Chickpeas, Asparagus and a Splash of Lemon Salad So Good You Might Weep

Yes, it's true. "I'm a weeper. I weep."

(To borrow a line from one of my favorite movies, The Holiday, which does indeed make me weep.)

Just this morning I started weeping while making the kids' lunches. One may have thought it was because if I have to make one more school lunch I may start weeping and never stop.

But no, that wasn't it. Could have been but no.

(And yes, I could have my children make their own lunches but I have control issues.)

Out of the blue, I started thinking about how I'll have a daughter in high school next year. (!?!) And I teared up, right there, on the spot. Only 4 years left...

My daughter gave me a little hug, sighed and said, "Oh, Mom...." And then, went back to primping.

The 11-year old just shook his head and the 6-year old reminded me how he'll still be here.

And so it's been with all of this "cleaning out" and organizing, I've been a little weepy.

As I backed my car up to the donation center, I found a lump in my throat as I handed over the plastic, muti-colored alphabet mat (that I never liked). I blinked back tears as the Princess Party Tent was handed over even though I cursed that thing every time I had to set it up. A wave of nostalgia hit me as I pulled out the bag of pixel blocks that no one ever played with but I'd been holding onto for years and years because someone might.

I'm starting to think that the reason organizing and cleaning out can feel so overwhelming isn't the actual organizing and cleaning out but the letting go. Darn those kids...growing up and all.

Once I returned home, however, I felt a little lighter. Like a little weight had been lifted and I haven't missed the mat, tent and blocks once...until now as I'm typing this. Now, I'm blinking back tears.

And sometimes this is the way I feel when I face my fridge and try to figure out what to make for lunch or dinner...again. And sometimes just the thought of cooking again can make me weep. (Where's my personal chef when I need him?) I stand back from the fridge, observing, knowing that with all the little bits here and there, I should be able to pull something together.

And then, out of the blue, I'll remember that I have an entire case of garbanzo beans in the garage for all that hummus I was planning on making...but never did. And I'll remember a recipe I recently read that sounded intriguing and I'll start pulling out my version of that recipe.

Before I know it I'm sitting down to a lunch composed entirely of bits and pieces from my kitchen (and the garage) that needed to be cleaned out and used up. And as I sit there eating my scrumptious little lunch, I'll feel a little lighter. I'll feel that a little weight has been lifted.

And I won't be weeping, but simply enjoying, unless of course you remind me that my daughter is going to high school next year which I just reminded myself by typing it and then, well, then I might start weeping...again.



PS: You see, it never ends. I mentioned to the 6-year old how beautiful all of the cherry blossoms scattered all over the ground are. A bit like snowflakes. Grabbing a single petal, he runs inside and makes me this. Tears...

Chickpeas, Asparagus and a Splash of Lemon Salad
Inspired by Molly Wizenberg's recipe in Bon Appetit April 2011

So Ms. Molly, who's delightful blog, Orangette, I can't get enough of, had a chickpea salad recipe published in the April issue of Bon Appetit. It caught my fancy especially considering the case of chickpeas (garbanzo beans) I have in the garage that needs to be used up. Of course, I had to give it my own twist such as adding asparagus to it and setting it on a bed of lettuce. Simply delightful. A welcome change from all the winter food we've been having for so so long.

Ingredients:
1 sm/med garlic clove, peeled and minced
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice - 1/2 lemon
2 tbsp olive oil
pinch of salt
palmful of Italian parsley, coarsely chopped (approx 1 tbsp)
1 15 oz can garbanzo/chickpeas, drained and rinsed
roasted asparagus spears, cut into 1-inch segments, about 6 or whatever you have in the fridge
1/4 c grated Parmesan cheese
couple handfuls of baby greens

Directions:
Whisk together your garlic, lemon juice, olive oil, salt and parsley. If you have time, I would set this mixture aside and let the flavors "meld" for at least 10 minutes or up to an hour but if there is no extra time to be had you can continue on with delicious results.

Gently stir in your chickpeas, asparagus and Parmesan.

Spoon onto a bed of baby greens or whatever greens you love.

Munch away. Enjoy...

PS: A dear friend of mine told me that her sister mixed together garbanzo/chickpeas, sliced cherry tomatoes, olive oil and kosher salt this past weekend and served it alongside grilled steaks.

PPS: The above mentioned daughter who is headed to high school next year is 14 today. (sniff, sniff) While I try to keep dinners quick and simple on the weeknights, when it's a Birthday night, I do a little more. I'm planning on serving this salad tonight along with grilled chicken sausages, asparagus/pea risotto, strawberries and Birthday cake. It's making my stomach rumble just thinking about all that Birthday dinner goodness.

Here's my sweet girl back when she played in the Princess Party Tent....sigh.

....

Organizing Project:
I got nothin'... although, as I said above, I did actually make it to the donation center.

....

AM Northwest
I realized I never posted this on La Pomme last week. So, in case you're interested, here's a live version of yours truly along with lovely Helen making Apple and Rhubarb Baked in a Pie on AM Northwest. Cheers...



If you are unable to view a video screen above this line, click here to be taken directly to the link.





All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2011

Lighten Up Chili (i.e. Even in the Midst of Teenage Chaos There is Something to be Learned)

There I was in organizing bliss. Well, actually, scratch that. I was hyperventilating and covered in perspiration as I surveyed the boxes of games and puzzles with missing pieces and cried out in desperation, "Someone get me an Old Fashioned!" even though I don't drink Old Fashioneds but my Granny always used to ask for them and so I thought I would too. However, regardless of all that, I was actually organizing. And I wanted to continue organizing. Mother Nature had cancelled our plans for skiing and a commitment-free 3-day weekend lay before me. Since I had announced publicly on this here blog that I would be organizing weekly, I was feeling the pressure. People would be asking me how it was going. I had to have something to report back.

Deep in concentration assembling a Madeline puzzle, (I can't in good conscience donate a puzzle with missing parts, now can I?) my daughter flits by and says, "So, I'm having two people spend the night Sunday and we're making cookies for Ronald McDonald house for our community service project." To which I respond, "Yes, that's what we agreed on." "Okay," she says back and then adds on, "Oh, and some of us are talking about going to a movie. I don't know, like, tomorrow or something." "Oh, okay," I say non-chalantly to her while silently cursing this puzzle with its odd shaped pieces.

