Break

I'm finally feeling like myself again.  It took a while to get here.  I was a ball of anxiety and nerves and stress and an extra-long weekend was what I needed to refocus.

It's been an intense week!  Last Wednesday we hosted my sister's kids and my mum for dinner.  The Big Yam was half out of mind with excitement at seeing his cousins.  We played Pie Face, which is a totally sadistic, gussied up version of Russian Roulette, with whipped cream instead of bullets.  You can play with a wet sponge (which the Big Yam prefers), but my sister's kids being the sugar hounds that they are, they went with whipped cream:

Thursday I took the twins to the indoor trampoline place during the day, and visited with the Roomie, then we had Dr. Rei and Hanbo and Zoony over and it was the best, obviously.  The best moments where when Dr. Rei mentioned getting Zoony sunglasses and I asked whether she got the "kind that have the strap that goes around the kid's head" and she was so offended that I asked her (with just cause, Baby Banz - pictured below - are horrendous).  LOL!  It was amazing.  She was so mad at me for 1) suggesting that she would buy them, and 2) implying that even if she did get them, they weren't the most horrendous thing you've ever seen.  Seriously, check them out.  They're THE WORST.  Only the worst people put Baby Banz on their kids.  We were also trash-talking Minions until Hanbo interjected with, "Uh, guys, Zoony kinda loves Minions," and we look over and Baby Zoony is standing enthralled by Minions in front of our TV, and pointing and saying, "owl."  So cute.

Friday we took the kids to Jamie Bell Adventure Playground again, except this time it was a skating rink.  Then we looked at the sad animals at the High Park Zoo (v. sad), and then took the kids to Kinton Ramen.  Except THIS time, the Kinton location we picked didn't even have proper chairs, or bench seating - they just have those blocky wooden stools.  Stools are NOT great for kids, but somehow, it turned out to be the best iteration of ramen en famille we'd ever attempted.  Pros: empty restaurant, I now roll around with little pucks of Play Doh in the diaper bag, we ordered the right stuff (turns out, Twin B loves ramen).  It was great.  We even jinxed it halfway by saying, "This might be the most successful restaurant outing ever) midway through the meal.

Then, the most epic thing happened on the way home.  I turned around and Twin A had Dizzy Gillespie cheeks and his mouth was all pursed closed and his eyes were watery and there was suspicious stuff around his mouth and I was like, "Oh s**t, he barfed!  In his mouth!" I frantically looked around and luckily we had an empty cardboard coffee cup and I twisted it around and held it under his mouth and told him to spit and he took his little wisp of a hand and pushed the cup away and shook his head.  I gave him a tissue and told him to wipe his mouth and he took it and wiped his lips but otherwise, held the barf in his mouth for the entire ride home (about 10 minutes)  until we got home and convinced him to spit it in the street.  It was epic.  Near the end, the Dotytron and I looked at each other and shook our heads in disbelief and the Dotytron said, "he is a better man than I."  Truer words have never been spoken.

This pic came home with the Big Yam the other day from school.  I feel like it's kind of passive aggressive???

After that adventure, we went to La Carnita with my sister and mum and C-Hova and Aunt Viv and then came back and ate cake.

Classic "Happy Birthday" spacing issues.  Shoutout to John Mulaney's standup special for reminding us all of Happy Birthday card-making spacing issues that befall us all.

Snapchat (or, "Snap-chap" as Twin B calls it) is proving very popular with the younger generation.

THEN SMckay showed up and our Discerning Coyote friend and we went to the SURPRISE PRINCE SHOW.

SO EPIC.

SMckay nailed the ticket getting.  I didn't know anything about the show before I agreed to go, only that it was a surprise show at the Sony Centre.  When the Dotytron informed me that it was an intimate show with just Prince and a piano, I was a little worried that with tickets to the 10pm show, I was on a fast-track to the most expensive nap I've ever taken.  I was wrong.  SO SO WRONG.  Prince shows are pure vibes.  Prince fans are the most beautiful mix of multiracial people - it's like going to Shondaland.  He is such a charismatic little miniature pony - he was in such a playful mood.  Stripped of the production, the power and craft of the songwriting shone through.  It was incredible.  I'm so glad I got to go.

This is actually a big month for me, concert-wise.  I went to Prince, I'm seeing Pusha T on Saturday, and then RiRi with Dr. Rei.  The freedom and socializing we're doing because the kids are all at an age where they're pretty manageable by a sitter is definitely mitigating my baby-craziness.  

