A smattering of thoughts

As I wrote my title, I wondered almost immediately,"Is 'smattering' really, honestly, truly a word??" And then I decided that due to the fact that I am recovering from the flu, I simply do not care enough to make an effort to grab my 25 lb., ancient dictionary (seriously, folks; it's from the 1940's) and embark upon a quest to discover the validity of the oh-so-effective word, "SMATTERING". The bottom line: I like it. So it's going to stay. The word "smattering", that is. And my ancient dictionary. Oh, never mind...

Right now...

1) I am desperately praying that my computer will properly upload my 174 photos, most of which are our vacation photos from August. I have making sad, fruitless attempts all week to accomplish this seemingly simple task; and yet, something always seems to go wrong at the end of the "importing" process. And it's making my armpits itch really bad, which is what happens when I get really nervous or surprised. So far, we are on photo #29 of 174 photos. May the Lord preserve my sanity, patience, and ever-so-itchy armpits.
2) I have been cooking and baking up a storm, and quite victoriously, I might add! Here are my most recent victories:
http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2010/01/homemade-chicken-and-noodles/
One itty-bitty suggestion: use the chicken base. The recipe says it's optional, but I had to triple the salt to get the taste I was looking for, and I don't think I would have had to do that if I had been functioning as an intelligent human being and used the chicken base. Oh, how I do so long to function as an intelligent human being these days...but I digress. Here's another:
http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2010/08/curried-chicken-pasta-salad/
This is so good I could scream. No, really. It's that good. I ended up adding a bit more sugar to the curry dressing- I like it a little on the sweet side. I must warn you, though: this recipe makes a TREMENDOUS amount of salad. I have spent the last week pawning off 2-cup ziploc containers to three different friends of mine, and I STILL had enough for 3 lunches for little ol' me. Now that's ALOT of Curried Chicken Pasta Salad.
And now for some dessert...

http://www.bonappetit.com/recipes/2010/03/british_flapjacks

Really, this is my favorite discovery of all. I have already written of my great admiration for Molly Wizenberg, and this recipe is one of her many delightful and terribly yummy recipes. We could be friends. I just know it. These "cookies" have the teeniest hint of a slightly burnt caramel taste, somewhat akin to Creme Brulee (sorry. Too lazy to use the proper accent marks.). Another bonus: these are SO incredibly quick and easy to make. I mean, like the speed of light quick. Almost. Nearly. Well, I make these with my two older boys (3 and 2 yo), so I think that qualifies as a quick and easy recipe.
You may notice that the first two recipes I have posted are from none other than Ree Drummond, aka The Pioneer Woman. I have several things to say about Ree:

1) If you have not heard of The Pioneer Woman, please crawl out from under your rock and go to www.thepioneerwoman.com. Now. Okay? Okay. She is just wonderful. Her recipes are so very, very good and her blog is outstanding. I read it every day, and that is no exaggeration. She makes me laugh, smile, and her recipes fill my tummy with yummy food. What more could a mother of three children(all under the age of 4) possibly want?

And there you have my smattering of thoughts. Here's an update on my photo upload situation: It's official. I'm going to have a brawl with my computer. So while I wrestle around with said computer, why don't you go whip up yourself a delectable batch of flapjacks? You won't be sorry.

Variation on a Theme of "It's been one of those days".

It's been one of those days.

I went to bed at a positively ridiculously late hour. Bad Mary. Bad Momma. BAD MOMMA. *slaps own wrist*

I woke up to a Dark, Dreary, Rainy day. Every once in a while, I love a good Dark, Dreary, and Rainy day. But not today. Definitely not today. On the bright side, my perfect infant slept in. Again. Like I said, he's perfect. For now.

David and Daniel (aka Terror and Mischief and also the Loves of My Life) started roughhousing at about 6:19 am. This is normal.

I drank two cups of tea in a one-hour span of time. It was good and necessary.

We all sat around like blobs for most of the morning. We let the boys outside for about 20 minutes before lunch because they were on the verge of spontaneous combustion, and I always have a sense about these types of things.

The elder "punched" (his own words) the younger with a stick.

