The Times Between

The little village looked as if it had grown up naturally, part of the surrounding forest.  The villagers loved their home, and nurtured it carefully and tenderly, aware of the treasure they possessed.  Babies were born, laughter rang through the quiet village streets, little events brought changes...and life moved on.  The children grew and changed.  The sun shone, rain fell, winds blew, heralding the arrival of each new season.

Then one dark, chilly morning, the villagers sensed an ominous presence in the air.  A great heavy mass of black clouds hung low, bizarre lightning flickered, and the winds howled.  Unfamiliar with anything but the gentle rains that came and brought life, the villagers huddled together, frightened.  They ran for shelter, terrifed beyond anything they had ever experienced.  The storm ripped and tore, moments felt like hours...every window shattered, every tree bent and bruised, torrents of angry water flowed through the streets.

Just as quickly as it had come, the storm dissipated.  Ribbons of blue sky appeared, mocking the darkness that had covered the sky so completely moments before.  The sun emerged, washed clean, and shone insolently over the wreckage of the village.

Dazed, the villagers began to appear, many shaking their heads in confusion.  Children raised their hands to the sunlight, recovering their smiles and giggles quickly - rebounding absurdly fast as children do.  Adults were slower to appreciate the warmth that belied the devastation that lay in front of them.

A meeting of the elders that night brought about plans to prepare for another storm such as the one that took the village so completely by surprise.  One man was appointed to watch the skies from a nearby hill, charged with alerting the village should those black clouds ever appear again on the horizon.  A group of women were put in charge of gathering up children and animals if the alarm sounded.  Every person was given a job, and each was determined to do that job, and protect themselves from future dangers.

In time, the alarm bell sounded.  Panic set in, but this time the village was prepared.  Shutters clamped shut, everyone found a safe place...the winds howled, the very foundations shook.  Trees were uprooted, stones hurled through the air as if thrown by a malevolent giant.  The village withstood the blows, but still some were injured.  Bodies were bruised and broken.  Homes destroyed. 

All the preparation...the plans, the safeguards... Nothing could stop the storms.  The damage was swift and sure.  The adults shook their heads in sorrow.  Their world was forever changed.  Even when the sun came out, as the sun always does, the elders eyed it distrustfully.  When the children danced and laughed in the golden rays slanting through the forest trees, their mothers worried just a little more than they did before.  What if the sky lowered blackly and the winds began to scream again?

Even when the sun hung brightly in an impossibly blue sky, the signs of the storms were ever present.  Foundations were weakened.  Trees lay dead on the forest floor.  Instead of windows letting in the light, there were heavy shutters, keeping the houses dark. 

In the Between Times - and there were many - the villagers tried their best to enjoy the peace and harmony.  But the memories of the Storms were intensely real and never quite left their consciousness.  And life, though pleasant at times, was never the same again.

Watch this space...

After a lengthy absence, I have plans in the works for updating my blog.  In part, I will be adding a section that highlights autism "tools" that I've found or created to help Stephen with certain situations over the years.

I'm still trying to cook good food, at least insofar as my budget allows, so there will probably be some foodie stuff sprinkled around too...

I'm posting this simply to try to spur myself on - both my husband and my very dear friend M have encouraged me to share some of my "inspirations" for trying to help my baby boy navigate a world that must so often seem foreign to him.  So, I will.  Maybe something I've done will help someone else who's struggling.

So...in short...stay tuned!

Mirage

After an especially trying weekend, I sought what I refer to in my head as my “haven” –  propping myself up against pillows on my bed, in the bedroom farthest from the TV, the living room, the kitchen, and the noise Stephen generates constantly.  But, he found me, flopping onto the bed cross-wise, one babyish hand finding my foot and patting it in that instinctively sweet way of his.

