Super naughty garlic bread

Do you ever have one of those days where you wake up and you're in the mood to cook some Italian-American food? Something like baked rigatoni, with a heavy sauce and lots of cheese? And if you're going to all that trouble, you might as well go all out, right? So you pop a bottle of red, put some silly Italian music from Dean Martin on, and get out the sauce pan.

Don't forget the garlic bread. You should make it before you make the salad. You will be very popular with your friends. And it's such a simple secret.

Super Naughty Garlic Bread

1 loaf good bread
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
several cloves minced garlic
1-2 tablespoons honey
salt generously

Preheat oven to 400F.
Slice the bread, but don't cut all the way through.
Mix the butter, garlic, honey, and salt in a small bowl. Adjust seasonings to taste. I like it quite sweet and garlicky.
Tuck the butter mixture into the sliced loaf. Be generous.
Wrap in tinfoil and place in the oven at the same time you put your pasta in the water. When it's time to eat the garlic bread will be crusty on the outside, soft and buttery on the inside, and the garlic will have lost its raw bite.

Whole foods for baby

As much as it pains me, I'm getting ready to give up breastfeeding.

I really wanted to nurse as much and as long as we both wanted to. I guess that time has come sooner than I anticipated, and that saddens me. I worked so hard to maintain my supply through our multiple hospitalizations and weeks of tube-feeding, hoping we would resume our breastfeeding relationship as before. It was such simple, sweet thing. The babe prefers the bottle now. He got two teeth in the time he was tube-fed, and then he was biting me and I was back at work, so we transitioned to the bottle. We nurse a bit in the morning now, and sometimes in the evening, and he's mostly stopped biting me. But he's gotten lazy and if he's hungry he gets frustrated at the breast. I don't really have time to pump at work and my supply is causing worry again.

Babe is 7 months old now, and we have just begun to introduce solid foods. I still intend to pump/nurse for as long as we can, but if we need to supplement with something, I want to supplement with homemade "breastmilk" --I really don't want to call it formula. There are many reasons I don't want to give him grocery store formula: he doesn't like it, I have health concerns about it, and I don't want to financially support these companies and their (I think) questionable business practices.

So I'm researching making my own supplemental baby milk. Have you tried this? There seems to be some information out there, but not a lot and I am surprised that there aren't more parents doing this. I want the best nutrition for my baby and I want to make healthy food choices in general, for my family, community, and planet. 

the art of nursing

I love this photo. It shows the essence of nursing so well. This nurse is doing the best thing, just by being there with an open heart. The best nurses are fearless; they confront illness or birth with each patient, over and over again. They are not closed off or defensive; to truly advocate for the patient they need to listen and understand with compassion. No veil. They are bodhisattvas.

I know I am a more compassionate nurse now. One thing this terrible/wonderful year has given me is greater compassion. Feeling blessed.

Intentions

Part of simplicity and mindfulness is living with intention. I've believed for a long time that it's not what we think that matters, but what we do. I want the things I do to reflect my beliefs and values. I want to do fewer things that are incongruous, impulsive, or unkind.

I want to stop purchasing drug-store beauty products that are tested on animals and full of chemicals that probably cause cancer or disrupt the environment.
I want to drink California wines while in California, and Italian wines while in Italy. Same for olive oil.
I want to buy gifts this holiday season from local craftspeople and businesses. I want to support local business in general.
I want to spend more time reading, writing, taking photos, making things, dancing, conversing, and engaging, not mindlessly consuming media.
Eat more vegetarian meals.
Listen to music. 
I'm interested in bringing healthcare back into the home and the very local (microlocal? is that a thing yet? it should be.) community through herbalism, nutrition, midwifery, breastfeeding support, etc.

Some changes I'm making recently:
Switching from mainstream cleaning products to vinegar, baking soda, castile soap, and essential oils.
Menu-planing more, cooking creatively, and wasting less.
Eating what's in the garden.
Eating what's nutritious. Food is medicine. 

A new season

We had one of those summers where the babe took sick, the crops wouldn't grow, and my milk nearly dried up. Very Grapes of Wrath, I thought to myself all summer long. A very humbling, human experience. One of those seasons that takes a lot, but ultimately gives back a lot.