A few hours later, I am beside myself with frustration. "Where is the humongous fungus?! Nobody in their right mind will want to play Shrek Operation with a missing body part." Coming through a bin of random toy parts, I search for the humongous fungus. Seemingly out of nowhere, I detect my daughter's legs just outside the bin. She speaks to me saying, "Okay, so the 1:50 pm movie on Sunday works best but we might change it to Monday. We thought cookies from 4-6p on Sunday would be good but if the movie happens we'll do cookies on Monday. (pause) Oh, and Betty is coming too." To this last bit I pop my head up, "Wait a minute. I said two people. That's it." "But, Mom, Betty needs her community service too and we were already talking about it at school and I forgot." Overwhelmed with the amount of details coming at me and around me, I sigh and say, "Fine...but that's it. And who's taking you to the movies?" "Probably one of the other Moms."

Still perspiring but making progress, I had different piles going. One labeled, "Ready to Donate." Another labeled, "Missing pieces." And a final one, "Too far gone." Isn't it interesting how not one child has touched these items in years, but the minute I pull them out and spruce them up, it's like Christmas all over again? Out of the corner of my eye, I see the 5-year old taking apart the car carrier with all of its car pieces I had diligently located and before I could begin to address that situation, my daughter appears again saying something like, "Okay, Mom. So here's the plan. Betty, Barbara, Missy and Cindy are going to the movies with me. Dad is dropping us off. You can pick us up after you pick-up my dear brother from the party. Then, Cindy, Barbara and Betty will be arriving at 6pm for the sleepover. Linda will be coming at 8pm. We'll make cookies in the morning. Oh, but Betty has to leave early so you can just take me, Cindy, Barbara and Linda to drop off the cookies later that afternoon." I sat there...stunned. All I could manage to do was look at her and say, "Wait...what?" Somehow I knew I was being scammed but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Mid-weekend, I moved my unfinished organizing project to a corner of the room, knowing that the floor space would need to be available later that evening for sleeping teenage girls. At least, I hoped they would be sleeping. I called my daughter down to the room and asked her to sit down. "Now, here's the deal. I said two people. Somehow it's now four people which is fine...but here are the rules. I'm not okay with 5 in the morning bedtime. Look in my eyes. Right here." "I'm looking." "All lights and screens must be off by 1am which means if you want to watch a movie by what time do you need to start it?" "I know Mom." "No tell me, what is the latest time you can start the movie?" "11pm" "Right. And no kitchen raids after midnight. Say it, no kitchen raids after...?" "Midnight." "Lights and screens off by....?" "I know, Mom." "Tell me." With a giant exhale, she says, "1am." "I'm trusting you to be in charge of your friends." "I know." And with that I start up the stairs. "Uh...Mom?" my daughter calls up to me. "What?" "Well, I'm just asking you because they were asking me and I told them I would ask you but would it be okay if Louisa came too?" "No."

The evening progressed like any teenage slumber party would. They were polite at dinner. Ate their chili. Said please and thank you. Cleared their dishes. But once my sweetie and I had retired to our bedroom, they raided the kitchen after midnight. Ran around the house whispering and giggling until 2am. At 4am, my sweetie finally went downstairs to remind them that five hours of cookie baking lay ahead of them and it would be best if they got some sleep.

Bleary-eyed the next morning (or should I say a few hours later?) they reluctantly started mixing up cookie dough. "How many cookies do we need? Four dozen cooked plus dough for the freezer. Why do they need dough for the freezer? I don't know. Just do it." They mixed. They rolled. They baked. They asked if they could take a break and walk down to Starbucks. I said no but pointed to the pile of dishes they could do and continued chatting with my neighbor who had kindly come over for moral support. They sighed. They washed. They dried. They decorated. They sprinkled. They packaged. And finally, they loaded up and we headed to the Ronald McDonald house. Driving there, exhausted, I thought to myself, "Never again."

The house was quiet but warm. The girls presented their goods to the manager on site. She asked them if they knew what purpose the Ronald Mcdonald house served. They nodded yes. She gave them statistics about how many families lived there at one time. What kind of patients they usually had there. The girls listened to her attentively. She explained to them that the house was quiet now because the children were out getting their chemo treatments. It was in that moment that I saw a softening of their faces. She took them to a bulletin board with photos of all the families currently living there. Names and faces made these unknown patients become real for them. Finally, she said to them, "I bet you're wondering why we asked for the unbaked cookie dough?" Again, they nodded yes. "Because within an hour of arriving at the hospital they take on the smell of the hospital. It's in their hair. Their clothes. Their skin. The smell of baking cookies helps mask that smell and makes this place feel more like...a home for them. And then, of course, the cookies themselves are a nice treat." I looked over at the girls. All of the "teenageresque" attitude had disappeared and they stood there with genuine interest and concern at what they were being told. Perhaps realizing that what had seemed like a chore for them, meant so much to someone else.

"They just want to smell cookies baking," I kept thinking to myself as I dropped each girl off at her home. All of the anxiety about organizing and teenage slumber parties and the chore of baking cookies suddenly seemed so trivial when compared to simply wanting the smell of freshly baked cookies to mask the smell of sickness. And it was in that moment that I knew I should never have said never because I would absolutely do it all again just to fulfill that one simple request.




Tying up a few loose ends from my last post....

And the winner of the Seattle's Best Coffee Curiosity Pack, as chosen by the 5-year old, is:

I know where to find you. I will hand deliver it to you. Enjoy.....



I've had a few of you stop me in my tracks to let me know you made the White Bean and Kale Soup Peppered with Pancetta and you couldn't believe it, your family loved it, "green stuff and all." For a live version of how to make that soup, here's a video of yours truly whipping it up with Helen on AM Northwest.


If a video screen does not appear above this line, click here to be taken directly to the site.




Lighten Up Chili

This is a chili recipe that I go back to time and time again. Everyone loves it. It's easy to make. And with snow rain and Super Bowl season upon us, it's a good one to have on hand. I usually make this with 2 pounds of ground beef but because our family isn't eating as much beef as we used to, I decided to lighten it up with half ground turkey, half ground beef and you know....I liked it even better. I will give those of you with a delicate system sensitive to the ways of beans fair warning to perhaps discreetly take a beano or two before consuming this Chili....not that I would have any personal experience with that or anything. And, of course, this dish is always a hit with the teenager bunch. You can see that I had to scrape the pot just to have a couple tablespoons to photograph for you sweet people.