He’s stretched out, jabbering away, his t-shirt too short (as most of them are now), and I can see the jagged pink stretch marks on his belly…ugly reminders of his poor diet, his huge pharmaceutically-induced appetite, his inability to understand limits.  Autism, the wild beast that invaded our lives a decade ago, persists in trying to tear us apart, and it has left its mark on my son’s skin as it tries to claw its way out.  This evil, wrong presence – a million miles away from the happy, feel-good kind of autism that has parents lauding their child’s “differences” and appreciating their “uniqueness” – has terrorized my family, and there’s no weapon that can be used to defend us.

We have bound ourselves together to fight it, but inch by inch it creeps in.  We are trapped, isolated, a bizarre island in a sea of unhappiness, and it hurts.  It’s lonely.  It’s impossible to understand unless you live a similar life, and there just aren’t many people who do. 

At this very moment, as I type, Stephen is back on the bed, his round, soft cheek resting against my arm.  He giggles.  “Band-itch,” he says.  I am silent, thinking.  “Band-itch, peeze.”  I have no idea what he’s saying.  My heart breaks for a child who can walk and eat and sleep, and in most other ways is unable to conduct his life as a human being…trying to talk, staring earnestly into his mother’s eyes as he sweetly says, again, “Band-itch, peeze.”  As I shrug and say, “Baby, I don’t know…” he once again gives up, not able to communicate, and so he retreats back into his mind, jabbering about Thomas or Percy or whatever.  I got lucky this time.  So many times this kind of non-communication results in screaming fits.  What a wilderness of confusion his brain must be.  It shatters me to imagine his bewilderment with the world.  I’ve been a soggy, crying mess over the last 12 hours.  Two more tears trace paths down my face, and Stephen reaches out a finger to catch a drop off my chin, and he wonderingly looks at it, then wipes his hand on his shirt.

The future scares me.  Stephen’s puberty looms like another monster, an unknown enemy lying in wait.  Our older son starts high school in a week – how is he doing, really?  He told his dad last night that “this stuff” does get to him, but he doesn’t show it.  He just goes downstairs and pounds on his drums.  Have I failed him?  Is he destined to run far from this home that I’ve tried in vain to make tolerable or even happy at times, taking memories of chaos and noise and pain?  It is more than I can bear.

For years, I have worn a silver band engraved with “HOPE” on my right hand.  I bought it at the first autism conference David and I attended.  Those snake oil salesmen/vendors are nothing if not purveyors of hope, mainly of the false variety.  Regardless, I have always gained a miniscule particle of strength when I’d glance at the ring on my finger.

Today I took that ring off.  Right now it hurts more than it helps, because hope seems elusive, mocking me as it swoops in only to disappear when I reach for it.  Oh, there are times when my eternal, cockeyed optimistic soul believes that happiness is possible: the scent of newly mown grass that transports me to childhood, Stephen’s wild dancing and laughing moments, Kerry’s enthusiasm over music, David’s constant ability to make me laugh till I cry, a perfect sentence in a book I love…

But my well of hope has run dry, for now.  I’ll find a way to replenish it, but right now it’s empty.  I’m afraid, I’m discouraged, I’m out of ideas.

Years ago Kerry gave me a necklace that has a charm on it: “#1 Mom.”  He honored me by considering me a great mom, but I have a hard time convincing myself of it during dark periods, like now.  Today I put my hope ring on that chain, and hung them both back on a hook.  In sight, not packed away, but not to be worn…not while the beast snarls at the door.  I’ll keep what’s precious out of harm’s way, with the vestiges of stubborn endurance I have left.  We may be hanging on by a thread, but in my heart I believe the thread is made of something just strong enough to withstand the attack.

For Sissie

My sweet, loving, laughing aunt Joyce (“Sissie” to me and to many) died quite unexpectedly last night after a brief illness.  I was there, in the room, with a host of family members.  It was a heartrending yet precious thing to be there as Sissie quietly left this life.

I will miss her every day.

Even though I didn’t get to see her as often as I’d have liked, I did talk to her frequently, just to say hi.  She was always my consultant when I had a sticky cooking issue or question.  I’d call her up, tell her what was going on, and she always knew what to do, how to fix it.

