Day Eighty Six: Sugar Tax

I have a five-year old son.  He is a very active boy.  I often joke that he has two speeds:  run and sleep.  There is no middle-ground.  If I could find the source of his energy, I could solve the country's dependence on foreign fuels.  We could just put him on a large hamster wheel and let him go.  Despite being the sweetest boy ever, he gets a lot of attention from his teachers because he is so active.  "Attention" as in:  "Please sit down", "Please stand in line", "Please go back to your seat", "Please stay in your seat", etc... He doesn't exactly get into trouble, but I know it must get annoying to his teachers.

And that is why I pay The Tax:  The Boy Tax.

The Girl Tax is paid in shoes, dresses and weddings. The Boy Tax is paid in emergency room visits, bulk purchases of stain remover, and gifts of thanks and apology.  Gift of Thanks and Apology as in "thanks for putting up with my son, I'm sorry he: broke that window/ kidnapped your cat/ let the class frog loose at assembly."

As a thank-you for his teachers' patience and love, this year's payment is in sugar.  As in sugar cookies.

As you might remember, I'm not so adept at icing sugar cookies.  That attempt was traumatic enough that I'm not ready to try icing cookies again.  I'm mentally scarred.  But I will try making sugar cookies again...this time with sprinkles.

I used Martha's Heart Sugar Cookie Recipe.  The recipe tastes great, but I obviously have some sort of mental defect when it comes to rolling dough.  I simply cannot make the dough uniformly flat. It's always too thick in the middle and too thin on the ends.  It only took me about five eleven tries to create a sugar cookie that didn't fall apart.

After about an hour worth of rolling, cutting, cursing, and re-rolling, I ended up with about a dozen decent-looking cookies:

 I layered the cookies and put each in a little bag with ribbon that reads:  Sweets to the Sweet.

Add a note thanking each teacher for all her hard work and there you go:  Boy Tax paid.

Until next year...

Day Eighty Five: You Say Panini, I say Panino

Confession:  I know eating carbs isn't cool anymore, but I just can't resist a good sandwich.  Add cheese and throw it on the grill and I'm in Panini Paradise.  Point of fact:  the word panini is derived from the Italian word panino, which means "grilled in heaven".*

*Not really. 

Today I had a craving for a panini.  Specifically something with fresh mozzarella.  Martha's Pressed Mozzarella Sandwich fit the bill.

The recipe itself is super simple.  If you have store-bought pesto, tapenade, and bread, all you need is some fresh mozzarella cheese (the ball stuff in liquid), and you have the makings of one delicious panini.  Use a grill pan or an actual grill if you want the cool grill marks.

I know what you're thinking:  I had you at cheese.  This is the delicious product:

My husband liked this panini so much, he asked for seconds.   All went well until I flipped the sandwich to toast the other side and all the toppings fell out onto the stove.  

That is called a panino imbecillio, which is Italian for "sandwich grilled by idiot".          

Day Eighty Four: Just Beachy Cupcakes

My son's pre-k class is having an end-of-the year party tomorrow before the Summer break.  The theme for this week:   Summer.

Surprising topic, I know.

I've volunteered to make a dessert for the party.  Considering the theme, I couldn't resist Martha's Shark and Beach Cupcakes.

These are shockingly easy.  After you make the cupcakes and put on the icing, just sprinkle finely-ground graham crackers and top with drink umbrella or paper shark fin.  Too adorable.  It all went smoothly until my kids bumped the cupcake carrier and knocked half of the cupcakes on the ground.

I won't pretend that I didn't curse when that happened.  My daughter actually covered her ears.

Luckily this recipe makes extra, so I just had to re-do the icing and shark fins.  (And wipe the icing off the counter, floor, cabinets and clothes.)  All cupcakes are now safely stowed somewhere high and out-of-reach of curious fingers.

Day Eighty Three: Traditional Stir-Fried American

A few days ago, I went to the grocery to pick up a few things for Memorial Day.  You know: burgers, buns, hotdogs.....the sort of things one traditionally eats on Memorial Day.  I was all prepared.  Memorial Day rolls around and the burgers are cooking on the grill.  In comes my husband, informing me the burgers will be finished in a few minutes.  Would I be so kind as to prepare the side?