Ingredients:

2 tbsp olive oil
1 lb lean ground beef
1 lb ground turkey
salt and pepper
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 c celery, diced, about 2-3 stalks
1 red pepper, seeded and diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 15 oz can diced or whole tomatoes with juice
1 15 oz can tomato sauce
1 6 oz can tomato paste
2 tsp cumin
3 tsp chili powder
1-2 tsp red pepper flakes, depending on how spicy you like it
optional: 1 tsp of granulated sugar
1 15 oz can kidney beans, drained
1 15 oz can black beans, drained

Toppings: grated cheddar cheese and chopped green onions

Directions:

In a heavy-bottomed soup pot, heat your olive oil. Brown your ground beef and turkey over medium heat. Drain grease if necessary but remember that a little bit of grease can add a lot of flavor.

Add your onion, celery and red pepper to the pot with the meat and saute 5 minutes of so. Add your garlic and saute another minute or two.

Add your tomatoes, tomato sauce, tomato paste, cumin, chili powder and red pepper flakes. Stir to combine. Taste. Depending on the canned tomatoes you used, you may find you need to add a teaspoon of granulated sugar to sweeten it up just a bit.

Bring to a boil, then reduce your heat and simmer for 1 hour.

Add your beans and simmer 30 more minutes. Taste and add salt and pepper if necessary. Ladle into bowls and serve with grated cheese and green onions. Enjoy.

(For the teenager set, I also put out a bowl of Cowboy Caviar, homemade guacamole, tortillas chips and a plate of sliced apples. They devoured it all.)

Yield: One big pot full.




Organizing Project:
Jan 10-16: Only made it halfway through dreaded toy/game closet before I had to step out for oxygen.
Jan 17-23: Finish dreaded toy/game closet.

How are you all doing with your organizing? I've heard from more than a few of you who originally said you weren't joining me in the insanity and now..... while I'm still trying to get through one closet, you've sorted through multiple rooms, entire wardrobes and even laid down beautiful new contact paper in kitchen cupboards. "Sigh..." I'm so proud of you. (Or, do I detect a little competition going on here? Game on!)


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

The Super Duper Pooper Scooper...Makes White Bean and Kale Soup

"I feel like a...like a...sh@$ shoveler. I can't help it and I know I'm like a broken record whining and moaning about this every year at this time. But I do. Every year there's this grand celebration about gifts and giving but once it's over and everyone has moved on to the next "big thing" who has to take care of the clean-up? Go through the old stuff to make room for the new stuff? Figure out what to do with the old stuff? Dump? Goodwill? Craig's List? Me, the sh@$ shoveler, that's who. Where's the giving in that?? I should have known that this would be part of my destiny. All those years of my parents handing me a bucket and a shovel and pointing to the dog pen while my father called out, 'There she goes, our little Super Duper Pooper Scooper!'"

And on and on I went, lamenting to one of my dearest, dearest friends about the aftermath of the holidays. Same old song and dance. But I can't help it. It's how I feel every year. The prospect of a pile of new stuff coming into our house just doesn't thrill me the way it might for other people. I tend to be cranky about it. I've been called Scrooge. I've even been told by my sweetie that I can be downright "scary" about the whole thing. And I know that any family member of mine who might be reading this right now is probably rolling his or her eyes....."Here she goes again."

But here's the thing....nothing thrills me more than a small handful of freshly sharpened pencils. A medicine cabinet that is organized and labeled. Lego pieces that have been separated into individual bins - Small, Medium, Large, People...as opposed to dumped into one big bin or "Horrors!" strewn across the floor making it difficult for people to walk down the hallway without knocking over a prized creation. A toy closet with up-to-date toys as opposed to one filled with toddler toys no longer used or wanted. A bookshelf with just a few loved possessions on it. Less is more. Less is more. Bring more stuff in the house and now "we" (ie: me)  have to find a new place for it. In closets that are already full.

As the years have gone by and time has become scarce due to the magnitude of responsibilities required for raising a family, I haven't been able to indulge my OCD tendencies like I used to. Organizing and purging take a lot of time. But, opening a closet, a cupboard or just walking in our garage has become a hazard. And every passing day, I become grumpier and grumpier about the situation.

And then, the funniest thing happened. I hung up the phone after my "vent session" and paragraph one, above, kept replaying in my mind. Over and over and over. And what I heard was that I am, in fact, the "Super Duper Pooper Scooper." So let's get going. Less talking...more walking. Just like the dishes....can't think about it. Just do it. And so, right at that very moment, I grabbed my labeler, wrote garbage on one bag and donate on another and ran up the stairs. I hauled everything out of my medicine cabinet and my toiletries drawer and dumped it on the floor. I wiped down the shelves. Dug out from another closet the organizing bin I'd purchased years ago for my drawer. Fired up the labeler. Categorized. Organized. Pitched. Purged. And not but an hour or two later, I stood back and admired my new sparkly clean and organized bathroom. I felt refreshed. I could breathe.

Right then and there, in that moment of blissful deep breathing, I decided that this had to continue. I had to make this a goal for 2011 - Clean out all closets, and dare I say it, the garage!! Lighten the load. And so, my dear friends, I have blocked out a regular time each week that I will be purging based on my prioritized list. Whatever gets done during that time is what gets done. I have been trying to talk my dear friend and neighbor into doing this with me. It could be like a race. As soon as the last ones are on the bus, we announce what we are organizing that day and then,...."On your mark get set go." We would meet back up at lunch time to discuss our progress. A little competition is always good for getting things done.

Want to join me...us? Choose your day, afternoon, evening. Perhaps tell me what is first on your list to organize. A little accountability is always good. I will be posting at the bottom of my weekly posts, what I will be organizing that week and whether or not I finished the project from the week before. That's my way of being accountable. Once winter is over....the spring cleaning may already be done.

In the meantime, as a way to lessen what actually comes into our home, I will continue to preach my time-honored mantras to my tribe:

Less is more.
Use up what you already have. 
Don't just buy to buy.
Take a moment to actually consider your purchases. 
Purge what is no longer needed. (This does not mean throw it in the garage or an already full closet.)
Time is a gift.

Hopefully one day, on the way from one ear to another, what I'm staying will get stuck there in the middle.