Saturday I took the kids to meet my family for lunch and then we came home and went swimming at the Regent Park Aquatic Centre.  It was fantastic, although very, very crowded, and as always, Twin B continues to be a maniac.  He climbs up on the ledge and will basically cannonball into the pool without checking to see if anyone is there to catch him, frequently jumping ON TOP of other swimmers.  He could *just* keep his head above water by bouncing on his tippiest toes and then proceeded to push us away saying he could do it "hisself."  The Dotytron followed behind him as he walked down a ramp (Twin B couldn't see the Dotytron) just to see if at some point, maybe when the water was over his head, if he would get freaked out.  Nothing.  Nada.  When it got so deep, he just grabbed the railing, hooked his legs around, and just held on.  His confidence and level of entitlement is next level.

Twin A's face was basically like that, ALL MORNING.

We hosted my family for dinner and then they packed up and left.  The next morning was the annual street Easter Egg hunt, where I learned a few things: 1) my kids are terrible at Easter Egg hunting.  So slow and laid back.  2) Twin A woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  He doesn't get mad often, but when he does...it lasts nigh on the whole day.  He basically spent two hours inside our porch, pouting, radiating misery, and glowering everyone at our screen door, protesting until he could go back in the house.  He's having a bit of a time right now with tantrums and being in a snit and inconsolable for hours on end.  He has a way of wiping his eyes like a grown person massaging a migraine with one hand, that is very hilarious.

Easter is one of those fake holidays that I just can't do.  Some people do the hunt inside and then an auxiliary hunt outside and I just can't.  I also can't with hyping my kids up on the Easter Bunny.  Some people also treat Easter like it's second Christmas (which, I guess it is?  For Christians?) with legit presents and stuff and I don't see myself going there, either.  A simple hunt, some chocolate, and that's all I really have the mental energy and wherewithal for.

Sunday dinner we had at Momma D's house.  We were eating dinner, and I announced to the twins, "You know who's wearing underwear now and goes poop and pee on the potty? Jack." At which point, Twin B drops his fork, drops his hand palm-down on the table, slouches back dramatically in his chair, presses his head against the chair back, exhales mightily, and says in a deadpan, flat voice, "I hate Jack."  lolololol!  It was so funny.

Finally, Monday was a day of semi-rest.  The Dotytron and I took the morning to go eat ramen (he's on a HUGE ramen kick lately), then we had the Big Yam's friend over, then we hosted the Roomie and L'Armi and their kids.  It was epic.

Tuesday was the Annual General Meeting for that non-profit I volunteer on.  I was nominated to the Board of Directors!  The past two nights were proper nights off, and then it starts up all over again today.

This weekend is PACKED.  

Friday night: dinner at the Discerning Coyote's house

Saturday: Brunch at JJ's, Pusha T for me, Record Club for the Dotytron

Sunday: Supper club

After this we need to take it easy for a bit, methinks.

Fin.

Germane

Germane is the bane of my existence lately, but I will say that getting my work edited is definitely making me a better government writer.  I'm not known for my brevity.  I'm an over-explainer to the max (she says, stating the obvious, in a blog that's been running for almost 8 years, brimming with posts that are decidedly NOT on the short side).  

What follows is the kind of kitchen-sink blog post that is filled with the non-germane.  Jermaine Jackson did NOT sign off on this.  Nor did Jermaine Dupri.  I need another Jermaine to fulfill the rules of 3, but I'm coming up empty.

1) I don't care about Lip Sync Battles.  I find them funny for about .001 second and then I'm over it.  I don't get it.  It's a made-up thing.

2) Shad (the person, not the fish) is another made-up thing.  Like, when the internet and quasi-hipsters (for lack of a better word) on my social media started freaking because he (?) was named the new host of Q, I was like, "...da f**k?"  Shad the fish is legit.  I can get behind that.  Shad the person?  Total made-up thing.

3) When we were in Geneseo, before the Mouse Always Wins Disney Tour 2015 started, the Dotytron was party to a hilarious convo between the Big Yam and Little Little Cuz.

Big Yam: "Baba, how many people have died since people existed?"

Dotytron: "Ummm, I don't know.  A lot.  Like, more than a billion."

Little Little Cuz: "And a police officer at my mom's work.  He died."