I think it was the deer-in-the-headlights look that gave me away:  I forgot to buy anything for a side.

Shoot.

I quickly set down the baby, hopped over three Matchbox cars and ran to the refrigerator to find....asparagus.  There I am at the open refrigerator with a bunch of asparagus and approximately four minutes until a ravenous family descends upon me.

Fortunately, after one search for "asparagus" at MarthaStewart.com, I found a recipe for stir-fried asparagus.  And that's what I made.  Because it takes approximately three minutes to make.  And when one thinks "Traditional American Holiday Fare", one also thinks: "Stir-Fried Asparagus".

Or that's what I told my children.

And this is the reason why, in twenty years, I will still be serving Stir-Fried Asparagus for Memorial Day.

Happy Memorial Day.

Day Eighty Two: Hi-Ho Silver! Beach Bag

Meet my old beach bag.

This is my "old" beach bag not because it has been replaced by a new beach bag, but because it is, indeed, old.

I purchased this bag in 1996 at the Gap, during my freshman year in college, after I aced passed my biology exam.  It's most redeeming feature is that the woven straw has lots of very large holes through which the sand can easily fall through.

That's my nice way of saying it's not the cutest bag I've ever seen.

So when I saw Martha's feature on silver Spray-Painted Accessories, I couldn't help but see if I could improve the old beach bag.

I happened to have some sterling silver spray paint left over from another project, so before I could have second thoughts, I started painting.  This is the result:

It's not bad.  It looks like...well, it looks like I spray painted my beach bag.  I'm coming around to it, really.  But considering how it originally looked, I can't say this is a failed project.

Did I mention this bag has very large holes through which the sand can easily fall through?

Day Eighty One: Nearly Perfect Impromptu Picnic

On Saturday, I received the June issue of Martha Stewart Living.  Inside was a article on picnic gear, which one should assemble for impromptu meals at the beach.  MS Living June 2012 p. 22.

Inspired, I readied my picnic basket with the intention, rather than any plan, of having a picnic on the beach in the near future.

So imagine my surprise when my husband suggested we head to the beach on Sunday afternoon for a picnic and fun in the sun with the kids.  And there I was with my picnic basket ready...

To some, an hour drive to the beach after packing all the accouterments of three children heading to the beach for the afternoon isn't exactly impromptu. It was positively spontaneous for us. 

If it had been less spontaneous, I would have remembered my camera and captured the whole thing on film for your enjoyment. 

But, like anything that's truly impromptu, there's always something you forgot at home.  Oops.

Day Eighty: This One's For You, Sissy

I have a friend who refuses to make a recipe with more than five or six ingredients.  I'm not sure how she manages, but goodness knows she's probably not making any of Martha's recipes.

Well, I found one just for you, Sissy.

Martha's 3-Ingredient Fettuccine Alfredo is true to its name.  It only has three ingredients...and that includes the fettuccine.

Ingredients:
1/2 pound of parmesan:

Two sticks of butter:

1 pound fettuccine and you're done:

  
My kids loved this recipe, and with only three ingredients, it's surprisingly good.   Even more surprising: it's Martha's favorite.  Looks like Martha's a fan of recipes with less than five ingredients too.  Sissy, looks like you're in good company.  

Day Seventy Nine: How to be Popular in Pre-K

My son's pre-k class is studying the ocean this week. When I found Martha's Fish Bowl dessert, I had to take advantage of the theme and try it out.

The key to this recipe is using unflavored gelatin and blue food coloring,  NOT blue Jello.  This meant I had to hunt down unflavored gelatin...which required stopping at three stores and baffling several grocery clerks.

Me:  Do you sell unflavored gelatin?

Them:  Gelatin?

Me:  Yes, gelatin.  As in Jello.  I looked next to the Jello but I couldn't find it.

Them:  :Blanklook:  Gelatin?  We sell Jello.  I've never seen anything called "gelatin".

Me:  Gelatin. Is. Jello.

Them:  Oh.   Did you look next to the Jello?    