She has been a constant fixture throughout my life.  She worked at the same university my mom did, so childhood summer days spent “working” with my mom always involved a trek across campus to visit Sissie.  I always felt so independent on those walks, and so comfortable visiting her office.  Sissie worked in the housing office of the university – she was famous amongst a certain group of “problem children” who were never happy with their dorm room assignments.  She ruled with an iron fist, and rightly so!  When David and I first began dating, he went with me to a cousin’s wedding.  It was his first time to meet many of my extended family.  He saw Sissie from a distance, stopped short and said…”Wait…she is your AUNT????”  Turns out he had met Sissie already, albeit in a very different context.  That always made Sissie smile when she would remember it in later years.  She knew David on sight, and immediately remembered who he had roomed with, in what dorm, and what trouble he and his roommates were. 

Above all, Sissie loved her family.  Her son, her daughter, her grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, her brothers and sisters, and all of us nieces and nephews. She loved unpretentiously and fully.  She adored my sons, always remembered their birthdays…Kerry and Stephen’s school pictures had a place of honor on her shelf, right alongside the photos of her grandkids and great-grandkids. 

She was generous with her resources in every possibly way. 

Sissie was the quintessential wonderful Southern cook.  Her turkey and dressing would’ve won any contest, and she made pans of it every Thanksgiving to share with anyone who just couldn’t get the knack she had of making that delicious dish (ahem).  Another specialty of hers was tiny, bite-sized lemon tarts – creamy filling inside homemade pastry tarts.  These always showed up at Christmas, and I have very fond memories of the HUNDREDS of tarts Sissie made for my wedding reception years ago.  I can picture her now in her kitchen: barefoot, hair a bit disheveled from the steaming pots on the stove, singing to herself…

Women across the centuries have been the lifeblood of the home, the caretaker, the nurse, the comforter, the provider of meals.  Today, and every day that I endeavor to become a more loving mother, daughter, cousin…every day that I look for the fun in life, that I try to laugh a little more…with every meal that I put together in my kitchen…I honor a most precious Southern lady who succeeded in these ways and countless others..

Mama and Dooley and all of your family miss you.  I love you always, Sis.

Earth Fare, Desserts, and the Magic Chicken

I discovered that an Earth Fare store was opening in our area by accident.  I was looking up retailers for the amazing, wonderful Alabama's Organic Milk (buy it if you can find it…you will never switch back) and saw “Earth Fare – Hoover…coming soon.”  I had just seen this store mentioned on the 100 Days of Real Food blog and had filed it under “stores that we don’t have around here,” like Trader Joe’s.  So you can imagine my happiness to find an Earth Fare that opened May 30 in Hoover.  I joined their buyer’s club (free) and was able to print a coupon for a free whole chicken and a pint of fresh blueberries, to use if I spent at least $15.  That wasn’t hard to do, and I walked out of the store having spent about $60 but with a lot of good deals on things I would’ve bought anyway – bulk demerara sugar, organic roma tomatoes, my beloved Alabama milk, some Earth Fare brand organic ketchup, and quite a few other staples - plus a fresh chicken and some berries.  Free!

I vaguely recall trying to cook a whole chicken once, in our tiny apartment kitchen, and feeling totally overwhelmed with the task at hand.  So I was a bit nervous but had already decided to make the most of the freebie and cook it in a way that went right along with my real food commitment.  I used my slow cooker to make The Best Whole Chicken in a Crockpot.  I got it all set up before going out to run errands last week, and when I got home, the house smelled wonderful.  The chicken turned out perfect, and we had the larger breast meat portions that I “carved” (it’s a learning process) for dinner that night, the pan juices spooned over each slice.  I also made some quinoa with zucchini and artichoke hearts to go alongside.  So, that’s meal #1 from my Earth Fare free chicken.