And speaking of gifts, here is one for one of you.....

Seattle's Best Coffee Curiosity Pack

The kind people at Seattle's Best Coffee have sent me a Curiosity Pack - 5 blends, 1 box - to give to one of you. I think the idea is quite ingenious. It's a way to try out a variety of blends, without having to purchase large quantities, in order to determine which type of coffee you like best. Mild, light, crisp...to bold, dark, intense. Should you be interested in receiving this little gift, leave me your name and email address in a comment below by the end of the day Friday, January 14th. I will draw a name from a hat and email the lucky person.

And while you're leaving comments....does anyone have any tips for organizing my nemesis....LEGOS!!



White Bean and Kale Soup Peppered with Pancetta

Since I was so busy with my organizing frenzy, no plans were made for dinner that evening. No inspiration was to be found. However, preaching my own mantras to myself, especially, "Use up what you already have.", I went to the cupboard and discovered I still had the ingredients for a soup I had planned to make the week before but never did. My family loves this soup and it incorporates one of those nutrient filled winter greens...kale. I'm sure if you wanted a vegetarian version, you could omit the pancetta and substitute vegetable stock for the chicken stock. Wouldn't be quite as richly flavored but would still be good, I'm sure. If you don't have cannellini beans, you could substitute any other white bean that you like. Make sure you read through the recipe below before starting. Dried beans are added at a different time than canned beans.

Ingredients:

1 lb dried cannellini beans OR 3 15-oz cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
2 tbsp olive oil
4 oz pancetta, diced
1 large yellow onion, peeled and diced
4 large carrots, peeled and diced
4 large celery sticks, diced
5 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp salt
1 tsp dried oregano
pinch of red pepper flakes
freshly ground black pepper
10 cups chicken stock
6 c loosely packed kale, chopped (I prefer lacinato kale.)
grated, parmesan cheese

Directions:
If using dried beans, rinse and pick over the dried beans, removing any possible pebbles. Put them in a heat-proof bowl. Cover beans with 8 cups of boiling water and let them soak for 1 hour. When they are finished, drain them in a colander. Meanwhile, start the rest of your soup.


In a large soup pot, heat your olive oil. Add pancetta and brown, about 5 minutes. Add onions, carrots and celery. Saute until soft about 8 minutes. Add garlic and saute 1 minute more. At this point you can remove from heat until your beans are ready.

Once dried beans have finished soaking, add them to the pot with your vegetables. Stir in the oregano, red pepper flakes, salt, a few cracks of black pepper and your chicken broth.

Bring the soup to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for 45 minutes. (30 minutes if you're using canned beans.)  Test for seasoning. Adding a bit more salt and pepper or red pepper flakes if needed.

Add your kale to the pot and if using canned beans, add them at this point as well. Simmer another 30 minutes until beans are soft.

Ladle into soup bowls. Top with grated parmesan cheese and enjoy.

Yield: One big pot full.


Super Duper Pooper Scooper Goal:
Jan 3-9 - medicine cabinet/toiletries drawer - done.
Jan 10-16 - dreaded shelves in game/toy closet


All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

Pasta e Fagioli Soup for a Tired Mind

It's only Monday and yet, I woke up exhausted. The kind of exhausted that hits you to the core. I thought, "Gads...I need a weekend to recover from the weekend." Somehow I managed to drag myself downstairs and throw lunches together for my children. The standard fare...peanut butter and jelly, grapes, a couple of cookies, some water. Under the circumstances, it was the best I could do. After setting the finished lunch boxes on the counter, I started making my way around the house to open all of the blinds. Growing up, I would watch as my mother would put down every blind in the house in the evening and then, reverse this daily ritual in the morning. I seemed to have inherited it. This closing down or opening up our home every evening and every morning. As I pulled back the curtains in the living room, my eye caught the ever-growing flock of weeds in my flower bed. They almost seemed to be taunting me as they waved back and forth in the windy weather. Right next to them was the patch of proliferating clover that seems to be taking over my lawn. I sighed, looked at the rain pouring down and thought, "Not today."

For the first time in weeks, everyone was off in his own corner of the city. No one was home sick. The house was silent. Out of sheer will power I hopped up on the elliptical machine for 30 minutes hoping that might give me a burst of energy. As my legs went around and around like a gerbil in a habitrail ball, I watched a recorded episode of Parenthood. I realized I must really be losing my mind be tired because I cried through the whole thing especially the part where the father says to his teenage daughter, "You're right. There is a double-standard and it's not fair. But you're my daughter. And......life's not fair." I thought about the time in high school when I was at a friend's house. Her parents were away and we were hanging out there with her older brother and his friends when suddenly my Dad shows up and yanks me out of there. At the time I was mortified and thought he was over-protective and nuts but now, of course, I realize he was just trying to keep me safe.

Somehow I managed to tackle the stack of bills, the "overflowing" email in-box and fetch my youngest ones from school. But then, when it came time to tackle dinner, the will-power started to wane. Too tired to go to the grocery store, I stood at the door of the pantry praying something would pop out at me. We'd had pizza last week more times than I care to admit. I couldn't serve it again.  I spied a half used box of orecchiette pasta and some canned beans on the shelf. Grabbing those, the gears in my mind slowly started to turn. In the fridge, I found some pancetta left over from last week's big day. An onion on the counter. And, out on the deck, were my newly planted herb boxes just waiting to be put to use.

As I laid our dinner of Pasta e Fagioli soup, greens with a homemade vinaigrette and some "day-old" bread I had livened back up with parmesan cheese sprinkled on top and a quick run under the broiler, I was relieved that I wasn't putting pizza on the table...again. Watching my family enjoy this simple meal, I reminded myself that, even at our most exhausted, it's amazing what we can come up with if we just take a moment to look around and see what's there.

Pasta e Fagioli Soup
Inspired by Giada De Laurentiis' recipe of the same name 

I have been making this dish for years and my kids love it. I tend to fall back on this when I can't think of  anything else to make because I usually have all of the ingredients in the house and it's so simple to put together. I always make it with kidney beans but I suppose you could switch those out for another kind such as cannellini beans if you would prefer. I have a little herb garden that I keep year round on my back deck so I always tend to have fresh herbs around (unless an ice storm has come through and killed everything) but you could definitely use dried herbs if the fresh aren't available to you.

