this following a mish-mash of different recipes online. Most of them said to refrigerate the roll for about an hour before cutting. That wasn't enough for me, so I stuck it into the freezer for another half hour and that made the process a lot less messy.