I’ll take one latte…and 23 fifth graders please

daphne on March 26, 2009

According to my best friend forever, Michelle, it’s time to get moving on this year’s garden.  Right-o, let me see; I need 27 starter potatoes, a pack of cucumber seeds, a roto-tiller, and HOLD THE PHONE!  I’m going about this all wrong.  Forget the roto-tiller, I’ll take an iced latte and 23 fifth graders.

Michelle Obama (you know? my BFF,) had the most fabulous idea.  Actually, I think I’ll grab credit for the garden idea.  I have been telling her forever that ripping up that useless, chemically-dependent rolling green lawn in favor of an organic kitchen garden is the way to go.

She came up with fifth grader part, but adding in the latte was all me.  I’m civilized like that.

Honestly, the First Lady may not be totally aware of our budding friendship just yet.  It is an inevitability once she learns how much we have in common.  We both have two daughters who enjoy a nice game of bowling (although her’s play the video game while mine rock the real deal.)

Not for nothing, but my kids do rock the bowling alley with style.  And grace.  What’s better than a sport that can be played sitting down?

I digress.

I was demonstrating the leagues of things that Michelle O and I have in common.  For instance, we both are concerned with getting our kids to eat well.  We both have been know to say things like “You can begin in your own cupboard by eliminating processed food, trying to cook a meal a little more often, trying to incorporate more fruits and vegetables.”

Granted she said it to The NY Times, and I say it mostly to the swaths of prisoners I keep chained in my kitchen well-intentioned friends who drop by for a cup of coffee.

To top it all off, I just know our husbands would get along. They both play basketball and in their spare time serve as leaders of the free world.  True, Dave’s record on influencing foreign dignitaries is less than impressive, but his jump shot is all that and a bag of organic chips.   Not that the President should read that as a challenge.  Dave is much to busy organizing fifth graders in our back yard to fly to DC for a game of pick-up.

Ok then. Now that I have seamlessly covered organic gardening, politics, basketball, bowling, fifth graders, and lattes I can get back to that point I was trying to make…

Sorry, no time for points.  Let me sum up:

  1. Rip up your lawn.
  2. Plant a garden.
  3. Put a fifth grader (or twenty-three) to work.
  4. Sit back, relax, and participate in your local bring-a-family-bowling-night.

The 2009 Bring-A-Family-Bowling Winners

Nice looking group, right?  I can’t make any promises, Michelle; but the Obamas do have a decent chance at becoming next year’s lucky recipients.  (Don’t worry about skill; we’re all here to have fun.  Besides, I’m pretty sure that only the youngest in our group scored upward of 50 points.)

Changes in altitude, plenty of attitude

daphne on March 23, 2009

This weekend brought not only the first day of a spring break full of sassy pre-pre-teen attitude, but also the first day of spring.  Eternal optimist that I’m known to be, I chose to focus on welcoming the new season, and not on the emotional trip that is repetitive eye-rolling.  I’m a glass half full kind of gal that way.  Anyway, first day of spring…picnic time, right?  Well, that’s pretty much what we did. Only we did it slope-side.

Because one of the key benefits of waiting until mid-March to hit the slopes for the first time is the beautiful sunshiny weather.  And really, with skies so blue and trees so green the dark brown stink eye from my eight-year old pretty much just rolled right off my back.

Once we sat out the time-outs and got the group up the mountain, there really were no complaints from the happy campers.  At least during the second and a half that it took to snap this picture.

Even old grouchy eyes set her attitude aside for a little while.  Long enough to flash me this smile on the chairlift.

With smiles all around we thought it best to call it quits on the early side, get out before things got ugly.   Theoretically that is.  We actually called it quits when they sank down into the mashed potato-like late season snow and couldn’t muster the power to get back up.  The whiny sirens of tired children rang out across the mountain-tops, and we packed it in.