I chopped up the chicken that we didn’t eat that I had “carved” (ahem) from the bird, and put it in the freezer to use for chicken enchiladas later this week.  So, there’s meal #2.

That night, I took the remaining…pieces…of the chicken – the bones and such – and put them and the onions that had cooked with the chicken back into the Crockpot.  I added a couple more onions, about 3 organic carrots, the rest of a package of celery, including the leaves, that I had in the refrigerator, one sprig each of my basil and rosemary plants growing on the deck, and covered all of that with water.

I turned the Crockpot on low and let it cook all night – almost 8 hours.

The gorgeous, rich scent literally woke me up the next morning…

Homemade chicken stock!  Nearly effortless and so rich and golden you wouldn’t believe it.

I got this idea from the 100 Days blog – and I didn’t have an appreciation for how simple it would be, and how gratifying it was to make homemade stock.

I got 9 cups of stock, total – packed up in 1 or 2 cup portions and put in the freezer.  Tonight we had vegetable soup made with the broth, and chicken enchiladas made from the rest of the chicken.

After I strained out the stock and removed the bones, I was left with very tasty vegetables and little bits of chicken.  I couldn’t just throw that out.  So, I chopped the veggies up in the food processor, added some water to a pot, and let it simmer.  I cooked some barley in another pot and added that.  Bingo.  Chicken barley vegetable soup that has supplied 4 lunches.  Meal #3.

So due to one free chicken, I got 3 meals (at least) and 9 cups of chicken stock for future recipes.  Not bad.

In the last week I’ve also made a bread pudding with whiskey sauce that was simply glorious.  It came from my old standby Betty Crocker cookbook, but I used whole grain raisin bread, real butter, organic eggs and cream, pure cane sugar and organic butter with the Jack Daniels for the sauce…and let me tell you that a tiny little demitasse-type dish of this pudding with a healthy dollop of whiskey sauce was just gorgeous and such a rich experience.  Sooooo much better than most desserts I’ve thrown together.  Again, there was a ritualistic aspect to serving these little portions, full of rich flavor and so satisfying.

I also made David a birthday cake with whole wheat flour, used coconut oil in place of vegetable oil, and made real chocolate buttercream frosting.  It was a huge hit – no one would’ve guessed it had wheat flour.  While I don’t plan on providing sweet desserts like this all the time, it was a delicious birthday cake, and it had none of the bad crap you get from boxed mixes and those little cans of frosting.  The cake recipe is here:  Whole Wheat Chocolate Cake and the icing one is here: Ghiradelli Buttercream.

I have lots more to share but I’ll stop there for now.  Happy eating.

Chilton County Peaches

My Earth Fare post is forthcoming…in the meantime:

Yesterday afternoon I had to run an errand, and on my way home I passed a little produce market that I’ve seen a hundred times.  I noticed a sign that wouldn’t have caught my attention 2 months ago.  Unless you’re a local Alabamian, this won’t mean anything to you – but the sign said “Chilton County Peaches.”  My car turned in to the parking lot as if under a spell and I made my way to the peaches sitting in their little baskets, soaking up the heat of the afternoon…the scent hanging in the air was sublime and I spent a lovely 5 minutes choosing just the right peaches.  The lady at the register sorted through them and declared two of them “too soft” and went to the back to get two better ones.  I love buying from small businesses like this.  Imagine caring about your customers enough to make sure that they are getting the best you have to offer.

When I got home, I added the peaches to my now-overflowing wooden fruit bowl that sits on the corner of the kitchen counter…there are onions hanging in a net bag, garlic and tomatoes, apples, bananas…  I couldn’t resist trying a peach, even though it was nearly suppertime.  I stood at my sink, and took a bite of the best tasting piece of fruit I’ve had lately.  I unashamedly licked my fingers, not wanting to miss even a tiny taste.  I started thinking about writing about eating that peach…and just as quickly I thought, “Who wants to read about you standing over the sink eating a peach?”  But that’s the thing, isn’t it?  I write because I have to write.  I love writing about what I’m doing, what I’m discovering, about the fact that I haven’t had a single Double Stuf Oreo in a month…and I don’t miss them.  Really!  Most of all, though, I feel like I’m ME when I write.  I honor my passions, my interests…the things I value when I take the time to write them down.