Lunch was a mass conglomeration of confused leftovers. And yes; leftovers can be confused. Very confused. Steve had leftover macaroni and hamburger casserole. I had a turkey sandwich and corn on the cob. The boys had hotdogs and nectarines. Can you feel the confusion? I can.

At about 12:30 pm, I was still in my pajamas. Steve left to attend a surprise party for one of our friends. I was a bad momma and put on "Lady and The Tramp" for David so I could take a shower and get out of my smelly pj's. Which, to everyone's relief, I did.

After naptime (which for David means rolling around on the floor and couches and whining,'I'm so tired, Mommy' and then I respond,'Well, buddy, why don't you lie down on the couch or Mommy and Daddy's bed?' to which David responds,'NOOOOOO!!!') the boys and I set off for the aforementioned surprise party. We then proceeded to enter into a completely different dimension; one of happy, joyous, well-behaved children, cooing babies, good adult conversation, and an amazing pizza with fresh basil and tomatoes. I have to find the portal for this dimension again! If you find it, please let me know. Thanks.

We went home. The portal slammed shut with a vengeance, and the boys melted into a screaming, sobbing mess all over my dirty kitchen floor. Early baths. Early bedtime.

It was 7:00 pm. The dishwasher was finally emptied. It only took me 12 hours! I'm so proud of myself!

Today is not a day for writing about fine food. I just had Burger King for dinner with a Raspberry Ginger Ale, and now I plan on feeding my perfect infant and plopping my sorry frame into bed. I am tired. Deliciously tired. And yes; I think one can feel "deliciously tired".

So there. This has been a Variation on a Theme of "It's been one of those Days." I am reminded that I am so very, very human. on days like today. Early bed time for this momma. And an early walk to Starbucks tomorrow. :)

A triumph!

A triumph! A triumph! An absolute triumph! Okay, I'll stop babbling like a complete idiot and expound upon this great triumph of mine. My triumph...chocolate peanut butter pie. Oh yes. Oh baby. After the Tale of a Most Sad Curry, I was tired of trying new things on the cooking front and decided it was time to blow my own mind with my baking skills. I must pause here for a brief moment. I love to bake. I love it so very much. Baking is a science; a sure thing in a most unsure world! In fact, I'm going to make yogurt-cinnamon muffins as soon as I finish blabbing about my peanut-butter engulfed triumph. But I digress! Yes, I would rather bake than cook almost any day, but because I do not wish to gain 50 pounds a month, I refrain (just barely) and try to bake only once a week. Sigh. Sigh again. ANYWAY...

Once upon a time, my friend Rachel was hosting a ladies' get-together at her home, and I volunteered to bring a dessert. It is not often that I get a chance to make a super-crazy-fancy-awesome dessert, because Steve doesn't care for rich baked goods. His yearly birthday request? Rice Krispie Treats. DON'T even get me started...my baking talent just withers away, year after year...so when I get an opportunity to make a dessert or an appetizer; well, you KNOW I'm going for that dessert option! SO I wrestled with my decision on what exactly to make. Pistachio layer cake? Meh. Peach tart? Maybe. AND THEN...it hit me. A cold pie. A 1950's diner style icebox pie!! YES! It's been a scorcher of a summer after all, so something nice and cool would fit the bill nicely. And so I purchased and assembled the ingredients, and experienced a most miraculous time warp in that I was able to prepare the crust BEFORE we went to church, along with making something edible in the ol' crockpot and even getting out of the door on time. Like I said, a most miraculous time warp. All I had to do was make the filling when I got home, and you know what? It was as easy as pie. (Sorry. I simply could not resist). The only part that made me want to temporarily expire was whipping the heavy cream by hand before folding it into the peanut butter filling. I always approach whipping things by hand with the greatest of gusto, and I start whipping with the utmost enthusiasm. 2 minutes into it, I began to get a little cranky. 5 minutes into it, I am wishing to temporarily expire. Then chemistry takes over, and VIOLA!! I have a gorgeous bowl of hand-whipped cream, and once again, I love my life. I proceeded to gently, oh so gently, coax the smooth, rich, toffee-colored decadence into the cooled pie crust and smooth it until it was worthy of a cover shot for Martha Stewart Living. Or so I'd like to imagine! I carefully put the pie in the freezer, and that was that! SO easy. And the flavor!! SO incredibly rich and creamy, and not at all overly sweet. It was a perfect balance of sweet and savory, and had a delicious, peanutty, slightly salty taste. But I must warn you. This pie should come with a "Parental Advisory- DO NOT OVERINDULGE" label. Because, my dear friends, that is exactly what I did, and I was not a very happy camper that night. So rich, so very rich...be careful. Be very careful. Here's the link:

http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/chocolate-peanut-butter-pie