Which got us back home with plenty of time to hit the yard and get down to work.  We raked and snipped and watered and cut back the beautiful dried grasses so that now everything looks pretty awful.  Dried out and shriveled up and just waiting.  Brown ugly springtime.  Well, except for the rhubarb.  I know rhubarb and I have our history, but I really have come to love this stuff.  It’s predictable. It’s tasty.  And up it pops, no matter what—

The raspberries are putting out their buds too.  It is interesting that even as I renew my pledge to pay more attention to the healthy vegetables in my life, it is the sweet dessert ingredients that never fail me. They require nothing, and they deliver year after year insisting only that I promise to eat my dessert.

And that’s a promise I’m willing to make.

Spring, sprouting and flinging all over the place

daphne on March 15, 2009

Sometimes nature is cruel. Other times, while it’d be an exaggeration to call nature cruel, she’s not exactly helping things by subtly antagonizing the underlying issues of sibling rivalry.

Thanks, nature, for this.  One more reason to pit sister against sister in the eternal contest for who is best.

Allow me to settle the question equitably, in the interest of protecting their loving sisterly relationship.  IT’S ME! I’M THE BEST. LOOK WHAT I DID!

Yesiree–that’s a tulip. Or a daffodil.  Or something posing as a flower-to-be in exactly the same spot where I presciently dropped bulbs about a million years ago.

As I mentioned already, I was not all that excited about digging in the dirt as the first hints of winter swirled through the air.  It’s unreasonable to have to wait season upon season for something to rear it’s lovely head.  Like a pinata that you smack in the midst of a party and then wait and wait and wait and then finally as you are growing weary of all the waiting you are showered by a cascade of delicious snacks. Oh the joy.

Would you look at that?  Time, as they promised, has flown.

I was wrong to be smug about the waiting. It’s a delightful treat after all these months to get something as magical, as beautifully incredible and special as this:

Really. That’s two sprouts.  Try to contain your excitement.

I’m sorry, but did I hear a GET REAL?  Am I sensing a lack of bubbling enthusiasm over the little nubs that are popping from the earth in front of my house due solely, I remind you, to my brilliant foresight?  Fine.  I’m no dummy.  I know not everything can be chard crisps and amphibian sex.  You remember frog sex, don’t you?

I don’t mean to lead you on.  Springy though it may be, I am not going to delve back in to the birds and the bees.

But guess what boys and girls?  It is time again for the annual elementary school Spring Fling.  Seems like just yesterday that we boogie-oogie-oogied ’til we just couldn’t boogie no more.  This year it was time to spring back to the most totally boss, righteously bitchin’ decade of them all…the 80s!  Here are the two cutest valley girls of the year–

Give me a break before I gag you with a spoon. I know what you’re thinking, and no, I did not send Acadia to her school dance wearing a shirt that says Eat Flax.  I’m the real deal, baby.  All eighties, all the time. Her t-shirt, of course, reads Frankie says… RELAX as it flash-dancingly dips over one shoulder.

My family, much like spring itself, is so totally tubular.

Happy Bodacious Spring.

In support of delusions all the same

daphne on March 10, 2009

Thank you for asking, but no, I am not going to Australia. I am not going to work and live on the islands of the Great Barrier Reef.  And yes, I too am floored by the audacity of this rejection at the hands of the tourism council of Queensland. I simply cannot understand their blasé willingness to pass on the incredible opportunity of me.

This is not me, snorkeling in the crystalline waters of the Great Barrier Reef.

I know, it’s hard to comprehend.  I also believed myself to be the ideal candidate for the best job in the world.  With my zest for life, my Oscar worthy video application and my astonishing capacity for rhyme, I had all but packed my bags when I heard the shocking news:  I was not chosen to assume the responsibilities of island caretaker in the Great Barrier Reef.

As it turns out I will not be whisking my family away for six blissful months of life in the land down under.

And though my musings were sure to be well-informed, witty and succinct, I will not be paid unfathomable sums to write about the adventures I would have had on the island and frolicking about in the surrounding waters.

My children will not grow bronzed beneath the southern sun as they forge friendships with the brilliantly colored creatures beneath the sea.