Dotytron: "That's sad."

Little Little Cuz: "I was like, whatever." 

LOL!!!  Little Little Cuz is FOUR by the way, and apparently already shows a callous disregard for human life.  

4) This was my Easter:

That smattering of snow (seems so long ago now, after the recent run of two - TWO! - warm, sun-filled spring-like days in a row) really put a damper on the street Easter egg hunt, which usually heralds the beginning of "Norman Rockwell Season" on Lil' Ugmo Avenue.  The Easter egg hunt marks the turning point when the denizens of Lil' Ugmo Avenue emerge from winter hibernation with kids that have suddenly grown a foot taller over the winter.  It's when we start to spend the bulk of our pre-and-post-dinner time outside, chatting while our kids roam between houses like a roving pack of semi-feral beasts.  It's the best.

5)  The other day the Big Yam turned to me and asked, "When I grow up, are you going to marry me and Baba?" We've hit a rather sweet age - 4 is wonderful.  The tumult inside their little bodies seems to quiet a little, and their language acquisition seems to keep pace with the rush of thoughts inside their brains.  We get a lot of unprompted "I love yous" and out of nowhere, I'll turn around and find him planting a soft kiss on my arm.  It's very sweet.  We had to explain to him that the love you feel for your parents (and that we feel for him) is different from the kind of love you feel for the person you marry.  He seemed concerned about wanting to stay a part of our family, so we pitched it as finding someone you want to start a new branch of the family with.

I was kicking around this working thesis that the love you have for your children is beast of a different stripe than the love you have for your partner.  "OBVI" I can hear you muttering.  I had this whole riff on how you don't bring any baggage to the love you have for your kids, and then I realized that was a load of hooey.  Does anyone ever travel without baggage?  I don't think so.  Highly unlikely.  It's different baggage, but the love I have for my kids is coloured by my own upbringing, the way I relate to my parents, my siblings, my sense of self as it was forged in fiery pits of Mordor, I mean, Markham.  

Last weekend we threw a birthday party for Momma D.  The Dotytron and EhmDo put in so much work making the party a success for their mum.  There was a Coronation Street-themed cake and a photo album that had everyone welling up, and they performed a number of Momma D personal favorites.  

Big Yellow Taxi

Landslide

They changed the words to the Beatles' song "You Never Give Me Your Money" to "You Always Give Me Your Money"  - it was a huge hit!

As I sat with Lindsay on my lap, listening to the joy and love elicited by these talented, beautiful people in my life, I had a minor epiphany.  Maybe epiphany is too strong a word.  I was filled with gratitude and inwardly chided myself for taking the musical gifts of my outlaw family for granted sometimes.  I've been known to vocally discourage a career in the arts for my children.  Is it so wrong that I would like some kind of silicon valley venture capitalist?  Fine, maybe not a venture capitalist, but more like a Warren Buffet Berkshire-type.  Someone who will treat their parents right, ya know? Actually, if I really want a career for my kids that will result in them venerating their ma', then I should wish that they become like, Asian-Canadian Drakes or Kanye-types.   I realized as I listened, and as my kids (mainly Lindsay and the Big Yam) have requested Big Yellow Taxi every night a billion times, that I don't want to rob them of this particular form of aesthetic creation/appreciation.    They are so lucky to be steeped in this love for musical expression.  I only hope they can do that and do stupid abstract Singaporean math problems.

I had another thought, as I watched Momma D beaming with pride for her kids' prodigious talent.  I'm always vaguely discomfited by seeing parents demonstrably proud of their children.  It's just not something Chinese people do.  The concept of beaming with pride over your children is pretty foreign to me.  The Chinese way is to talk about your children's accomplishments "Ai ya!  Melody only got into Stanford-ah!  But not Harvard!  It's terrible-ah!  I told her to work harder!" where you're bragging but only in so far as their academic/professional achievements reflect on the parent.  Being proud of your kid's talents in the arts?  Not a thing.  Like, maybe if they're playing Carnegie Hall, but anything less just doesn't compute.  

I'd like to strike some kind of middle ground and break out of my cultural conditioning.  The babies are signed up for a toddler & caregiver art class that our caregiver brings them to.  I'm not proud of them for the work that they do, per se...more I find it hilarious and kind of "Awwwwww" when I see all their "art" and when our caregiver sends us photos of them in their class.  Less overflowing with pride than "what little cute weird butts."  

