Green Beans are good for you, M+Ms are good for me

daphne on September 14, 2009

I realize that the following admission might call into question my rightful ownership of the domain Greener Biener (it IS pronounced bean-er,) as indeed it is true that no green beans were consumed by me in the making of this site.  Green M+Ms? For sure.  Green Beans? No thank you.

I was not a kid who fluttered with thoughts of a perfect wedding, nor did I trace the names of my future children onto my notebooks.  The stuff of my dreams was heftier:  One day I would be the boss of my vegetable domain.  I would choose which healthy stuff to eat and which to show the door.  It would be glorious.

When I grew up I would not eat green beans.  No one could make me.  So there.

In those early dreams of a bean-free future, I didn’t figure on joining a CSA as a ploy to convince myself to sample otherwise ignored vegetables.  Nor did I factor in the possibility that I’d be surrounded by a bunch of green bean-eating traitors.

Yesterday I had a day.  The kind of day that should only be concluded with a dinner of red wine and M+Ms.  But it was not to be.  For there was a family to feed and daughters for whom an example must be set.  Apparently there was also a husband who thought it’d be cute to add green beans to an otherwise innocuous spinach salad.

I kid you not.  He added green beans to my salad.

Normally he’s a decent guy. A really good guy who pitches in and spends time with the kids and helps with dinner and all that jazz. He’s even agreed to dress as a cowboy for Halloween, so you know he’s got my best interest at heart.  Of course I was blindsided  by his staggeringly despicable bean transgression.

I did what any whiny toddler self-possessed woman would do. I wrinkled my nose and plucked the offensive things from my plate. Oh, I was sly. The children would never know that mommy gets dessert without finishing her veggies.

“WHO’S BEANS ARE THESE?” Dave bellowed, in a blatant attempt to rat me out.  I glowered at him, expressing with one evil eye how I felt about his egregious choice of broadcasting my action around the kitchen.

The kids remained oblivious.  Kira shrugged and munched contentedly.  Acadia dipped a bean in ranch dressing.  I played like I had already devoured my share.

But now they’ve got me rethinking this whole anti-bean campaign.  After all, the girls really seem to enjoy the snappy green things.  And they are loaded with all that good stuff that makes for heart-healthy, bone-strong little bodies.

Ahh, what the heck?  Let them eat beans.

But please, oh please, leave me to my M+Ms.

Take my cauliflower, please

daphne on August 30, 2008

Really. Please, take it. It is so totally icky.

I have come a long way from my days of subsiding on nothing more than vanilla yogurt (my childhood motto: have Dannon will travel) and my ironclad stubborn refusal to try anything new. Part of the idea behind joining a CSA (don’t remember what this is? I revealed the mystery of that acronym here ) was bravely tasting whatever the farmer picked for us each week. You know, choking down broccoli in the name of family harmony and health.

The kids are on board, facing up to beets disguised as french fries and taking at least a no-thank-you sized bite of whatever arrives in the red mesh bags. The abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables has been incredible. Check out the pile of produce we pulled in this week:

Gorgeous right? The peaches, divine. Farm fresh corn? The best. And the melons, don’t even get me started on the melons. But the cauliflower? Yuck. I’m digging my heels in. Cauliflower is yucky.

But it is abundant. Last week’s portion allowed me to be neighborly. I sent it home with the babysitter. The week before I placed it benevolently in the donation pile for the homeless shelter. I suppose I should be honest; I haven’t even tried the stuff. I can’t (see above yucky reason for clarification.) I know, I know, the children graciously swallow their bites of whatever bizarro veggie I put in front of them so why am I such a hypocrite?

Because I said so, that’s why. Because I’m a grown up and as far as I’m concerned passing on cauliflower is a privilege of adulthood. I don’t stay up late. I don’t see scary movies. I don’t eat cake for breakfast (well, except for very special occasions.) This is my thing. So there.

Anyway, does anyone want a head of cauliflower? It’s farm-fresh-fabulous, and it’s yours for free.

Update from the bachelor-pad: It’s ladies night! I don’t know whether it was the free drinks or the sugar and spice, but the ladies have finally made an appearance. Here’s one

And right down the vine is her lovely friend:

And another lady who has already snagged her man, done the deed, and is growing an adorable little squash. Mmmmm, can’t wait to snuggle that little babe in a little olive oil and brown sugar.