Despite my slightly unhappy ending with this pie, I am already dreaming of making it and indulging in it again...just not overindulging. Moral: A change of pace is good, and yes; you CAN have too much of a good thing. :) Happy baking!

On Sundays and a most sad Vegetable Curry

Today is one of those days when I feel as though everything is going in fast motion, and I am just a sad little jumble of atoms and molecules, hanging on for dear life, and screaming, "WHOA, THERE!!! HANG ON A SECOND, PEOPLE!!!" Why I feel this way; I really can't say. I'm going to chalk it up to the fact that it's Sunday, and Sunday has this magical way of flying away from me at an incredibly high rate of speed. Sundays used to be a most wonderful day for me. Wake up, get ready for church, have a leisurely breakfast with my Steve-O, which almost always consisted of scrambled eggs with the teensiest amount of cheddar cheese snuck in (Steve hates cheese in his eggs, but I can't eat scrambled eggs without it- THANKS, DAD.), brew myself a cup of tea, most likely Plantation Mint or Constant Comment (Hey- I get adventurous with my tea in the afternoon, so no rude comments about my uninspired choices for my morning fix. I need stability in the morning, not some fly-by-night troubadour who's going to leave me barefoot and pregnant- hypothetically speaking, of course), toast (dry for Steve, cream cheese and raspberry jam for me), and just enjoy some major quality time in our sweet little haven of an apartment, and later on, our lovely home. Ahhh. Yes. Those were the days. We'd stroll out to the car, never in a hurry or rushed in the slightest. We'd drive to church and arrive with at least ten minutes to spare. We'd sit in the pew and look the through the bulletin together, and comment to each other on various things we thought were worth commenting on. Hymns, sermon, then BOOM, off to our weekly Sunday lunch of Chipotle. Let me just stop here for a moment. I miss those weekly Sunday lunches at Chipotle more than I could even begin to express. We were so very spoiled back then. Then we'd drive home, all full of chatter. AND THEN...The Weekly Sunday Afternoon Nap. Hmm. Wait a minute. I'm not so sure now whether I miss the weekly Chipotle more or the Nap. Oh, well. So, yes; my Sundays used to be the highlight of my week. AND THEN...*fully diminished seventh chord ensues* something happened. Something miraculous. Something wonderful. Something terrifying. Something glorious. Something stressful. Something life-changing. Yep. You guessed it. We became PARENTS!! Yes. We have the great privilege of being parents to three marvelous and delightful boys, and it has been a learning experience, to say the VERY least. Although I loved being a new mommy, and I was (and still am) madly in love with my first-born son, the shift in the Sunday Dynamic was almost more than I could bear for a while. First, there was no sleeping in. EVER. I now have completely embraced this fact of my life as a mother; this cold, hard, fact that I will not sleep in for the next 25 years, and the world will somehow magically not end because Mary Johnson didn't catch a few extra zzzz's. 'I'll sleep when I'm dead' has become my motto, but it hasn't always been this way for me. Besides the sleep factor, there was the whole "packing for baby" issue. How on earth could one tiny being encompass such a extraordinary need for such a ridiculous amount of...of...STUFF????? Even if I packed the diaper bag the night before, I still seemed to have to throw in about 34 extra things before we could leave for church. Or anywhere, for that matter. And another thing...why is a diaper bag called a "diaper bag" when diapers take up the smallest percentage of space in said diaper bag?? This is something I will most likely never understand. SO...by the time I nursed David at 6:00 am, played with him for a little while, laid him down for his early morning nap at 7:00, made a sad attempt at beautifying myself for the day, made ANOTHER sad attempt at making something in the crockpot that wouldn't taste like a giant orb of nothingness, nursed David at 9:00, left for church at 10:00 (if we were lucky), got ourselves situated in our usual pew, left the service halfway through to nurse again, stumble back into the service in time to sing the final hymn, gather all of our artillery and head back to the van, drove home with scant conversation, stumbled into the house for a stodgy glob of what were hoping was sustenance of some sort *pant pant pant* , I was exhausted. Beyond exhausted. SO exhausted. I would sometimes lay on the couch and marvel at how exhausted I was- I didn't know it was possible to be so exhausted and not die from it!! So naturally, my Sunday experience began to sour, and pretty quickly, I might add. I began...to loathe Sundays. Yes. I know. How horrible is that? Nevertheless, Sundays were no longer the idyllic island of relaxation that they used to be, and I had some massive adjusting to do. So adjust I did. The days of weekly visits to Chipotle were over, for financial and practical reasons. Okay. Fine. So what?? That's what a crockpot is for, right? And while we're talking about crockpots, let me just say this: I am quite sure Crockpots were invented for Sundays. For lunch after church, to be precise. Okay, now that I've got that off my chest, back to Sundays. Thus began a long couple of years of experimenting with my crockpot to make a lunch that didn't taste like a giant orb of nothingness. It was NOT easy, my friends. But eventually, after much trial and error (mostly error), I garnered a small handful of what we now refer to as "Regulars"; crockpot dishes that my crew and myself have deemed worthy to be consumed on a once-a-month basis. And our top favorite "Regular" is a little something called "Lean Cowboy Beans", or, as I tell the boys, "Sweet Beans". "Sweet Beans" are a triumph each and every time. Super-comfort food, whether you need to be comforted or not!! And even if you don't think you need comforting, once you taste these yummy little beanies, you will realize how desperately you are in need of comfort, and you'll tuck those bad boys in like there's no tomorrow. Perhaps I exaggerate slightly. Perhaps not! At any rate, here's the recipe and my usual useless comments to go along with it:

Lean Cowboy Beans adapted from "Fix it And Forget It Lightly"

1 lb. ground turkey
16 oz. can baked beans, undrained
16 oz. can kidney beans, rinsed and drained
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
1/2 c. brown sugar
1 c. ketchup
2 tblsp. dry mustard
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cider vinegar

1) Brown meat.
2) Combine all ingredients in a crockpot sprayed with nonstick cooking spray.
3) Cover; cook on high for 1-2 hours.

AND THAT'S IT!!!!!!

Now isn't that easy?? I'm usually not much of a "can of this, can of that" gal, but this is indispensible to our Sunday survival, and it certainly couldn't hurt to give this a try. I have made a few changes from the original recipe, which I found to be a bit too sweet. SO I simply added a bit less sugar and cider vinegar (shhhhh...don't tell Steve!!!). So there you have it. A tried-and-true crockpot recipe that's actually healthy and doesn't taste like a giant orb of nothingness. If this won't save your Sundays, well, then nothing will. And now...

SPEAKING OF GIANT ORBS OF NOTHINGNESS...

I shall now commence with a tale of a Most Sad Curry. As I mentioned on my previous post, I was going to attempt a Vegetable and Chickpea curry in my crockpot. So I did. I will cut to the chase. IT WAS AWFUL. I won't bother devoting a great deal of space to this sad tale, since it really was terrible, but yes. It was the epitome of a giant orb of nothingness, and after a few bites, we told the boys to stop eating, and then Steve went out and got a pizza. It was quite strange taking a bite of food, and yet not really tasting anything except a starchy aftertaste. YUCK. The only positive thing I can say about it is that is was a delightful little jumble of colorful veggies BEFORE it started cooking down. And then it crashed. And burned. And that's all I have to say about that.

What is the point of this massive rambling of Sundays, crockpots, exhaustion, and Sad Currys?? I'm actually not quite sure, other than this: Life is full of massive adjustments. Embrace them as you would an adventure, and don't be afraid to acquire new skills. Like making some WICKED good beans in your most-likely-majorly-underused-and-darkhorse-of-a crockpot!! Go forth... and give the darkhorse a try. :)

Back in The Saddle Again...