Ingredients:
4 sprigs of fresh thyme
1 med fresh rosemary sprig
1 bay leaf
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp of butter
1 cup chopped onion
3 ounces pancetta or bacon, chopped
2 garlic cloves
8 cups reduced-sodium chicken broth
2 (14 1/2 ounce) cans red kidney beans, rinsed and drained
3/4 cup penne pasta (or any other "smallish" shaped pasta)
freshly ground pepper
freshly grated parmesan cheese


Directions:
Heat a large, heavy saucepan over medium heat. Add your olive oil and butter and heat until butter is melted. Add your onion, pancetta and garlic and saute until the onion is tender and transluscent about 5 minutes. Add the broth, beans and herbs. Cover and bring to a boil over high heat, then decrease the heat to medium and simmer until the vegetables are very tender, about 10 minutes. At this point, using tongs or a slotted spoon, pull out the stems from the herbs and the bay leaf and discard.

Add your pasta, cover and boil, until pasta is tender but still firm to the bit, about 8 minutes.

Season your soup with pepper. Ladle into bowls and and sprinkle with parmesan cheese. Enjoy.

Yield: 6 servings or so



All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009-2010

Oh, Ye, Benevolent Butternut Squash Minestrone

With Herculean effort, I was dragging the bag, filled with the remnants of my vegetable garden, up the never-ending flight of stairs and muttering to myself about what a hair-brained idea of mine it had been to put the garden back there. What kept me going; however, was knowing that my dear, sweet children were in the front yard, dutifully performing their family project for that weekend - raking the leaves. I was anticipating the relief I would feel once I saw the pristine lawn and beds, all of which was to be made possible by their kindhearted effort.

(Yes, that is a spider man band-aid on my finger. Click here to learn how to peel and dice butternut squash without impaling yourself.)

As I mounted the last stair and peeked around the garage, I was met with silence. I stood there perplexed. Confused. Not a sole (or a rake) in sight. "Huh. Where did they all go?" I looked at the lawn. Better...but still a layer of leaves. The beds were still chock full of leaves and the water run-off gully was still clogged. With my load of yard debris still at my side, I could feel myself getting worked up. I heaved the bag over to the side of the garage and slammed it down. In long, heavy strides, I crossed to the front door, opened it up and yelled, "Where are you guys?" The eldest and the youngest, immediately surfaced, (already sporting slippers and warm sweaters) claiming, "We thought we were done." The 10-year old came out of his commando hiding spot about 10 minutes later, grinning but clearly, guilty. I, meanwhile, had grabbed a rake and started to forcefully rake up at least 10 more piles. Stewing. Talking to myself. Saying things like, "Why do I have to be the only one to do these things?" "What am I raising here...a bunch of royalty?" "Oh, I bet their enjoying their time in front of the TV, playing legos, reading a good book while I'm out here RAKING! In the freezing COLD!"

(In case you were wondering about my main squeeze, he was upstairs doing the laundry. We have a bit of a role reversal here in our family.)

I have found that, sometimes, I do my best parenting when I'm tired, have run out of patience and have worked myself up into a frenzy. So, in that moment of frenetic leaf raking, "The Benevolence Jar" was born.

Later that evening at our family dinner, I presented the concept behind "The Benevolence Jar". (My dear, sister can't get past the fact that I named it The Benevolence Jar and yes, maybe that was a bit over the top but still...it sounds important, distinguished.)

"Do you know what benevolence means? Anyone?" Silence. "I define benevolence as not just being kind but having the wisdom to know why you are being kind. Like last night, Daddy picked up dinner for us, served it and did all the dishes to be kind, yes, but also, because he knew I was tired. When you say, "Good Morning," to your brothers and sisters you do it to be kind, yes, but also to show that you care about them." I went on with more examples, a speech about how a family needs to operate like a team with everyone pitching in and so on and so forth. Unsure of what was to come, the kids remained silent. Then, I laid two jars on the table. One filled halfway with pennies. One empty but labeled "Benevolence."

"You three will need to work together to fill "The Benevolence Jar." You do so by performing one or more of these acts of kindness that I've put here on the list." I unrolled the single spaced list, at least three sheets long, that I had typed up upon coming inside from the leaf frenzy. "I will tape this to the refrigerator for your reference."

"Each night at dinner we will go around the table and you can toot your own horn about the kind things you have done that day in regards to our family. You're on the honor system here since I can't be watching you at every moment. Should you behave selfishly or cruelly to members of this family, well, then, a penny will come out of the benevolence jar and you will need to earn it again. Once the jar is filled, I will treat you to a trip to Skinnidip, a round of bowling, an afternoon movie or an evening of board games. Your choice. We start tomorrow." From the sparkle I detected in their eyes, I could tell that the game was on.

For the first week, pennies were going in the jar for clearing dishes, emptying backpacks and lunch boxes without complaining, remembering to say, "Good morning" or "How was your day?" to family members. The boys were the first ones to have pennies come out of the jar, one for teasing, one for biting. I packed up those jars and hauled them with us to Central Oregon where we spent a glorious, snowy Thanksgiving week with Nana and Papa. Have benevolence, will travel.

As the days went by, I began to notice a difference in their behavior. Instead of busting past his little brother to get to the sink first for hand-washing, the 10-year old consciously slowed down and let his brother go first. I found them asking more and more often, "Is there anything else I can do?" "Mom, can I clear your dishes?" Of course, there were times when the whole process was a bit questionable, such as when the 12-year old, in teen-speak, says to the teary, 4-year old, "Hey, I'm sorry I said "Chilladelphia" to you, but you are waaaaay past spicy." To which he replies, "I just don't want to hear that." To which, I comment, "Thank you for using your words to tell your sister that instead of screaming." And, the competitive, 10-year old, focused on filling the jar, perks up, saying, "Penny in the jar?"

Back at home, the eve before returning to school/work, I put down bowls of Butternut Squash Minestrone (aka: Old Mother Hubbard Went to the Cupboard and These Were the Ingredients She Found) and some warm, cheddar biscuits. Six pennies were left to be put in "The Benevolence Jar." At this point, however, they were pros and they ticked them right off with things like, "Not only helping us load and pack the car for coming home without complaining but asking us what else you could do to help even when that meant taking out the garbage." "For waiting and allowing your sister to climb into the back of the car first instead of busting your way in and making her climb over you." And the last penny, went in for the littlest one, "For not acting goofy when sitting on Santa's lap. Nicely talking to him about your list and explaining the pictures you drew. Remembering to tell him "Thank You" when you were done."

