Pretty please with chard on top

Rainbow chard is the prima donna of the produce aisle. Just take a look at this princess of a vegetable–

You should see its colors pop against the other dull greens stacked in the produce aisle.  Here, in the middle of February, when everything else seems shades of tan, the chard looks exotic.  It’s no wonder the children clamor for nibble. But children have to learn that throwing a temper tantrum and begging is simply not appropriate grocery store behavior.  No matter how much they want that veggie.

Of course I jest.  If my kids express even the most remote interest in a food that falls into a green category, I’m all for it.  So when I left it up to them to choose a veggie for the night, they were drawn to the amazing technicolor dream-chard.  No contest. How could boring broccoli even hope to hold a candle to such a dazzling veggie?

I thought it at best a begrudging choice, but then something incredible happened.  We were tucking into our Friday night movie and popcorn when Acadia spoke. Five years and counting and I still never know what may come out of that child’s mouth.

I don’t want any popcorn.  Can I have some chard instead? The purple leaf, please?

I kid you not.  The child asked for a leafy snack.  And said please.

Acadia’s movie treat aside, chard is a tough chew.  It looks a little like spinach, but the leaves are thicker, waxier and denser.  Still, there are ways to get the whole family to eat it, and receive a heaping dose of the good stuff in the process.  But chard is more than just a pretty face; it’s jam packed with good stuff.

Swiss chard is good for your lungs, bones and heart.  It’s a notorious cancer fighter.  It’s loaded with fiber, and vitamin K, vitamin A, vitamin C, magnesium, manganese, potassium, iron, and vitamin E.   And copper, calcium, vitamin B2, vitamin B6, protein, phosphorus, vitamin B1, zinc, folate, biotin, niacin and pantothenic acid.

Not familiar with that last one? Lucky you have me, and lucky me, I have wikipedia.  Pantothenic acid is another name for vitamin B5, a water-soluble vitamin required to sustain life. Sustaining life is good.

And I thought the biggest triumph of the Swiss was Toblerone chocolate.  Mmm, Toblerone.  So so good.  But I digress…

On a return trip to the store this weekend I giddily pointed out the chard,  and graciously offered to buy more for my young connoisseur.

Uh, no thanks mom.  I don’t need any.

Oh, well.  It was a good thing while it lasted.


The Celery is Coming, The Celery is Coming

Run for your lives!

Yes, I know that there’s plenty to be scared of these days.  Is it irresponsible for me to heap insult atop the terrifying fear that grips so many of us regarding the very future of our families, our country, our whole suffering planet?  Sorry, I’m just telling it like I see it.  And frankly, if you’re not already a little jittery around veggies, this is the stuff of nightmares. After years of playing second fiddle to the ever-popular carrot, celery has gone mad.

Following our final CSA delivery, Kira got a little too close, drawn in no doubt by the frilly fronds of this 30 lb menace. No worries, my parenting instincts kicked in, and I knocked the monster to the floor, protecting my darling daughter from the green hulk.

Seriously. That’s celery.  And at no more than half a dozen months old, it’s practically engulfing my seven year old.  What on earth has it been eating?

If you look closely you can see the anxiety behind Kira’s smile/grimace. No doubt she’s thinking that if the vegetables have been breeding for superior size trouble is close at hand.  Think of the poor poor chocolates.  What chance does a mere cookie hold against greens bent on global domination?

What’s that? Have I gone too far?  Too much on your plate these days to increase your worry to include our imminent demise by celery?  OK, I can see that.  Perhaps I should be doing my part to ease the pre-election pressure.  How about this?   I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s been way too long since my last Gratuitous Picture of a Cow. I love the cows.

Meet Bessie, a proud milker-to-be. I met her on the Kindergarten Pumpkin Patch field trip which I found informative and interesting. (Acadia’s take: no snacks=no fun.)  At one year, Bessie is serenely awaiting her bovine prince charming, who will arrive in the form of artificial insemination.  After the romance has cleared, Bessie will be ready for a lifetime of providing milk to happy little children.  Thanks, Bess.