So, this morning, dear reader, I had the most delectable breakfast.  I sliced up a peach, poured a couple of tablespoons of organic cream into another bowl and frothed it up a bit with a fork, then…THEN, I drizzled that slightly thickened cream over the peach slices, the cream mingling with the peach juice.  I took a bite and the taste, the scent, the texture was unlike anything I’ve ever had.  I’ve always heard the phrase “peaches and cream” but never thought about actually eating it.  The velvety cream wrapped around those bright saffron slices of peach…it was spectacularly good.

This is a perfect example of how learning to eat real food has changed my life.  A month or so ago, I would’ve grabbed a Toaster Strudel or Pop-Tart, gulped it down with a huge glass of milk, barely tasting any of it.  Now?  Picking out peaches, taking them home, choosing one from my bowl, slicing it, preparing the cream…the whole process felt like a ritual, an homage to the amazing foods that are out there that I overlooked for so long.

Already, the thought of one of those “breakfast pastries” makes my stomach churn.  I can’t fully explain to you what a difference this new philosophy is making, not to mention that while I’m not counting calories, I’m willing to bet that this decadent breakfast would win out health-wise over any of that junk I used to put in my body.  To date, I’ve lost a little over 14 pounds eating cream and whole milk and rich cheese and real butter and fresh local produce.  I feel like I’m getting away with murder!

I hope you can enjoy some lazy summer mornings, delicious meals, and for the lucky few that can get them, some Chilton County peaches.

Burgers, Veggie Lasagna, and A Change of Appetite…

Last week I found a one pound package of grass fed beef on sale.  It was frozen, so I popped it in my deep freezer to save it for whatever idea might come up.  Since I was off work Monday for Memorial Day, I thought I’d fulfill my duty as an American and cook burgers.  I’ve been trying to use grass fed beef for recipes for several years now – not always successfully, but more often than not.

However…

In the past, to make the burgers extra yummy and flavorful, I’d pull out a packet of that staple of the Deep South cook – good old Lipton Onion Soup Mix.  One packet, a quarter cup of water, and 2 pounds of ground beef, and you’ve got yourself a tasty burger.



“Five Classic Recipes…Right on the Box” !

And then, inside the box: Onions, salt, corn starch, sugar, corn syrup solids, caramel color, hydrolyzed soy protein, partially hydrogenated soybean oil, yeast extract, monosodium glutamate, natural flavors, disodium inosinate and disodium guanylate.

Lots of winners there, including partially hydrogenated oil and MSG.

My mission was to concoct a “real food” equivalent to the soup mix.  I studied recipes and found that most of the “make your own mix” recipes included beef bouillon granules – try finding healthy “granules” of anything. I did find one recipe that was merely a mixture of spices, all of which I already owned except for one, so I bought some celery seed and went that route.  I used this version: Homemade Onion Soup Mix.  It looked really nice in the bowl – seeing exactly what I was going to be putting into our food made me feel good about what I’m doing.

Starting at 12 o’clock and working counterclockwise:

• parsley
• onion powder
• celery seed
• pepper
• garlic powder
• all surrounding the onion flakes

Isn’t that kind of pretty?  I thought so.  This recipe makes enough mix for 2 lbs. of beef.  Since I was only using 1 lb. I measured out half the spices – roughly 2 tablespoons.  I put the other 2 T. into a snack sized ziplock and will pull it out the next time we want burgers.