As with anything, I'm sure the novelty will wear off, but I can enjoy it for now, can't I? And, perhaps, if I can get one last, "job well-done" family rake project under my belt, it will all be worth it.

When we were done eating, the 10-year old dumped the pennies out of "The Benevolence Jar" and back to their starting position. He then, flipped a penny back into the jar, and skipped off toward the kitchen sink, hollering, "Cleared my dishes without complaining." And so, we begin again.

Oh, Ye, Benevolent Butternut Squash Minestrone

As I'm sure you can relate, I returned home after a week of being gone, to rather bare cupboards. Not in the mood to head out to the grocery store, I decided to evaluate what I had on hand. The rather, phallic, butternut squash that had been sitting on the counter for weeks immediately cried out to me as if it was equipped with an alarm. And, so, I built this soup dish around him. Not having any bread on hand either, I pulled out this old biscuit recipe from the recipe box and threw in a handful of minced chives from the chives in my yard who have clearly not read the memo stating that winter is almost here and it's time to stop growing. Enjoy.

2 tbsp olive oil

1 leek, white and light green parts, chopped

1 med onion, chopped

1 1/2 c carrots, about 3, diced

2 celery stalks, diced

1 1/2 c butternut squash, diced (dice up and freeze your remaining squash for future recipes)

4 sprigs of thyme

2 tbsp fresh sage, chopped

1 bay leaf

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

2 qt chicken broth

2 med white boiling potatoes, cubed

1 15-oz can of cannellini beans, drained and rinsed

1/2 cup orzo pasta

freshly, grated parmesan cheese

Heat your olive oil in a large soup pot. Add your leek, onion, carrots and celery and saute about 10 minutes, until your onions are transluscent. Add your butternut squash, thyme, sage, bay leaf, salt and pepper and potatoes to the pot. Pour in your chicken stock, cover and bring to a boil. With your lid askew, simmer for about 30-40 minutes or until your veggies are soft. Add the beans and the pasta. At a high simmer, cook for another 10 minutes, or until pasta is cooked through. If you plan to let your soup simmer on the stove for longer than 40 minutes, do not add your beans and pasta until closer to when you plan to serve your soup.

Ladle into shallow bowls and serve with the parmesan cheese and salt and pepper. Add a basket of warm biscuits and some sliced, apples or pears and dinner is served.

Yield: A big "pot-full." Enough for a family of 5 with leftovers to pop into thermoses the next day for lunch away from home.

Cheddar Cheese Biscuits

1 1/2 c white flour

1 1/2 c whole, wheat pastry flour

1 1/2 tbsp baking powder

1 tbsp sugar

2 1/4 tsp salt

2 1/2 c heavy cream

1 cup grated, sharp cheddar cheese

2 tbsp minced chives (optional)

3 tbsp butter

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Combine flour, baking powder, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Add cream, cheese and chives and stir gently with a wooden spoon, mixing just until dough holds together.

Turn dough out onto a lightly floured work surface. Knead once or twice, just enough to incorporate cream and cheese into flour mixture. Handle dough as little as possible, or biscuits will not rise.

Roll out dough about 1" thick on a lightly floured work surface. Cut with a 1 3/4" biscuit cutter or a champagne flute. Place biscuits about 2" apart on ungreased cookie sheets, then set aside for 10 minutes. Allowing dough to rest at this stage will produce taller, lighter biscuits. (Biscuits, once cut, may be frozen.)

Melt butter in a small skillet over low heat, then cool slightly. (Or pop in the microwave for about 20 seconds.) Brush biscuit tops with butter. Bake until golden brown, about 20 minutes. Serve warm from the oven.

Biscuits are best eaten immediately, but can be reheated for 5-10 minutes in a 300 degree oven. Frozen biscuits may be baked without thawing. Bake in a preheated 300 degree oven for 20 minutes, then increase heat to 350 degrees and bake for 5 more minutes.

Yield: about 40 biscuits. I have "halved" this recipe with great success.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Pork Loin and Cannellini Beans

We had just closed the chapter on the 2009 fall sports season. Nana and Papa had already headed back up the I-5 corridor after kindly attending yet another sporting event. I had in the car with me, my chickens plus one cousin. They were unusually quiet and with the sun beaming in at just the right angle, I was feeling sleepy. Well, alright, more than sleepy. As in having to slap myself on the cheeks and roll down the window to keep from falling asleep at the wheel kind of sleepy. (But, shhh, don't tell my sister. Her child was perfectly safe.)

We pulled into the driveway and I instructed the troops to enter the house very, very quietly seeing as the youngest cousin of all was sure to still be napping. As predicted, the house was silent and my sister was curled up reading a book. Ahhh...if only it could last. Soon, it was as if we had opened the gate to the hen house and all of the chickens were running around frenzied in the yard. The littlest cousin was up at this point, adding his squawking to the mix and all was as it should be. And then...I did something. Something that can only be done in the presence of one's sister.

I curled myself up on the couch in the middle of the chicken fest. Me and the cat. And, I went to sleep. Right there. Out. Hard. No thoughts of being any kind of hostess to my guests...blood relatives or not. Only thoughts of sleep. And sleep I did. I was later told that I unbelievably slept through the 18-month old composing his 1st symphony on the piano, teen nick shows playing loudly in the living room, all sorts of car, train and lightsaber sound effects being blasted away at full volume and any number of plastic ride-on cars and grocery carts being zoomed past me.

When I, the sleeping princess, finally awoke, I couldn't believe the time. Had I really slept that long? For crying out loud, it was time to make dinner. In my groggy state, I went to the cupboard to pull out the supplies for my pre-planned meal only to discover that I had failed to purchase the main ingredient. Now, what? I had a house full of hungry beings and time was tick, tick, tickin' away. I couldn't do pizza....again. I decided to get creative. Sometimes a good thing...sometimes not. I had whipped up a delicious tomato and shallot pasta sauce a few weeks ago (Have you figured out that I have a thing for tomatoes and shallots?) and since I still had some tomatoes from the little garden that could I thought I'd try that again. But then, I started to stray from the tried and true. I decided to peel the tomatoes. Why? I've never bothered to do that before. And then, I added a chopped up red pepper. Why? I know full well that if you add red pepper to a sauce without another strong ingredient to balance it out such as sausage...well, it's just too strong for our likin'. I looked at my paltry sauce and started to panic that there wasn't enough so I grabbed a jar of Dave's Gourmet Pasta Sauce from Costco. And, poured half in. Why? In the meantime, I sauteed up some shitake mushrooms hanging out in the back of the produce drawer, cut up some apples and declared dinner served. I also made sure to slap down a wedge of parmesan cheese. Parmesan cheese generously grated over anything makes it taste better.