What we've eaten, lately:

Spicy grain soup and Smitten Kitchen's gruyere and caramelized onion biscuits.  The biscuits were pretty tasty, but not as tasty as the Red Lobster cheddar biscuits I made from the Red Lobster-sanctioned box mix.

A porchetta sandwich and a shrimp sandwich from a new sandwich shop in the 'hood.  I enjoyed these, but found the service incredibly slow, and they were good, but not great.  Unlike Porchetta & Co, where I've been dreaming about their buffalo fried chicken parmesan and porchetta sandwiches for weeks. 

Last time I was in the States, I bought a pack of scrapple, which we pan fried and ate with eggs.

The Texas sheet cake from Baked: Celebrations cook book.  I've had success with 3 of the 4 recipes I've tried.  This is a moist chocolate cake topped with a salted-peanut topped peanut butter and icing sugar frosting.  Deadly tasty.  

Braised veal breast with gremolata and my new favorite side, kung pao brussel sprouts (recipe below).  

Leftover bacon, kale, and squash risotto turned into arancini.  Anything fried topped with aioli = magic.

Freezer chili and cornbread.

Carnitas

A pear and almond tart.  This was delicious.  From Dorie Greenspan's book.  A very simple recipe of sauteed pears baked in a sweet, short crust, topped with a crispy almond-meringue.  I didn't take down the recipe, but it's pretty easy.  I think the topping was just a few egg whites, mixed with confectioner's sugar (I think about 1/2 cup?) and a cup of sliced almonds.

Freezer meatloaf with freezer broccoli cheddar rice casserole.  I love me a broccoli cheddar rice casserole.  I wish I had two more in the freezer.

Bouillabaisse with rouille

Spaghetti and meatballs

Tourtiere with tomato jam and braised red cabbage and appales

The Red Lobster biscuits.  Basically grated cheddar dumped into some kind of biscuit mix, and then brushed with butter mixed with garlic-salt.  So good.

I made my family a porchetta for Easter dinner.  I bought it from my go-to Italian butcher, who gave the Dotytron my pre-ordered meat with the not-so-encouraging, "I've never done this before!" (Really?  A porchetta?  From an Italian butcher that's been in business for 60 years?)  It turned out AMAZING.  So easy!  You just let it go.  I ate leftovers for weeks and weeks.

Trying very hard to resume a more regular posting schedule.  I have so many thoughts and all the feels (as per usual).

Fin.

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Kung Pao Brussels Sprouts

Not adapted at all, really from Bon Appetit

Allegedly serves 6 as a side, but we eat a LOT of brussels sprouts

2 lbs brussels sprouts , stems trimmed and halved 

4 T olive oil

1 T. cornstarch

3 garlic cloves, minced

2 T. peeled ginger, minced

2 T. sambal oelek

1/2 c. soy sauce

1 1/2 T. sugar

2 t. unseasoned rice vinegar

1/2 c. chopped salted peanuts or cashews

- toss the brussels sprouts in 3 T. of the oil and season with salt and pepper.  Roast in a 425F oven until dark and crispy and soft
- meanwhile, heat the remaining 1 T. of oil in a small pan.  Add the minced ginger and garlic to the cold oil and slowly heat.  When the ginger and garlic are fragrant and starting to brown just a bit, add the soy, the sugar, the sambal, the rice vinegar, and 1/2 c. of cold water.  Stir and taste for seasoning (I reduced the sugar from the original recipe, so you might want to add more).
- Take the 1 T. of cornstarch and stir with a 1-2 T. of water to make a thin slurry.  Stir this slurry into your soy mixture and heat to boiling.  When the sauce is thickened, pour over your roasted brussels sprouts and top with the chopped nuts.

*Note: I find this recipe made twice as much sauce as I needed, so I tend to reduce all ingredients by half, but obviously this is a moving target based on your amount of brussels sprouts.

Mood Boards

I've been running around like mad lately trying to price out a potential kitchen/bathroom renovation.  It is a LOT of work.  I've found a contractor who gave us a good price on labour and rough materials, which means I've got to source all the special stuff - fixtures, tile, appliances, lighting, kitchen cabinets, etc.  First up - let's see some mood boards, shall we?