I quickly defrosted the beef (not in the microwave, but by putting the unopened package in a ziplock and running cold water over it and letting it sit in a bowl in the sink…change the water every 30 minutes and soon the meat will defrost evenly) and put it in a bowl.  I added my homemade spice mixture, one tablespoon of bread crumbs, and to add a little moisture, I put in about 1/3 c. beef stock.  I found this organic one on sale for $2.99 at Publix and will use the rest to cook some quinoa this week.  (Emeril’s brand.  I know.  I had to resist yelling “Bam!” every time I poured in stock.)


Oh, and I used a Sharpie to give myself a deadline for using the stock.   I need all the help I can get remembering things.

I mixed everything gently with a fork, just till it all came together, then cooked the burgers on my griddle pan.  I’ve been shying away from using my George Foreman grill lately – with all of the liquids/fats draining away, the meat sometimes ended up really dry.

The occasional pan-fried burger made from high quality beef isn’t going to hurt us, I figure.  I cooked them carefully, tilted the pan toward the end of cooking to let excess liquids drain, and those burgers turned out tender, juicy, and really flavorful.  We didn’t miss the Lipton soup mix, that’s for sure.  I’m sure these burgers would turn out great on the grill, if you enjoy cooking out.

Another dish that got a bit of a makeover recently – lasagna.  I’ve always done a pretty traditional meat/cheese/sauce/pasta combination.  I wanted to experiment with a meatless version.  I searched and looked at a lot of veggie lasagna recipes, and finally settled on this one: Vegetarian Lasagna.  If you click, you’ll see it has a “surprise” ingredient.  If you’re not a tofu fan (now stop…I’m not becoming a total hippie granola bar) then….keep reading.  The only time I’ve ever eaten tofu was in sweet and sour soup – thin little strips, no big deal.  The thought of a big block of the stuff in my lasagna, though?  I was less than enthused.  But I persevered.  I love roasted red peppers, so that ingredient won me over, and of course, those add a lot of flavor to this dish – and the tofu is crumbled and kneaded into the ricotta cheese mixture.  It gives it some thickness and some richness, and you’d never even know it was there.  I made up the whole amount but split it into two pans, one of which I popped into the freezer for a busy weeknight meal.  The lasagna was dense but not dry, and full of flavor.  Both Kerry and David enjoyed it and didn’t miss the meat at all.  Definitely worth a try if you like Italian food.

So, over the last couple of weeks, I have successfully added more vegetables to our meals, while simultaneously reducing the amount of red meat we’ve been eating.  We’re eating more fish as well.  I have found that, for the most part, meat doesn’t even sound that good to me.  Today we celebrated my dad’s 82nd birthday at Cracker Barrel, and I scoured the menu for whatever sounded good.  With my new way of eating, I planned to have a real “special occasion” meal if I wanted to – fried chicken or chicken ‘n dumplings or whatever I wanted…but I didn’t want any of those things.  I finally settled on a vegetable plate and took my time with the fresh corn, the okra, and the pinto beans.  The others at the table were eating dessert and I was still finishing my food.  I was so full I couldn’t even touch my cornbread or hashbrown casserole.  I find myself craving cool, light foods these days, more often than not.  Lunch has become a lighter meal – maybe a few good crackers, some creamy havarti or brie, and some fruit.  I recently bought some artichoke hearts, for pete’s sake.  What’s more, I even ATE AND ENJOYED THEM instead of leaving them in the pantry for years.  Who am I?!??!!!

Finally, while losing weight was not and is not my primary objective here, I couldn’t help noticing the difference in my face when I look in the mirror, and the loose-fitting clothing that used to be tight.  So, I stepped on the scale a few days ago.  From my highest point since pregnancy, I have lost twelve and a half pounds so far.

Not bad.  And I am eating the most delicious foods I’ve had in my life!  This is absolutely a joy and an adventure, and I’m so grateful to have such wonderful foods to choose from…  So, stay tuned, and enjoy your food!

Next time, I’ll be posting about my inaugural trip to our new Earth Fare store, as well as a really simple but delicious and elegant dessert I made recently.  A true Southern classic!

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