I finally found unflavored gelatin (on my own) at the third store.  It was next to the Jello.

I followed the directions, added blue food coloring and let it sit overnight:

After it sets, cut slits in the gelatin and slip in the gummy fish.  I found some adorable clown fish and starfish.  It turned out ridiculously cute.

When I brought it to class in the morning, I was nearly mobbed by parents and teachers trying to take a look. Children were in awe.  I felt like the prom queen...until my youngest daughter spit up all over me. :realitycheck:   

Best part:  my son's teacher is going to let her students make this project in class next year.  Look at Martha and me, contributing to future generations of creative genius.  One pre-k class at a time. 

I'll need more gelatin.

Day Seventy Eight: Thanks for the Memories

My son's last day of pre-school is Thursday.  His classmates have contributed to a gift and made cards for both teachers. One of the parents complied pictures of the kids and had photo books made.  It really is a very touching little offering by an adorable group of five year olds.  I decided to take this little treasure and put it all in a Memory Box. If the teachers have any keepsakes from the year, there is room to add them as well.

You'll notice the origami envelope  for the gift card.  I'm still a little twitchy from that debacle. Now, every time I turn my back, I make sure and locate Little Miss Piillowbox Mangler, a.k.a. my oldest daughter.  I need to make sure she's not creeping up behind me to "borrow" anything while I'm not looking.

Wrapped memory box, from Martha's collection at Staples.  The labels are from her collection as well.

My son made a card for each teacher.  On the front, he drew two stick figures:  he and his teacher.  It is very sweet.  I assume he is the one on the right with the spiky hair and she is the one on the left with the long hair.  I find it terribly funny that in his effort to be anatomically correct, he has made the both of them look like Edward Scissorhands.

I wonder if Martha has any drawing tips.

Day Seventy Seven: Glass Act

As you may have noticed, we entertain often...and often in large numbers.  So I've acquired a collection of glassware for beverages of the grape variety.  I haven't counted recently, but I probably have about 100 wine glasses.  When they aren't in use, they need to be stored.  I only have a couple spots to squirrel away glasses when not in use...and it's like sardines in there.  I've been storing them in the boxes they came in, but the boxes have become cumbersome.

That's a nice way of saying they are a pain in my behind.

I saw Martha's idea to store glasses using a Tray Shelf Divider, which allows you to store lots of glasses in a small space.  Looks like a winner to me.

This was a pretty challenging task.  :stretching:  First you put a layer of seldom used glasses on the bottom.  Then, stick a tray over the first layer of glasses.  Then place another layer of glasses on top of the tray.

Whew.  :wipesforehead:  Toughie.

There you go:

I know you are impressed.  Try not to gawk.

I now have a home for almost 60 glasses, where I could only fit about 30 before.   :organizingsuperstar:

Day Seventy Six: Pillow Box Murder Mystery

As a thank-you present, the parents in my son's pre-k class are taking up a donation to buy his teacher and teacher's aide gift cards.  The parent selected to collect the money and purchase the gift cards was me.

Actually, I volunteered, but that's only because I was asked to help...and apparently I have a compulsive disorder where I can't decline an opportunity to volunteer.  It's called volunteerosis.

Yes, I just made that up.

At any rate, I'm buying these gift cards and I wanted to put them in a cute box or something....I figured Martha would have an idea for me.  And of course she did.  I decided to make these cute little pillow Gift Boxes.  Her boxes are Christmas-themed, but I figured I could replace the holly with a bow.

I decided to use some leftover paper from the bunny boxes to create these pillow boxes.  Leftover paper:

Paper folded and cut into basic shape:

Cutting edges to create the "pillow" shape:

See why they are called "pillow" boxes?

The boxes were turning out pretty well, but it was about this time that I had to step away from my desk to feed my youngest daughter.  I didn't realize that I should have set a personal bodyguard on my pillow boxes.  When I returned, both boxes were missing.  After an exhaustive search, during which I questioned my sanity several times ("Did I put the boxes away?"  "Did I really make the boxes?') I located the boxes in the corner:  Utterly. Mangled.  

My middle daughter (age three) was unable, apparently, to keep her little paws off my pillow boxes.  She "borrowed" them to store some of her crayons.