I used to think I wanted shaker style cabinets with contemporary, long pulls.  White cabinets, grey floor, grey counter.  Something like this:

As I sat on this, and as I realized that Ikea is probably my best option in terms of price point for cabinets and that I wasn't super into their version of the shaker style (I like a narrow, very clean profile), I started finding myself veering towards flat front cabinets with contemporary tab edge pulls (like in the last two photos).  I'm thinking white cabinets with a slight gloss (Ikea's Applad fronts), light grey tile floor, and a white/pale marble influenced counter with maybe flecks of grey, likely in a caesarstone/silestone composite quartz.  Some open shelving, in medium-warm toned natural wood stain, as in the middle photo.  With all that neutral up in that piece, I've been heart set for a long time on a colorful, graphic backsplash.  Originally, I wanted to carry through the grey-acid yellow-white thing we have going on in the main floor of the house, but then I saw this tile and fell in love:

This tile probably costs a billion dollars a square foot and is obviously out of my reach.  I did find a rectangular tile with a raised prism pattern in a shade of blue/teal that I very much liked.  I think with the rectangular floor tile, the white expanse of the cabinets and all, it's going to look very stark and the raised dimensions of the tile will add some nice texture (I hope).  

The bathroom I'm basically ripping off my massage therapist's bathroom.  LOL.  I hope she doesn't mind!  Very basic - subway tile alcove bath, modern fixtures, a sink/console combination (no vanity), white open shelving and baskets for storing our unsightlies, wide wainscotting, marble hex tile floor:

That's actually the sink/console I'm eyeing

Running around to a million stores has been educational for me, in the sense that it has underscored how weirdly reluctant people are to HAGGLE.  1st rule of being a Lagerfeld is: PAYING RETAIL IS FOR SUCKERS.  Don't do it!  What the f**k are you paying these f**ks for?  To call up the manufacturer and place an order for you and then charge you a mark-up to make that phone call?  Gimme a break.

As an example, I have a small job I wanted done in our enclosed porch.  Basically, we have framing separating us from our neighbour's enclosed porch, and tacked onto the framing is basically like, cardboard, so you can't screw in any coat hooks that can take any weight.  The job is simple, rip out the old stuff, throw up some drywall, some beadboard, and a shelf, over an area that's about 12'x5'.  The job is so small that most of my contractors don't want to do it, so I found the name of some dude on a local community recommendation site and checked his work online.  I have him by, and he looks at the job, showing up with a business card with PAPYRUS font and reeking of butts (basically, he doesn't give you the white-glove customer service experience).  He comes back and quotes me $900.  NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS.  I was like, um, no.  I told him straight up that was more than double what I was willing to spend on labour and I ask him what his hourly rate is.  He writes back that he had included a bunch of time for "staining and finishing" (even though I had shown him pictures of what I wanted and it was white!  I had also specified paint-grade poplar!).  He tells me that his hourly is $50/hour (still high) so I said I'd pay him his hourly to a maximum of $350.  He INSTANTLY writes back "done. I can start on Friday."  !!!!!  LOL!  I felt a little bad about Carpenter Jim being such a sadsack and asked the Dotytron if he thought it was okay that I was lowballing to that extent.  The Dotytron was like, Carpenter Jim brought this on himself.  The sad thing is: some people will actually pay the $900!

Emboldened by my successful recent negotiations.I am officially the scourge of retailers.  Look, if an appliance store takes a mark-up of say, 20% ON EACH ITEM purely for the service of liaising with the manufacturer, then they can get that 20% on ONE item from me, not all.  Further, I'm of the belief that they should be okay getting a tighter profit margin on me, because so many rubes are willing to walk in and take the initial quote.  

The question of the hour now, is whether I can justify getting a 36" gas range.  I'm old school - I want a range that's as close to a commercial one as possible - which means: no fancy self-cleaning, no fancy dual-fuel, just gas on gas.  No computer to break down, no "multiple oven modes."  On, off, simmer, high.  No griddles!  No grills!  No wok functions!

TIME WILL TELL 

In typical me fashion this post has taken me a solid week to put together.  Thus far, our long weekend has been splendid.  Our friends H & A were visiting from Cleveland and stayed with us.  It's been so nice - like a proper do-over of our squandered March Break.  We ate, we played Pandemic (and won!), we hung out, the boys drank bourbon, my street had our annual Easter Egg Hunt, we went for dinner at Playa Cabana Barrio Coreano:

How cute is my street?  