Meanwhile, the dating game may just gearing up for the squash, but the cucumbers are going wild. We’ve eaten about eight of the sweet treats so far, and there are close to 15 more on the vine. For the uninitiated, here’s a peek at a newby cuc:

Honey I tricked the kids

daphne on July 19, 2008

Picky eaters are the worst. I should know, I used to be one.

As a kid I hated all things edible, except one. Back in the day I would have traded my baby brother for a bowl of frozen strawberries (ok, I would have traded him for a black eye, but that’s a different story.) And when I say frozen strawberries, I’m not talking about the good wholesome Whole Foods type of berries. I’m talking old school, the kind that came soaked in sugared syrup and frozen in a cardboard box with a tin roof. It was my preferred form of sustenance and I was a blissful child, until one day, while eagerly awaiting dessert, this: Imagine, the bubbling hot defrosted berries were en route to the table when suddenly, out of nowhere, my mean ole ma grinned and said:

Oh, these? Nope these are most definitely not strawberries. Sure, they look like strawberries. They smell like strawberries. They even taste exactly like strawberries. But it’s rhubarb. Yes, rhubarb. Go on, try some.

I struggled. I sniffed the bowl. I swear I wanted to taste, but I couldn’t do it. Thanks to Mom’s trickery (and a stubborn streak that multiplies with each subsequent generation) I refused to eat my favorite dessert. But hey, no hard feelings ma. You did what you had to do, right?

As a parent now myself to a couple of stubborn, non-eaters, I too have succumbed to tricking my kids. But here’s the thing: I try to trick them INTO eating; and I will do whatever it takes.

Apparently, hiding veggies from children is controversial, especially since Jessica Seinfeld released Deceptively Delicious, a cookbook for parents of picky eaters. With it, the line in the sand was drawn between parents who believe children should be forced to fork their foliage in full awareness, and those of us who rub our evil hands together as we gleefully watch the kiddies consume hidden veggies and try not to scream, “Ah-hah! Gotcha!” with each green that sneaks stealthily down an unwilling throat.

I have not seen Seinfeld’s cookbook, but I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.

Check out these Zebra Fries my kids gobbled down. Shhhh, want to know a secret? They’re really beets. Really. Beets. Aren’t they beautiful? Sliced into fry-shapes, they’re not even scary.

Hey, while we’re at it, anyone up for a Confetti Cookie?

What’s in the world is a Confetti Cookie? Simple, it’s a chocolate chip cookie with pretty green streamers running through it. (Off the record? Those tiny green stripes are shredded zucchini, but I won’t tell if you don’t.) I borrowed the recipe from Barbara Kingsolver’s book (and my bible) Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.

Vegetables? What vegetables? Just smile, and have another cookie my dear. You can trust me, I’m not hiding any greens up my sleeves.

Zebra Fries

daphne on July 19, 2008

These beautiful fries are made from beets (we used Chioggia beets because they came in our CSA packet, but we’ve been known to disguise any root veggie as a “pretty fry”)

  • Slice beets into shoestring fry shapes.
  • Toss with a little oil (we use canola) and some salt.
  • Arrange on greased cookie sheet in a single layer.
  • Roast in the oven at 425° until crispy, about 35 minutes.

For a grown-up version I use olive oil and garlic, and toss in some sliced sage leaves as well. They are yummy!

Raspberry Parfaits

daphne on July 14, 2008

This is a trick, but it’s one my kids fall for and adore and best of all devour, so what’s the harm? I’ll even make them in a wine glass, which makes them feel grown-up and seems to encourage even more eating.

Ingredients:

  • Yogurt–Plain Greek yogurt (Faje) is my kids favorite, but tends to be pricey unless you hit a sale, but any kind will work.
  • Raspberries
  • Sliced bananas
  • Wheat germ or ground Flax seed – blends in well and adds nutrition without offending young taste buds
  • Diced nuts (optional)

Start with the yogurt and then add the fruit, nuts and seeds in alternating layers. Top with a dollop of yogurt and a berry.

Sometimes I’ll hide a single chocolate chip in one of the layers. The kids act like they’ve struck gold when they find it.