Writer's block

I got nuthin. Sorry folks. Check back later.

Why blog about not blogging? In case you thought I was dead, or that I'd given up blogging for Lent, or that I'd gone on a trek to the Himalayas to meditate and become a better writer. Nope. Just nothing there.

Big Batch Vegetable Soup

Ok, yes, we do requests here at 4 Boy Dad. Here is our recipe for Big Batch Vegetable Soup. (It's not actually mine, it's from Martha Stewart's Everyday Food, which is a wonderful little recipe-only magazine).

Big-Batch Vegetable Soup

This recipe can be halved, doubled, etc., depending on how many folks you are feeding.

1-2 chicken breast(s)
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 chopped medium onions
1 cup thinly sliced celery (if you like celery; I don’t so I never put it in)
1-5 mashed garlic cloves (depending on how much you like garlic)
a generous pinch of basil
a generous pinch of oregano
salt & pepper to taste
2 chicken bouillon cubes
1 can (28 ounces) diced tomatoes, with juice (our farmer’s market has these wonderful fire roasted tomatoes; I use those; if you really like tomatoes, use two big cans, mmmmm)
8 cups mixed fresh or frozen vegetables (Publix has a good selection of big bags – 32 oz. - of frozen veggies; I use two of those)

1. Bring 5 cups of water to boil in a large stockpot, add pinch of salt, a little olive oil, and the chicken breast. Cover and boil chicken until cooked, and retain the remaining water

2. While chicken is boiling, heat remaining olive oil in a large stockpot over medium heat. Add onions, celery (yech), garlic, basil, and oregano; season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring frequently, until onions are translucent, 5 to 8 minutes.

3. The chicken should be done now. Remove chicken to a plate and cover. Add remaining chicken-water, tomatoes and their juice, bouillon cubes, and 2 additional cups water to pot; bring mixture to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer, and cook, uncovered, 20 minutes.

4. While the soup is simmering, roughly chop the chicken into chunks and add them to the soup.

5. After 20 minutes (or so) add vegetables to pot, and return to a simmer. Cook, uncovered, until vegetables are tender, 20 to 25 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, as desired.

Martha’s folks say: Freeze this thick and chunky soup now, and you’ll have the makings of quick and nutritious meals for months to come. Place soup in small containers, and then pull out only what you need; there’s no need to thaw the soup before reheating.

Some notes:

• Don't use anything that can get really squishy, like zucchini or potatoes, especially if you're going to freeze or store this as leftovers. Eww.
• A good variation is that, instead of boiling the chicken and using the broth, brown the chicken instead in the same pot you're going to cook the soup in. Then remove the chicken, add a little more oil and then continue on from step 2 as normal. You'll need to use 6-7 cups of water in step 3 in place of the chicken-water.
  

At our church, whenever someone has a Big Life Event (new baby, severe illness, death in the family, etc.) their Sunday School class usually organizes to take food over to the person's house. The normal "run" is every other day for two weeks.

In our old newlywed class (which we came to call Breeders), this happened a lot, what with all the breeding that did indeed go on (suffice it to say that we are not alone in our 4 child-dom). Usually, people made some sort of pasta or casserole.

But 2 weeks of pasta can get old pretty quick, and it's a shame to have to make requests of someone who's making extra food for you and delivering to you instead of eating their own dinner or tucking their own kids into bed. So most people just go on eating the pasta.

So to prevent hard feelings (and pasta glut), we started making this soup, and it's a big hit. This recipe makes enough for two families, with enough for leftovers for both. Plus, it's not a casserole.

And we like it so much, we make it even when someone hasn't had a baby! Wow!

P.S. The boys hate it, except for Stephen, who'll eat anything to get two cookies.

Red Beans & Rice

"Beans and rice, beans and rice; Momma even serves us sometimes twice!"

Those of you of a certain age will remember this song, along with "Hanker for a hunka cheese." These were a lame attempt at co-opting the success of Schoolhouse Rock for nutritional use.

Which isn't so day that the attempt was completely useless. I do still remember the songs. But I didn't take the messages to heart. I was married before I started eating cheese anywhere other than on a pizza, and it wasn't until I started cooking that I started eating beans & rice. Let's just say late 20's and have done with it, okay?

But these days, I love red beans & rice. I love making it almost as much as I love eating it. My wife is not a big RBR fan, so it's a rare treat when she nods, like a queen of old, and deigns to allow its appearance at table. Tonight was such a night.

While I was in the middle of cooking, my sister called to chat. I told her what I was making, and she said it sounded yummy (and she was right), so I'm posting the recipe for her and for y'all, just in case you want to make it yourself.

Some words of warning. First, I like food to taste good, not necessarily to be good for you. I use things like bacon in recipes. Heart-healthy, this ain't.

Second, I'm a bit of a food snob. When I say use smoked sausage or bacon, I mean use the real thing. Forget turkey sausage or turkey bacon. If you use those when cooking this recipe, you will unwittingly open a portal to hell, and all the scary things from Doom 3 will come out and mess up your kitchen.