We put the chickens at their own table and my sister and I sat down at the dining room table with my slapstick meal and a glass of wine. I don't recall that my sweetie was with us. I think he may have been hiding. She and I took a deep breath, clinked out glasses and then, talked about friendships, about writing, about life. We discussed the merits of Seinfeld's "Good Naked vs Bad Naked" theory since she had earlier walked in on the baby who appeared to be "diggin' for grubs" while wearing his birthday suit. We talked about religion, about world peace, about working in and out of the home. She shared with me a trick for getting rid of fruit flies. "Set a little ramekin of red wine on the counter with a few drop of dish soap in there. Come morning, your problem will be greatly improved." We talked about raising children, teaching children, feeding children. We shared recipes. Thoughts on nutrition. Recent successes in the kitchen. We were able to relax and just be with each other. To realize that it doesn't always have to be about the food (or the hostessing). More often than not, it's the company that matters most.

The following evening, my sister and her little band of boys had long since disappeared up the I-5 corridor. I was at my computer checking my calendar and email. What did the following week have in store for me? At the top of the list of unread emails was one, already, from my sister. A recipe for Pork Loin and Cannellini Beans. I smiled. Grateful to have that recipe since I was out of dinner ideas and grateful to have shared my weekend with her.

Slow Cooker Pork Loin and Cannellini Beans

Now, that you know, dear friend, that I am "morning-challenged", slow-cooker recipes aren't usually my thing. They require someone who is up and at 'em, fully conscious, organized in the wee hours and well, that's just not me but since this recipe required only 5-6 hours of cooking as opposed to the requisite 8, I was able to pull it off. I happened to serve it over brown rice but quinoa would be equally as good. My sister says that on night two, she wraps the leftovers up into tortillas and serves pork burritos for dinner.

2 tsp Herbes de Provence or 1 tsp ea dried sage and rosemary

2 garlic cloves

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp black pepper

2.5 lbs pork tenderloin

4 tbls extra-virgin olive oil

1 onion, chopped

1 c. white wine

2 cans (14.5 oz ea) cannellini beans

1 can (14.5 oz) fire roasted diced tomatoes

1/4 c chopped sage

1 tsp chopped fresh rosemary

1/4 c. parsley leaves

2 tbls toasted pine nuts (optional)

Rub dried herbs, half the garlic, salt and the pepper over the pork.

Heat half the oil in a skillet over medium-high heat; brown pork all over, about 8 min. Place in slow cooker.

Cook onion in skillet over med heat 3 minutes. Increase heat to med-high. Add wine; boil 7 minutes. Drain and rinse beans; stir into skillet with tomatoes. Simmer 12 minutes.

In food processor, finely chop remaining garlic, 2 tbls oil, fresh sage, rosemary, parsley and pine nuts. Stir half into tomato mixture, then pour over pork. Cover; cook on LOW for 5 to 6 hours or until pork is tender.

Remove pork. Turn slow cooker to HIGH; stir in remaining herb mixture to heat. Serve with pork.

Yield: Plenty for 5 people with leftovers to enjoy the next evening or to place in a ziploc and freeze to enjoy in the weeks to come.

All original text and photos copyright: Carrie Minns 2009

Rainy Day Vegetable Soup

After years of cajoling, pleading, begging and badgering by my children...I finally planted the oft-promised vegetable garden. Of course, once the hoopla surrounding the choosing of the vegetables and the planting of the seeds was over, I was left alone to tend to my little plot. (Just as I'm sure would happen if I ever cave to the cries of, "When can we have a puppy?" Just me, the full grown dog, his hair and his, well, his "business" to pick up.) All that aside, I am thoroughly happy to tend to my garden. There is something quite gratifying about seeing those little green shoots poke their way up out of my plot's blank canvas. Even more satisfying is skipping back into the kitchen with a bowl full of my very own lettuce for that evening's salad. Lettuce I didn't have to pay for. Lettuce I didn't have to use the car to acquire. Lettuce that I know hasn't been sprayed with anything other than water. And, never mind about the little holes throughout the leaves, I'm happy to share my harvest with a few nighttime critters.

My little "potager" was ticking right along. The lettuce season was drawing to a close as the weather heated up. I was looking forward to my summer produce. Luscious tomatoes, crisp cucumbers and loads of zucchini I'd have to leave on doorsteps of neighbors in the middle of the night because I wouldn't know what to do with it all. And then, dear friend, as I'm sure you can sympathize...a water leak. One of those household maintenance projects that comes at you out of nowhere and scoots itself right to the top of the To Do list and strong arms everything else aside. There sat my precious garden. Right beneath the culprit of the leak...horrors! Over the course of the next few weeks, I watched as my tomato plants bravely stretched out their arms, baring their little yellow flowers and green globes. The zucchini put out its cheery orange blossoms and the cucumber plant decided to climb out and over the side. The beans bailed on the trellis and instead, scampered all over the ground. Meanwhile, a hailstorm of sawdust and debris tumbled down onto my little plants. Men on ladders were climbing up and over them. Mother Nature decided to heat up Portland to an unheard of 106 degrees. (Or 110, or 115 depending on whom you speak with and how much they like to embellish.) Their branches were broken. Their green leaves appeared to be covered with snow. And yet, even at the worst of it, when I could hardly bear to watch, I'd peak out from behind the curtain and somehow they were still there. Growing. Thriving.

I'm happy to report that I reaped my first harvest. Not much I'll admit but still...it's something. I popped the first 5 cherry tomatoes right into my mouth...well, after I gave them a good brushing off. Didn't share nary a one. I wasn't sure what to expect considering that their growing environment had been less than ideal. Ummmm. Sweet. Luscious. Juicy. And, the best part of homegrown tomatoes right off the vine...they were still warm from the sun.