On Saturday night, the Big Yam came downstairs, and asked me, "Mama, where does the Easter Bunny live?" trailed by the Dotytron giving us the "What was I supposed to say?!?" face and shrugged shoulders.  Parenting Tip: try to anticipate these kinds of questions so that your story checks out and it's consistent.  We said Easter Island.  We don't have a house where the Easter Bunny comes and gives out mad stuff.  I saw one of the Dotytron's cousins had this giant set-up for their kids with Easter baskets and matching mom-and-daughter Hunter rain boots (!) and a strider bike from the Easter Bunny.  WHAT. THE. F**K.  Are you f**king kidding me?  NOT A THING.  I love that the Big Yam has no concept of want.  He got owned at the hunt and came back with the fewest eggs and then asked to open one, ate a chocolate, and then promptly forgot about them in favour of watching BBC's Blue Planet on the iPad, which is his new obsession.  

Belated 10 month Wonder Twin growth pic

Looks who's doing THIS now?!? Lindsay Lou-Lou basically learned to crawl about two weeks ago, and then promptly started doing what you see up there, all the time.  Quincess continues to do his backwards inchworm/sliding on the back of his head technique.  He's really fast at it, so I'm beginning to lose hope that he'll ever learn to crawl properly.  He turns and pivots and kicks off from a stationary object when he needs extra leverage.  He'll stop and check to make sure he's going in the right direction and then continue on his way.  It's hilarious, but also not physiotherapist approved.

Says you.

Fin.

J.C.'s Weekend

Praise be the higher power (if they exist), our daycare provider is back from vacation!  Regular life resumes!  This is negative for me because it means I'm back on duty getting the Big Yam ready in the morning, but good for the family as a whole because it means we don't have to keep patching together a network of care.  Plus, it's just nice to be back in the regular routine of life, with an orderly schedule and whatnot.  It's good for everyone, but me in particular, because schedules and order are my talismans against the capriciousness of living.  

We couldn't possibly have had a better weekend.  It was soooo nice.  Four day weekends are bliss piled upon bliss.  They are especially so when your family obligations are neatly wrapped up on the first day (we had dinner with Momma D and my mum decamped to do some cross-border shopping in the States so we were off the hook with my family) and you have nothing but aimless days filled with some household chores and some dinner preparation and some friend visiting (but not too much).  It was perfect.  We cooked and cleaned and napped and relaxed.  There was a flurry of activity yesterday, spurred by my receiving my weekly pregnancy-email update.  According to Baby Centre, at 23 weeks the twerps are now considered "viable" (that is, if they were born now, they would be disgusting jellybean quarterly baby Voldemorts, but have a high statistical probability of survival).  The word "viable" resulted in me yelling at the Dotytron and rhyming off a nonsensical list of tasks great and small that I, in my fevered nesting state, would like to see accomplished.  The list included everything from doing something with the speakers and bass bin that had been plopped unceremoniously on top of my cherished rosewood buffet, to buying the minivan, to like, remortgaging the house, to cleaning the basement, to organizing extra cables and labelling them.  I went cuckoo, admittedly.  

The Dotytron was a peach and tried to stem the tide of hormonal anxiety by writing up a list of things to do, which culminated in "contract gonorrhea." 

We got a good chunk of business done and reorganized the basement some more and put things away so that they made sense for access.  The speakers and bass bin (what I jokingly refer to as the "Valve Soundsystem") have been rendered slightly less unsightly in a show of compromise between the Dotytron's quest for audio fidelity and my quest for harmonious living room aesthetics.

The Big Yam got (another) ear infection.  At least now he can tell us, although I'm not sure that hearing him plaintively cry, "My ear hurts, my ear!" is an improvement because it kind of breaks your heart.  He was a trooper though.  We pulled him in for Sleep Away Camp and dosed him with painkillers until we could see our doctor and he rallied enough to participate in the Annual Street Easter Egg Hunt.  This year we ramped it up.  I made breakfasty/sweet bread/snacky type things and someone bought coffee from Starbucks and someone else brought fruit and juice and cups.  The hunt was over in about half an hour, but we got an awesome group shot with all the kidlets on the street and then everyone stayed outside for another hour or two while the kids rode their bikes and the adults chiefed it up.  So cute!