I'm back!! I had a beautiful baby boy, and we named him Lucas Nathan. Lucas because, well, I just like the name Lucas, and Nathan for my older (and only) brother. He is a wonderful, marvelous baby (but aren't they all??), and I am once again hopelessly and irrevocably in love. Ahhhh. :) The purpose of this particular blog entry is simply to get back into the mode of blogging, so forgive me as I stray from my usual verbose format and simply make a list of what shall be known as "Randoms". And now, ladies and gentlemen (you know who you are), here are 17 random thoughts that have been occupying my cranial space for the last couple of days!! *trumpet fanfare ensues*

17 "Randoms"

1. Tomorrow I shall attempt a new recipe in my crockpot! It is a Vegetable Curry that I found in a "Fitness" magazine form the library. I am a bit leery of the combination of curry and coconut milk in the crockpot, but we'll give her a whirl, and I'll post about how epic of a failure/success it turns out to be.
2. Is it wrong that I really, really like the smell of my scrapbooking glue?
3. I want to go to Cleveland right now. Namely, Shaker Heights.
4. I've discovered I need to make a dessert on an average of about every week and a half, based upon personal cravings.
5. I have laundry that has needed to be folded for 3 days now. Tonight, it's on!
6. TV has never been so awful.
7. If I could choose one superpower, I would fly.
8. I bought mint-chocolate roasted almonds at the grocery store today, and the thought of eating them is frankly kind of distracting me right now.
9. I can't wait to start running again on Thursday.
10. Elephant scrapbooking paper or polka dots?
11. Ratatouille must be made before summer's bounty of fresh produce becomes a fleeting memory.
12. I loath my hair, but not my haircut.
13. Steve needs to share his Reese's Pieces with me.
14. I do not care for sideburns.
15. I find marionette puppets so incredibly disturbing; I can't even begin to express it. This most likely stems from watching too many "Twilight Zone" episodes with my dad.
16. Why do I find 3 children easier than 2? It's inexplicable.
17. And last of all...

Onward with more culinary adventures!! Stay tuned for the continuation of "The Epic Adventures of Skarymop & Co."!!! :)

On lemons, summertime, and a brief hiatus

My mind is filled to the brim tonight; I can barely even focus enough to write, which for me, is most bizarre, seeing as I've made it one of my missions in life to multitask until my arms fall off or my hair falls out, whichever may come first. HOWEVER; I do believe I am allowed a measure of grace in this instance, because as of sometime tomorrow, I shall become a mommy for the third time. YAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYY!!! As I write this, I am officially one week overdue, and, well, let's just say this hasn't been the peachiest of pregnancies, so when I say,"Stick a fork in me; I'm done," you know that I am in earnest. I've pretty much gotten over my disappointment in my body and its severe lack of instinct in the due date department, so now I am just super-stoked about Baby and the fact that I am nearly done being pregnant. YESSSSS. Now that I have shared those tidbits of information, I must now make haste and finish this entry for several reasons:

1) I'm on my husband's laptop, so I've got about a 20-minute window of time until our wireless decides it doesn't like me anymore and stops working.
2) Hmmm. I guess that's my most pressing reason. ONWARD!!!

So let's talk about summertime. And lemons. And why they are synonymous to me. For some inexplicable reason (as most of my food associations are, well, inexplicable), I have always become overwhelmed with the urge to indulge in the most lemony of desserts once the weather warms to a most comfortable mid-70's. Enough of heavy pies and dense cakes. I want brightness of flavor to come marching onto my palate with all the boldness of a LION. RAWR!! *ahem* For some time, a certain lemon bar recipe has tempted me, and finally, on Sunday, I decided that since I was two days overdue with no immediate respite in sight, I might as well have one last culinary hurrah while it was reasonable. And so I made this:

http://http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/favorite-lemon-squares

They are wonderful. And if you understand my love for lemony indulgences in warm weather, well, you will just have to try making these some time. It was quite thrilling grating 1.5 sticks of frozen butter with my box grater- a new adventure for me! Trust me, you want to try these.