I love that child.  I need to keep reminding myself.

Love. Her.

Since that was the last of the cardstock, I had to start over.  I decided to try Martha's Oagami envelopes instead.  They look easy.  And easily replaceable should someone decide to "borrow" them.  

That's the piece of paper I started with there on the right.  That's a completed envelope on the left. 

These envelopes will look pretty cute with the gift card inside and tied up with a little bow.  Speaking of pretty cute, my middle daughter is lucky she is so dang adorable. But if she ever "borrows" something again, I may have to lock her in the closet.

Love. Her.
Love. Her.
Love. Her.

Day Seventy Five: Coming Out of the Closet

The other day when I was doing my Monthly Homekeeping chore list, I dusted the shelves in my closet. You might not think that your closet gets that dirty, but frankly I was appalled at the dust bunnies that had taken up residence there.  In addition to the dust bunny colony, I also noticed that my closet was rather full of clothes I don't wear very often.

Or, more accurately, clothes that have not seen the outside of my closet in over a year. Or two.

Oh, I have put on those clothes and sauntered over to my full-length mirror; but, those clothes have not actually been worn in public for quite some time.  They had to go.

Martha suggests you make space in your closet by getting rid of clothes you no longer wear.  Make three piles of items: those to donate, those to throw away, and those to sell.  I didn't have anything to throw away or sell, but I did compile three large bags of clothes to donate.  And I didn't even get to my husband's side of the closet.

What got the ax?  Several unflattering shirts, some ugly maternity gear, a pink halter top from 1998 and a faux-fur vest bought in a misguided attempt at mountain chic.

Finally, my clothes are coming out of the closet.

Day Seventy Four: Jersey Jambalaya

We hosted a crawfish boil today for my son's school.  I understand there are people who don't like crawfish, and even others who (gasp!) don't like shellfish at all.  For those weirdos people, I made Martha's Firehouse Jambalaya, but without the shrimp.

Deciding to make one of Martha's jambalaya recipes was not a decision I made lightly.  See, I grew up in Louisiana.  I was weaned on crawfish, jambalaya, and gumbo. My mother used to make baby food with cayenne peppers.  (Just kidding about that last part.)  To use a jambalaya recipe written by a woman from New Jersey is tantamount to being sober on Mardi Gras.  It's just not something you do.  If you did, you would not admit it.

I'm sure my grandmother is rolling over in her grave, but I hope she will forgive me.  


Boil chicken with onions and garlic and you end up with cooked chicken and a tasty broth for the rice:

The "trinity" of Cajun cooking: bell peppers, onions and celery...

All mixed together with rice and andouille sausage (pronounced ann-'do-ee):

This was a pretty decent recipe, but Martha forgets a few things:

First, jambalaya is like the meatloaf of Cajun food.  It's mostly filler.  As in rice.  The original recipe was mostly meat, so I added rice until I ended up with the correct rice-to-meat ratio (as made up by me for purposes of this blog) of 2:1, as in two parts rice for every one part meat.

Second, jambalaya is supposed to be spicy.  This recipe, while flavorful, is not remotely spicy.  Thankfully, people who don't like crawfish apparently don't care for spicy food either, so I was safe.


A note to my ancestors:  please don't hold this against me.  It was just this one time.

Day Seventy Three: Muffing the Banana Cupcakes

I haven't made cupcakes in a while, so I thought I would try a new cupcake recipe.  After I roasted those bananas the other day, I've been dreaming about bananas and decided to make Martha's Banana Cupcakes with Caramel Buttercream.

The cupcakes aren't very exciting, but the caramel buttercream icing looks delicious.  You start by making caramel with sugar and water:

It should cooked undisturbed until it turns a dark amber color.  Unfortunately,  "undisturbed" also means "forgotten" in my book and I burned the first attempt.   And the second attempt:

Hmmm.  Somehow I couldn't get the caramel right and had to start over twice before it turned out the right color.

Once the caramel cools, you add the it to the buttercream and end up with this delicious almond-colored icing:

Banana Cupcakes with Caramel Buttercream:

When I tasted these, my first thought was:  "Well...these cupcakes are tasty."