We went to our friends' house for a tapas meal (I think there were like, 10 different dishes?  And cava?  And red and white wine?)  and caught up with our amazingly talented, interesting, intelligent, and engaged high school cronies.  Sometimes, when I take a look around at all the amazing people in my life, I feel so incredibly lucky to be able to count so many smart, talented people as friends - old and new.  As someone who thrives on conversation, debate, philosophizing, and taking the world apart and (trying) to put it back together again in a way that makes sense and is reflexive, honest, thoughtful, and conscious, gatherings where hours of wide-ranging conversation disappear in what seems like minutes are the stuff that I live for.  We came back from that lunch feeling very lucky, very loved, and very, very full.  

The Big Yam is so so so delightful right now.  Basically, if he's not whining, everything he says/does right now tears us to pieces with cuteness.  A small sampling:

- Washing the dishes from dinner, over the sounds of the tap and the suds, the Dotytron and I heard a very grave, "Mama, I'm not happy with you" from the Big Yam, who at the time was preoccupied with hopping on the couch in his jammies.

- He likes to put me to bed on the living room couch, which includes pulling a blanket around me, singing "Blackbird," and more often than not, him climbing up on the couch to snuggle in next to me with a: "I want to be cozy" or "I want tickles."  

- There is lots of dancing, all the time, and the newest iteration of his dancing style is hilarious.  

- "Mama, can I have butter on my bread?"  "Yes, I'll give you some."  "I want aaaaaaaaaaaa-lot."

He really is the best.  I was tired yesterday and fell asleep and missed the bedtime routine, despite the Big Yam's exhortations that "Mama, come!" I just couldn't move from the couch.  Then when I finally roused an hour later, I felt so guilty.  It was definitely hormonal but I was so sad.  I know you love all your kids (hopefully?) but there are times when I can't fathom loving the twerps as much as I love the Big Yam.  Or at the very least, I don't know where the extra love comes from.  I'm also trying to be very conscious that our time together where it's just us and him is limited and soon he's going to have to share us and we'll have to share ourselves and him with his siblings and it's going to be so different.  I don't know how you pay attention to all the little details of your kids when you have more than one.  I don't know how you find the time to give them the love and support and learning opportunities that make them grow when you have more than one.  

I don't know the twerps.  I know the Big Yam and I find myself being hyper-protective of our relationship.  I don't really know how you find the time/energy to make more than one kid feel special and awesome.  Two at the same time?  How the heck does that work?  I know this is something all parents with more than one kid grapple with.  I also know that this is me being a hormonal mess.  Still, it eats away at me a bit each day that goes by as we move closer and closer to imminent twerp arrival, especially when I'm reading stories to and being cozy with and  planting kisses on my sweet little Boobla.  

'Twas a weekend of good eats:

Saturday morning breakfast - oat & whole wheat scones with Devon cream & my concord grape jelly.

The craving for crispy fish & tartar sauce continues apace: sweet potato oven fries, a dilled cucumber salad, and a panko-crusted salmon burger with arugula, tomato, and tartar sauce on a buttered toasted bun (you'll notice my attempt to be low-carb by only eating half a bun).  This recipe for sweet potato oven fries produced the best version we've ever had.  All you have to do is soak your cut sweet potatoes in advance (to take out the extra starch, I'm guessing) and then drain them and dry them on a towel.  Then you put them in a paper bag with some cornstarch, shake it around so they get all coated.  Toss the coated fries in a bowl and toss with oil.  Season and bake in a 450F oven until crispy, turning halfway through.  

You'll then notice how I completely went ultra-mega-carbs by making Bouchon Bakery's TKO's - their take on the Oreo cookie, aka the most sinfully delicious, salty-sweet, rich thing in all of existence.  I dream of this cookie.  I rolled my dough out a little thick, but with a cold glass of milk, there are few things better.

My new favorite healthy lunch, inspired by some cheap brie I scooped with Dr. Rei on our lunchtime travels last week - pan-toasted sourdough bread, with my homemade tomato jam, some sliced red onion, some avocado, and melted brie on top.  Sided with more cucumber salad.

We closed out the weekend with breaded cod sandwiches, sweet potato latkes with apple sauce and chili mayo, and a broccoli, red onion, and almond salad.

Tonight we had Spanish style braised tripe with chickpeas and chorizo, served with warmed crusty bread for dipping.  I love me some tripe and it was nice to have the day off yesterday to prep it so it only had to be reheated today.  Recipe below.