And now...another item of business. Due to the fact that I am having a child tomorrow, I shall be taking a small hiatus from this here blog. My problem is this: it's not that I don't like to cook after I have a child. In fact, it is one of my greatest stress-busters, as I have said before. But alas, people insist upon showering us with great food during the first few weeks after Baby comes, and I simply have no reason whatsoever to exert myself in any culinary way, shape, or form. Hmmm. Perhaps I'll try more frivolous things, like this double-layer chocolate cake I've had my eye on for a while...HA!! I'll try to restrain myself and do a little something called, "REST". :) Keep cooking and baking...and until I'm really, truly ready, I shall content myself with simply dreaming of that double-layer chocolate cake.

On confessions, redemption, and great ribs

I promised to report back on my attempt at homemade barbeque sauce, and even though this is ridiculously tardy, a promise is a promise, and I am a woman of my word.



Verdict: The Sauce is STILL the Boss. I MUST CONFESS, I hate having to eat a massive slice of humble pie on my blog. As the saying goes, confession is good for the soul and bad for the reputation. Or something. It's much more embarassing than I thought it would be, but I must be honest and man up. Or woman up. So here's my little tale of woe about mediocre pulled pork sandwiches and just plain nasty homemade barbeque sauce:

It was a beautiful day. The kind where you just knew that everything you set your hand to would be a glowing, vibrant, smashing success with no glitches whatsoever. At least, that was my general vibe as I swaggered into the kitchen that morning with a massive 7 lb. pork shoulder roast. I prepared the rub. Check. Rub adminstered to the dead pig. Check. Wrapped in plastic wrap to self-marinate all day. Check. Dashed off to handbell practice (with the obligatory once-a-week Starbucks stop on the way, of course). Check. Dashed home, removed plastic wrap, and stuck the roast into the oven. Check. Everything was going swimmingly. A little TOO swimmingly. The roast was supposed to take at least 6 hours to cook. Because I have an evil oven on steroids, it appeared we were going to eat dinner approximately 2.5 hours earlier than usual that evening. No biggie, I told myself. I'll just start the barbeque sauce now!! This was it, folks. The moment I had been waiting for all week!! I assembled all of the ingredients. It was time for some inspiration- yes! The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders from Mars was now blasting in my kitchen (David Bowie, I will always love you). Putting the sauce together was not difficult, even though the recipe totally LIED when it said I only needed a medium saucepan. After I finally pulled out the largest pot I own, I started to become a little bit...well, nervous. The roast was starting to smell a little more burnt as I worked the get the stupid sauce to simmer. As "Lady Stardust" blared in my ears, I cranked up the heat to high, pulled the roast out of the oven, and breathed a sigh of relief. The roast looked AWESOME, smelled great, and needed to sit a good 20 minutes before I could begin the process of "pulling". SO I fussed over the sauce for a few more minutes, and had a most disheartening epiphany: This was NOT the sauce I had been dreaming about. Not even close. It was not tangy-sweet; heck, it wasn't even close to sweet. It was too thin. And most importantly...IT DID NOT PASS THE NOSTRIL-TINGLING TEST!! I was not a happy camper at that point. Things were not looking good. All I had was an entire dutch oven filled with some fancy ketchup, and an upstart roast that just HAD to cook fast. Well, being the stubborn woman that I am, I was NOT to be daunted! Fine. So the sauce was just flat-out gross. Maybe it would magically transform upon my palate after it was combined with the pork! Yes! OF course. So, with great vigor, strength, and enthusiasm (and a little more David Bowie), I began the arduous process of what is known as "pulling" meat. I must pause here for a moment. What can truly be said about pulling meat? Allow me to enlighten you. PAY SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT. That is all you need to know. Now, I thrive on making life as complicated as possible for myself; in fact, I love the aspects about my life that make other people run away screaming, "I would NEVER do that!!" (examples: cloth diapers, homemade baby food, and no cable TV. It's the TV part that usually gets 'em). So for me to make up my mind to never, ever, EVER attempt something of a culinary nature ever again, well; you just know it had to be AWFUL. Now, I must give credit where credit is due. The pork itself was delicious! And tender. And oh-so-flavorful. It truly was a great roast. Naturally, I went right ahead and destroyed it by adding the barbeque sauce, which was smugly simmering in the most mocking way as I poured it onto the shredded meat (1.5 hours of pulling, just in case you were wondering). Well, dinner totally stunk. The kids would have no part of the pork sandwiches after just one bite. Steve made a heroic effort. I couldn't even finish mine. I think we nuked some hotdogs for dinner. I actually can't remember. Or perhaps I just blocked it from my mind. At any rate, there is no need to prolong this confession any longer than necessary, especially since it's already too long. The one nice thing about confessions is that afterwards, there's usually a good story of redemption just around the corner. And that, my friends, is precisely where I intend to lead you.
So after my domestic disaster, I laid low for a few days and stuck with some basics. Bean and Cheese Burritos. Pasta and Texas Toast. Stir-fry. You get the idea. AND THEN...the day before Mother's Day, Steve turned to me during breakfast clean-up and said,"I'm going to make you ribs for Mother's Day." Just like that. I was slightly hesitant at first. Although we have long since mastered the art of ribbing, it is, and always will be, a most messy affair, and I wasn't quite sure I was up for the extreme mess only a week after I had my crash-and-burn session with the pulled pork. But after Steve literally BEGGED me, I finally gave in (after he assured me that he would clean up every single thing he touched during the prep process). So after a HORRIBLE Mother's Day lunch at Panera Bread, which culminated in both boys squirting nearly their entire yogurt tubes on themselves AND the floor and one child telling me he hated me, Steve set off for the butcher shop for some fresh baby-back ribs. I've got this thing about baby-back ribs: If you're going to spend that kind of money on meat, make it count. Go to a butcher. Get it fresh. Not this "Fresh-from-frozen" garbage. Anyway, after toodling around online for a few minutes to find just the right recipe for a rib rub (hee hee- that sounds hilarious), Steve went to work in the kitchen. The kids were napping, and so was I. I awoke to the most delightful aroma-isn't that one of the greatest sensory delights known to man?? Waking up to the delectable scent of two slabs of baby-back ribs (with a Kansas City rib rub) slowly cooking in the oven...mmm. Perfection. It was time. Steve fired up the grill, I steamed some broccoli and poured potato chips into a bowl for some sad excuses for side dishes, and the boys played happily in the yard while Daddy grilled and somehow managed not to mutilate each other. During the last 10 minutes of grilling, "The Sauce" came out. Let me just say this: I am more devoted to "The Sauce" than I ever have been. In the future, it's going to take alot more than a few longings for North Carolina to tempt me to try another homemade barbeque sauce. And that's for sure. Back to the grill! Steve proceeded to generously slather The Sauce (how else does one slather, other than generously??) all over the ribbies, and then it was show time. Well then. I have just one word to describe our dinner that night:

BLISS.

All was restored at that point. I no longer felt like an inept mother. We all ate until we could eat no more, and then I had just one more rib. I felt I could move past my culinary failures of the week before, and all because of the redemptive nature of our Mother's Day dinner. It's the small things, my friends. It's ALWAYS the small things. And although there's something sticky under my chair right now, and I am so pregnant that I can barely move, I think there's something to be said for attempts to redeem a lousy situation. Here's to never giving up trying to make things better, and here's a few recipes that you probably can't live without:

Ribs- recipe from my Mom, Deborah Skop
1 slab of fresh baby-back ribs
I can of sauerkraut
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Sweet Baby Ray's Original Barbeque Sauce

-Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spread sauerkraut in a 9x13 pan; place ribs on top. Season generously with salt and pepper, place in oven, and bake for 1 hour. Take ribs out of oven, then grill for 15 minutes (medium heat). During the last 10 minutes, reduce heat slightly, and generously slather barbeque sauce onto ribs, and grill until hot and bubbly. Serve, and prepare to bask in many compliments. You may serve the sauerkraut as a side dish, or (as I do) be nice and wasteful and toss it. It's really more of a conduit for moist ribs more than anything else.

AND...

Ay, there's the rub...

http://bbq.about.com/od/rubrecipes/r/bl91211a.htm

A word of caution: DO NOT apply the entire rub to the ribs!! It will be chalky in texture. You will use about half the rub for two slabs of ribs. You may refrigerate the remaining rub for one month. Can great ribs really be so simple? Yes. The best and most beautiful things are always simple. :)