Growing tomatoes here, in California, is effortless. I stick them in the ground or in a big container, water occasionally, feed occasionally, don't overthink, and they they grow like weeds and there are more tomatoes than I can keep up with all summer long. Early Girl and Cherokee Purple are my favorites. The Brandywine yellow variety. Not this year. Nothing wanted to grow. The babe was in the hospital, and when I was there I fretted about him. When I came home for a respite and a shower, I fretted about the stunted tomatoes. I started gardening 5 years ago after a terrible breakup. I've learned a lot and the garden has given a lot of pleasure and satisfaction. But this year, the failed garden was just another source of pain, discontent, and powerlessness.

So something really opened up inside me last weekend when we pulled out the old tomato plants, gave the perennials a haircut, amended the soil, and planted lettuces, radishes, more peas, and carrots. We've already eaten a lot of kale from the garden and a lot of snap peas. See how tall those pea plants are? I repurpose some tomato cages to hold them up.

And this morning we woke up to sprouts! Leetle tiny radish sprouts, all growing and trying and bursting forth. I get a little excited.

I'm relieved. Hopeful. With my birthday and Thanksgiving coming so soon, and then the new year, it feels like we're getting a fresh start. Thank you little sprouts. We needed that.

Celebration Rigatoni with Sausage and Peppers

Maybe we were just happy that the race was called for Obama right as the pasta finished cooking, and the baby was sleeping, and the kitchen was light and cozy, but dinner was really yummy last night. (This confluence of events does not happen often these days.)

The baby had a busy day yesterday: a trip to the polls, then brunch, then he and I went to the market. Maybe I'm weird that I like doing the grocery shopping. I really enjoy it! My schedule allows me to go to a nice store, in the off-peak hours, and I have a sweet baby who loves to be worn in the ergo and look at all the food and people. So when we got home he was tired and hungry, ripe for being nursed down so the grown-ups could have a peaceful dinner. We really need to remember that babies are like puppies and need to be taken out and tired out each day.

This is a recipe I've been doing for years, tweaking it a little each time. Last night it was pretty much perfect. The most important thing is not to rush the onions and peppers. You want to let them carmelize a bit to really develop the sweetness. That tames the tomatoes and gives the whole thing a hearty depth of flavor.

 Celebration Rigatoni with Sausage and Peppers
 
1 pound bulk Italian sausage
1 large onion, sliced in half moons
1 red bell pepper, sliced
1 yellow bell pepper, sliced
1/4 cup red wine
1 28 oz can crushed tomatoes
1 bag baby spinach leaves
a few tablespoons heavy cream
1 pound rigatoni
a generous handful grated parmesan

Heat a heavy bottomed saute pan until pretty darn hot, and brown the sausage. Remove and let drain on a paper towel. Before the pan cools, add some olive oil and the onions and heat on medium-high until they just begin to brown. Add the bell peppers, season generously with salt and pepper, and heat until they barely begin to wilt, and turn the heat to low. Let them melt together until very soft, at least 30 minutes. Longer here is better. Use this time to make salad, load the dishwasher, drink wine, mingle with your dinner guest, set the table, or hush a crying baby.

Deglaze the pan with a glug of red wine, scraping up all that yummy browned sausage bits. Add the can of tomatoes and bring to a simmer. Put the pot of pasta water on to boil. Allow the sauce to simmer at least 20 minutes, until very thick and saucy. Taste and adjust seasonings. I contemplated adding some herbs here, but it didn't need it. The sauce should be very tangy and sweet. It should feel full and round on the tongue. If it doesn't, add salt and cook longer.

When the pasta water is boiling, add the rigatoni and cook until al dente. At this time, add the spinach to the sauce and allow to wilt. Add the browned sausage and allow to heat through. Just before the pasta finishes cooking, turn off the heat and add a few tablespoons heavy cream. Taste the sauce and adjust seasonings again.

Reserve some pasta water and then drain the pasta. Return it to the pot. Pour the sauce on top, add the generous handful parmesan, some pasta water to loosen the sauce, and toss.

Dish up. Serve with extra parmesan and/or a drizzle of olive oil.

Election day

Our little family walked to our polling place to vote this morning and then had pancakes at our local greasy spoon. The baby is too young to remember, but I hope he will be proud one day that he was there when Obama won a second term. I want him to learn that it's his duty to vote, and I want him to value justice, diversity, and social responsibility. I want to raise a feminist son.

Here in California, we voted for labels on GMO foods. I sure hope this is the start of national right to know campaign.

I am cooking dinner and drinking wine. Feeling celebratory. NPR's on the radio and my good man is putting the baby down. Maybe I'll bake cookies later. It's a good day.