My second thought was:  "This is not a cupcake."

Because I was running around after my kids, there was a *little bitty* mix-up.  I was distracted...and instead of making Banana Cupcakes, what I actually made was Banana Muffins. :darnsearchengine:

Oops.

And because I'm not a very experienced baker, I didn't realize it until I tasted the finished product.

SO, looks like I will be having banana muffins with ridiculously good caramel icing for breakfast.    

:bangsheadontable:

I haven't told my husband yet.  I'm not sure I will ever live this one down.

Day Seventy Two: Missing Recipe Search

I'm on the hunt for a new lasagna recipe.

I had a good lasagna recipe.  I printed it out and carefully put it into a binder with other good recipes. About a year ago, however, my recipe disappeared from its home.  Maybe someone took it out.  Maybe it was misfiled.  Maybe the recipe went into the Witness Protection Program and is currently living in Utah under an assumed name.

I don't know.

At any rate, I've tried several lasagna recipes and I've yet to find a satisfactory replacement.  So I decided to try Martha's Classic Cheese Lasagna.  Martha says you can use dry lasagna noodles and purchased marinara sauce as a time-saver, and that's what I did. :cheater:

I like putting the lasagna together.  It reminds me of some elementary-school project:

Completed, cooked lasagna:

I wish I could have taken a more appetizing photo of this dish.  It was good.  My kids (surprisingly) loved it.  I'm surprised not because they are picky eaters, but because they are in that I-don't-like-different-foods-on-my-plate-to-touch age. My son pointed out that lasagna was just liked mashed up pizza without crust and dove in.

In case you were wondering, this recipe was good, but it doesn't replace the missing recipe.  If you happen to see it, please contact me.  I will give a reward for its safe return.    

Day Seventy One: Roasted Banana Baby Food Disaster

My daughter's first tooth arrived today.

Baby C is already six months old and I'm flabbergasted by how quickly time flies. :tear:

I also ran out of baby food today, so I had to visit the grocery.  I had not really thought about it before, but baby food can be expensive.  For what I spend on baby food each month, I could feed a small African nation.  At least the baby food comes in handy three-ounce serving sizes.

It occurred to me that Martha would not buy baby food.  She would make her own baby food from the food that she has grown in her garden, grown from seeds she foraged in the woods.  I don't grow food in my garden (with the exception of some herbs) but I can still try to make baby food.  So I grabbed a bag of carrots, a bunch of bananas and headed home.

This being my third child, it is not the first time I've tried to make baby food.  For some reason, the steamed veggies I've made in the past wasn't a big hit with my other children, so I wasn't encouraged to make more. They prefer the store-bought baby food.  Perhaps this is because the baby food I buy them reads like a gourmet menu:  roasted apples, baked sweet potatoes with white beans, sweet baby carrots with apple and mango, pasta with lentil Bolognese, and summer squash with Yukon gold potatoes and parmesan.  It got me thinking that maybe I should try something better than steamed carrots...

Martha has a few recipes for baby food.  But instead of following one of them, I read her  guidelines for baby food, and set out to try something a little different.  I decided instead of steaming the food, I would roast it.  Roasting brings out the sweetness and flavors in food, so I figured Baby C would prefer it.  So onto the pan went the carrots.  And a banana too.  Why not?

Bananas and carrots, mid-roast:

After the bananas and carrots had roasted at 400 degrees for about 20 minutes, I took out the bananas.  They smelled heavenly.  Like fresh-from-the-oven banana bread.  They tasted heavenly too.  The carrots were still pretty hard, so I put them back in the oven to finish cooking.

I put the roasted bananas in a little processor and pureed them until they were nice and smooth:

This is the result.
Yes, it is brown and scary-looking.
Did I mention it smelled really good?

It was about this time that I noticed something.  Something burning.

The carrots.

Well, it wasn't the carrots exactly, but the sugary liquid from the banana that I had cooked with the carrots.  The banana liquid had burned in the pan and caused the carrots to smell like burned bananas.

Humph.