Fin.

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Spanish Style Tripe with Chickpeas

serves 4-6

3 lbs tripe, cleaned and cut into 1" strips

2 T. white vinegar

1 c. dried chickpeas, soaked overnight

2 links semi-cured chorizo (not completely dried, not the fresh kind either, I get mine from Segovia in Kensington)

1 large Spanish onion, sliced thin

4-5 cloves of garlic, minced

1 T. Spanish smoked paprika

pinch saffron 

1/2 can of tomato paste

salt and pepper to taste

- in a fairly large pot, put the tripe, the vinegar, and just enough water to barely cover the tripe.

- bring this to a boil, then skim the scum off the surface and drain the tripe.

- heat enough olive/canola oil to cover the bottom of a heavy dutch oven and sauté the chorizo over medium-high heat until it starts to render.  

- add the onions and sweat, add the minced garlic, the spices, and the tomato paste and cook out.

- add the chickpeas and tripe and about 4 cups of water. 

- bring to a simmer, reduce heat to a bare, bare simmer and cook the mixture with the lid on for about 3 hours, or until the tripe is tender, stirring occasionally.  Add water as needed to reach desired consistency (I like it to be a mostly thick stew with just a bit of extra gravy).  Season to taste with salt and pepper.

The resurrection of Christos Maximos

is a joyful time, befitting tranquil reflection on the power of miracles and all the goodness that is the Lord.

...OR it's a time to dress up your kid in a Michael Jordan onesie with matching skull cap, courtesy of Mhui:

BEST. OUTFIT. EVER.

This weekend was cray-cray. My bro, Bruce Wayne had all these health problems that resulted in him spending a chunk of the weekend in emergency and then having his gall bladder removed. We had the Easter Egg hunt, which went well - but will require minor tinkering for next year (I will be more strict about the shotgun start and I will fill my eggs with stickers so that the little ones aren't super-hyped up on chocolate). Then we had Dr. Rei over for a hilarious brunch of spinach & cheddar waffles topped with poached eggs & hollandaise and served with maple cranberry breakfast sausages from the Mennonites:

Saturday morning we took Poh Poh and my mom out to lunch at Phoenix - I couldn't possibly love that restaurant MORE. It's insane how much I love that place. Then headed back downtown and did a top-to-bottom house clean in preparation for TPat's arrival from Vancouver. Sunday was a brunch of Spanish torta (sliced potato omelet) that I gussied up with red pepper & crumbled Bob Evans sausage and topped with salsa verde:

Then homework for the Dotytron and myself and Easter dinner with Momma D's side of the family (I baked a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting but did not take a photo.) Monday was the final round of housecleaning, homework, and the Big Yam's first time on a swing:

His little feet kicking up slay me. For dinner last night I made us a warm chickpea salad with spinach, topped with seared flat iron steak with salsa verde:

I also resurrected my starter after a YEAR in cryo and made 2 rosemary olive olive oil boules which turned out to be my most successful breads to date. The olive oil results in a slightly tighter mie for the bread and a tender crust. I also adjusted for the fact that our house is cold with longer resting times than the recipe (courtesy of my bread-baking idol, Nancy Silverton's Breads from La Brea Bakery) called for - with amazing results. I'm so proud!

Finally, we finished off our Easter weekend with a couple Thomas Keller oreo cookies. I fell in love with the TKO from Bouchon when I was last in NYC - it's a superlative rendition of the Mr. Christie classic. The recipe yields a HEAVENLY salty chocolate sablé cookie that crumbles just so around a (too sweet - will adjust the amount of white chocolate) whipped white chocolate cream. I don't normally spend time fussing with sandwich cookies - I generally hate the low yield and the multiple steps (rolling & cutting & piping filling?!?) but these I will definitely make again. I love the hit of salt and the deep, rich chocolate flavour - which was obtained with bulk store cocoa powder, despite the exhortations from the ENTIRE WORLD to use "the best quality" cocoa powder one could find:

TPat comes this afternoon! Yay!!! So excited for her visit - although I am bummed that she will be spending a week in Toronto that's supposed to be full of thundershowers.

Tonight for dinner I'm making us roasted asparagus tartines (French open faced "sandwiches" of toasted bread and toppings) with poached eggs and parmesan cream with a mixed green salad of roasted beet, horseradish cheddar, and maple vinaigrette.

Fin.