As often happens here in Portland, even in the summer, our warm, morning sun was quickly blotted out by rain clouds, the temperature dropped and what should have been a day full of sprinklers and peals of laughter, became a day that sent everyone indoors, putting on jammies, wool socks and pining away for a nice, fall soup. Usually, I don't make this soup until autumn when the kids are back in school and apples are in season but considering that I had fresh, green beans at my beckon call and the weather had taken a turn...I went ahead. Plus, being a prolific soup maker, I had finally used the gift card my parents had bestowed upon me two years ago for Christmas to buy a brand new soup pot and I was dying to give it a whirl. So, there I stood, happy as a clam, cutting up my onions, green beans, zucchini and carrots while I sipped on a glass of scott paul pinot noir, cuvée Martha Pirrie, in honor of my dear father-in-law (or as the French say and I much prefer, my “beau-pére”) who passed away a year ago this day. I had his favorite Herb Alpert & the Tijuana Brass song, A Taste of Honey, playing in the background and I contentedly found myself lost in my remembrances of him and surrounded by the warm, swirling smells of sautéed onions.

I set down steaming bowls of my vegetable soup, a plate of Ayers Creek Farm blackberries and yellow peaches, sliced ciabatta bread and remnants of cheese pieces I found in the fridge - goat, brie, a hunk of cheddar - on the worn kitchen table. Within minutes, my children had licked their platters clean and we were nourished and fulfilled by our humble meal. We talked about Grandad. His smile. His quiet laugh. His humming. His love for his grandkids. And, as my sweetie put it, his gratitude for seemingly small things. So, please, if you will, dear friend, raise a glass for Grandad, his genuine gratitude and the pleasure of the harvest no matter how small. No matter how dusty.

Rainy Day Vegetable Soup - Summer Version

Ingredients:

1 tbls olive oil or a couple laps around the pot with the olive oil jug

2 med yellow onions

2 garlic cloves

1 cup carrots, diced

1 cup celery, diced

1 cup green beans, chopped into 1" pieces

2 medium zucchini, diced

2 tsp Herbes de Provence OR 6 sprigs fresh thyme & 2 bay leaves

2 qts chicken broth OR 2 qts vegetable broth for a vegetarian version

1 28-oz can diced tomatoes

1 15-oz can cannellini beans OR any other any other can of white beans you have lying around

2 medium, red- or white-skinned potatoes, cubed

A handful of small pasta - alphabet, orzo, broken spaghetti pieces, etc.

1 tsp salt & 1/2 tsp ground pepper or to taste

Piece of parmesan cheese rind, optional

Pistou, optional:

1 cup fresh basil leaves

2 garlic cloves

1/4 cup grated, parmesan cheese

1/8 to 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/8 cup tomato paste, optional

Directions:

Before you begin, dear friend, please gather up for yourself a glass of your favorite sipping beverage, whether it be the aforementioned pinot noir or a simple cup of mint tea. (Sometimes my choice is tied directly to the noise level in our home.) Put on your favorite, calming, mood music and then, find yourself lost in the repetitive motion of your VERY SHARP knife slicing through the bounty.

Put your pot over low to medium heat to warm-up. Prep your onions to be diced. Swirl the olive oil in your pot and then, dice your onions. I find that doing these tasks in this order results in the perfect timing for heating and dicing. Now, if the thought of dicing an onion makes you literally flee the kitchen, please treat yourself to this 1 minute video How to Chop an Onion or most likely, any other you find on youtube of the same subject. I learned this technique years ago and it has made all the difference. You can apply the same principles to your other dicing needs as well.

Put your diced onion into your pot over medium-low heat. You want your onion to soften and become translucent with just a hint of caramel color but you don't want it to brown or burn. I find that this step, done correctly, is the secret to all delicious soups calling for onion. Stir occasionally. Check your heat to make sure your onions are not browning too quickly.

While your onion is sautéing, dice up your garlic, carrots and celery. Once they are prepped, pour them all into the pot, give them a stir and continue chopping your zucchini and green beans. Put them into the pot. Add the spices or fresh herbs, salt and pepper. Stir. Chop up your potato. At this point, your onions, celery and carrots should be softened and your green beans and zucchini, warmed. Pour your chicken stock and tomatoes into the pot, drop in the optional piece of parmesan cheese rind and bring it all to a boil. Once boiling, add your potatoes, bring back to a boil, then reduce heat and let simmer 20-25 minutes.

While your soup is simmering, you can decide to make the pistou or skip it. I always base my decision on how much time I have, how much energy I have remaining from my daily allotment and whether or not I have any fresh basil laying around. A nice grating of parmesan cheese over this soup does just as nicely as the pistou.

On this day, I decided to make the pistou which is just a fancy way of saying I made a type of paste that you dollop on top of your finished vegetable soup for added flavor dimension. Not having a mortal and pestle, I chopped up the basil and garlic. Then, I took the backside of a serving spoon and mashed up the two ingredients on my cutting board. I added the grated cheese to the pile and continued mashing. Then I just drizzled the olive oil on top. Stirred it all together until it was pasty and had everyone serve themselves the pistou straight from the cutting board. Why dirty another dish?

By this time, the "stomach-growling inducing" aroma filled the kitchen. I washed my blackberries. Sliced my peaches. Pulled some cheese out of the fridge to warm-up to room temperature. My buzzer went off. I added the cannellini beans and the handful of pasta and set the timer for another 10 minutes. By the time my buzzer went off again, I had laid out the bread, cheese, fruit and finagled one of the children innocently passing by the kitchen to pour a round of water for everyone. Before you knew it, we were sitting down to our meal and toasting Grandad.

Now, as with all things worth waiting for - wine, women, types of cheese, soups - this soup is delicious the first day but even better the next day and the next. As the soup ages, flavors co-mingle to give it a certain depth and complexity it lacks when it's so young. So, enjoy it for dinner tonight but appreciate the soup's deeper flavors the following days.

PS: Fish out that cheese rind after the initial cooking. I find that when left in the soup for subsequent days, the cheese flavor over-powers all of the other ingredients and therefore, tuns vegetable soup into a rather disturbing-looking cheese soup. And while you're fishing, you may want to grab the bay leaves and thyme stems. You wouldn't want to accidentally choke those down.

Yield: Enough for a family of 5, plus leftovers for lunch the next day.

Originally written: August 12, 2009

All original text and photographs copyright: Carrie Minns 2009