Well, the bananas were still good.  Baby C will love those. :fingerscrossed:

:pauseforbigreveal:

I would like to tell you that Baby C loved the roasted bananas.  My ego and pocketbook were both hoping for a success today.   But, I'm pretty sure Baby C did not enjoy the roasted bananas.   In fact, every bite I fed her elicited a face of utter disgust.  You would have thought I was feeding her a lemon. :scratcheshead:  I don't get it.

Hmmm.  Maybe I should have started back at foraging for seeds in the woods.

Day Seventy: DJ Jazzy Gifts and the Perfect Package

One of my sweet friends is turning forty twenty-nine and we are having a birthday celebration for her.  I bought her a couple small things and wrapped them up, following Martha's explicit instructions.  I will save you the time of reading the article.  It comes down to this:  don't use too much paper and fold the edges neatly.  

You're welcome.  I just saved you three minutes. 

Martha gave me the idea to wrap the two gifts in different but coordinating paper and add a piece of decorative paper  to jazz it up.   

Wrapped gifts, ready for jazzing up:

Jazzed-up gifts:

I'll be off.  I have more (w)rapping to do. :insertbeatbox:

Day Sixty Nine: Party-Pooper Hydrangeas

I was reading an article the other day by my friend and Houston gardener, Donna Buchanan, giving Martha the credit for bringing hydrangeas back into fashion.  She is right, of course. This article from MarthaStewart.com discusses the explosion of popularity that hydrangeas have experienced since Martha revealed her passion for the blowsy shrub in the 1990s.  How's that for trendsetting?

I'm not much of a band-waggoner, but I was not immune to these beauties in the nursery.  Actually, the first time I spotted hydrangeas at a nursery, I ran across the lot to get a better look.  I may have knocked over a few old ladies and small children in the process.

 I was crushed when my hydrangeas were not blooming for our Derby Party. :whatapartypooper:  Of course, now that I'm the only one around to admire them, they are blooming like mad.  But through the wonder of a little something I call a Digital Camera, you can admire my hydrangeas from the comfort of your own home:

 

While taking these photos, I couldn't resist cutting a few for an arrangement.

If you have been following along, you will remember that I've had some spectacular failures with flower arranging.  This will not be one of them as it only entails cutting the flower and putting it in a glass.  That, I can manage.  :sendsupsilentprayer:

My hydrangeas:

Martha gives her tips for hydrating hydrangeas, but you basically just cut the stems at a 45 degree angle and stick them in water.  You can keep the bouquet fresh for two weeks by changing the water and recutting the stem an inch every day or so.

This is the sort of bouquet I like:  simple and nearly impossible to mess up.  Completed bouquet:

:victorydance: Not bad, given the hardest part was not spilling the water.

Day Sixty Eight: Teacher's Got a Brand New Bag

Summer vacation is almost upon us.  Before the stressful lazy days of Summer start, we must say farewell to those who have helped our offspring learn through the year.

This means Teacher Gifts.

My mother-in-law was a pre-school teacher for most of her adult life.  Before she retired, I saw all the impersonal delightful gifts kids gave her every year.  She had a whole Christmas tree of plastic apple and book ornaments that said things like, "Teachers R #1".  Truthfully, I think she loved every one but I couldn't help wondering what she really wanted.

For putting up with his antics, my son's teachers probably deserve a week at the spa.  Since I'm not Daddy Warbucks,  they are going to get a personalized bag, inspired by Martha.

To me, anything monogramed is top-of-the-charts.   Accordingly, his teachers should have monogramed bags, but there's one problem:  I don't know either teacher's middle name.  I felt a little awkward asking, considering we are not on a first-name basis.  So I decided to do a two-letter monogram.  I found these messenger bags and thought they were pretty cute.

I created a monogram on my computer and printed it out on some iron-on paper:

I highly recommend reading the directions for your particular paper, before you start.  I did not. Well, I read them, but it was while I was feeding my infant and refereeing the older two kids.  Luckily, I managed not to ruin either bag, but it was a close call.

Finished products:

They turned out pretty cute and I think (hope) my son's teachers will use them.

These bags aren't a week at the spa, but they've got to be better than plastic Christmas ornaments.