I am disappointed. Of course I am.  I am still clicking around on the website, for pete’s sake, scanning it for the clue that will elucidate the massive error in judgment that has me sitting here in suburbia while someone else, most likely this singing and dancing Canadian, lives out my life’s dream.

What am I doing here?  I look so much cuter in my mask and snorkel.

Ah well, it was a blast while it lasted.  And even if it did only play out in the fantastical theater of my head, it was a damn good show.  And just so you know, I’m still a big fan of obsessions. They come in handy for someone who favors life with her head in the clouds over sunnier shores.

Sure, I’m disappointed, but it’s alright.  It’s to be expected from time to time when you’re delusional.

Besides, my perfect island is out there, somewhere.  I just need to find it.

Chard, the thing that makes you say Mmmm (really!)

daphne on March 4, 2009

I am shocked. I had been wracking my brain trying desperately to write something garden-y amid late winter doldrums that would somehow resonate, and Bam! I hit the health-food jackpot. The outpouring in support of chard, sleeper vegetable of the year, has been overwhelming.

Here I was bravely choking down the stuff in the name of health when there are hundreds upon thousands of chard fanatics with a deep understanding of this under-appreciated vegetable.  You already knew why to serve it.  You even know how to grow it.  But more to the point, you really know how it should be eaten.  Hint: it can be crunchy!

Ok, crunchy chard. I am intrigued…go on. Where will this wacky nutritious hero pop up next?

Funny I should ask myself, because I happen to have an answer.  With summer just around the corner (and down the street and around the bend) thoughts turn to carnivals (work with me here.)  Blue skies, balloons, and loads of good clean American deep-fried fun.  Wait, hear me out.  I’m not suggesting you call it quits and break out the fryer, I’m simple setting the scene for our new crunchy, healthy friend….

Speaking of friends, my friend Annie is incredible.  Awesome, amazing Annie. She’s a magician who miraculously took our bitter, vitamin-packed pal and presto! change-o! Turned it into a crispy, carnival-worthy, snickity old snack.

And here, for the first time in North America, Annie has willingly revealed her secret for changing a nutrient packed yuck into a nutrient-packed yum.

Now I’m not going to lie to you. This recipe works best if you’ve got a top hat and a long black cape lined in purple satin.  Of course you can try it wearing jeans and a t-shirt.  Results may vary.

(Worried about me?  Think I’m showing just a bit too much enthusiasm for chard? Perhaps, but it has been a long winter.  And all I’m asking is that you try it first. Then come on back and judge me.)

1.    Wash the chard.
2.    Slice and remove the stalks. Set aside for salads or other recipe.
3.    Slice the leaves in half or quarters. Set aside to dry.

You’ll need a light dressing.  Mine was a simple vinaigrette, but anything will do; whatever you’ve got got in the house or throw together some of your favorite flavors.  I made a tray plain for the girls, with just a little oil and salt.

Mix together the dressing:
•    ½ cup Olive oil
•    ¼ cup Balsamic vinegar
•    1-2 Tbsp Mustard
•    2-3 Tbsp crushed garlic
•    Salt and pepper to taste.

1.    Toss the chard leaves in the dressing. Make sure to coat the leaves but they should not be drenched.
2.    Lay the chard flat on a greased baking sheet.
3.    Sprinkle with a little salt.

Bake for 7-8 minutes in 375° oven.  Watch closely so leaves crisp but don’t char.

Your guests, even your children, will be amazed!

Annie’s Magical Chard Chips

daphne on March 4, 2009

My daughter actually said this last night:

Mom, can I eat the chard now, or do I have to wait for dinner?

I kid you not, this is good stuff.  Even I’ve been eating my greens lately; it’s that good.

Ingredients: Olive oil, chard, salt

Wash chard, and blot – leave it a little bit damp.
Slice and remove the stalks. Set aside for salads or other recipe.
Slice the leaves in half or quarters.

Drizzle oil on a baking sheet, and arrange the chard in a single layer.

Sprinkle with salt.

Bake for 7-8 minutes in 400° oven.

Watch closely so leaves crisp but don’t char.  Eat as is or dip in your favorite dressing.