This recipe will make enough for 4 healthy-eating adults (and you know who you are). Kids probably won't eat this. Only Stephen ate any tonight, but he'll eat anything to get two cookies.

First, make the rice. I like short-grain, sticky rice. Uncle Ben's is right-out.
You'll need:

• 1 3/4 cups water
• 1 cup rice
• Old Bay (that's right, put Old Bay in the rice; if that's not your style, fine by me, but you're probably not going to like the rest of this)

1. In a big saucepan, bring the water to a boil.
   
2. Add rice and a dash of Old Bay.
   
3. Stir rice until the water boils again, then reduce heat to low and cover.
   
4. Simmer rice for 15 minutes, then stir again.
5. Remove from heat and let it sit for at least 10 minutes.

While that's going on, you can be cutting stuff for the red beans part. You'll need:

• A little oil (1 tbsp? I use olive oil, and I can't really explain why)
  
• 2 slices of bacon, cut into little squares
  
• One medium or large onion (depending on how much you like onions), sliced into half-rings
  
• Garlic (I use 5-7 cloves, but I like garlic; the boys are probably immune to it by now), smashed and diced
  
• 2 smoked sausages (use good ones; this is an important part), cut into 1/2 in chunks
  
• Chicken bouillon cube
• 1 cup water
• 1/4 cup red wine
• 2 cans of red beans (light or dark, it doesn't matter)
• Old Bay
  

Note: I hate celery. Seriously, we're talking Kroger-hate here. So I never put celery in anything. But if you like celery, it might be good in this. I wouldn't know, because I hate celery.

1. Heat oil in a big (12 in?) skillet or pot on medium heat
   
2. Add bacon and brown until you have a lot of bacon grease in the pan (leave the bacon in there; it tastes good)
   
3. Add your onion and garlic and stir a lot. Keep stirring until the onion gets soft and translucent (I cook mine until the onion is browned and very soft; if you like gnawing on onion slices, cook it less)
4. Add a dash of Old Bay and mix it into the onions while they're cooking
   
5. Add sausage and brown it
6. Add another dash of Old Bay and stir to make sure the sausage gets some, too
7. Add water, wine, and the bouillon cube (make sure you scrape the bottom of the pan once the water's boiling; that's extra flavor down there)
8. Once the water's boiling, add the beans and a final dash of Old Bay. Stir to mix the beans in with everything else, put a lid on it, drop the heat to low, and go wait for the kids to get home from Karate (about 15-30 minutes)

You'll want the beans to start coming apart, so stir a few times. Serve the red beans and pot likker over the rice, probably in bowls.

By the way, you can pretty much use this same recipe to make black beans and rice. Use chicken instead of sausage, and omit the bacon and Old Bay. Also, brown the chicken whole, remove it and dice it, then put it back in with the beans.

Wow.

Let me never, ever complain again:
A Young Father's Rare Choice

Calendars

Finally!

After 2 1/2 years of working at home, I finally have a calendar in my office. This is a good thing, because I have a real problem remembering what day of the week it is, much less the day of the month (or even the month itself, sometimes the year).

My new calendar was handmade by Timothy, so of course it's perfect. I got this one because a) we again forgot to purchase me a calendar on our day-after-Christmas calendar trip, and 2) we got calendars for all the other rooms in the house that are considered calendar-worthy.

(Woohoo! Two! Two early 90's "Must-see TV" references in the paragraph above. Find them and pat your own back.)

Yes, our annual calendar shopping trip is on December 26. Before Christmas this year, our Sunday school class (named "Got Young Kids?" because we do, in fact, got young kids) talked about Christmas traditions. Lots of folks had really nice ones about Advent trees and Bible lessons. We, of course, have just two.

The first is the calendar trip on the 26th. The second tradition is that, whenever we're driving, the first one to see Christmas lights on a house yells out "Merry Christmas!" Then everyone else in the car yells "Merry Christmas!" too. It's fun in November, deafening and maddening in December, and hilarious in June. Jonah is the undisputed king, both because of his ability to spot the lights and also because of the volume and gusto he puts into the yelling.

The calendar trip is for my wife, who loves Christmas so much that the day after Christmas is surely the saddest, most depressing day of the year. So this lets her get out of the house and spend some money, which (theoretically, at least) she hasn't been able to do since Thanksgiving.

We always get 3 calendars: one for the kitchen and then one for each of the boys' rooms. The boys usually get ones with illustrations from kids' books. This year Timothy (and Sam) got a very nice one with Harry Potter illustrations. Stephen and Jonah got an Incredibles calendar.

In the kitchen we get whatever my wife wants, usually Maxfield Parrish or John William Waterhouse. Last year was a Waterhouse, and it had an unusually large number of exposed breasts in it, which required some creative sticker-work by my wife (thanks to Creative Memories) to keep it PG enough for the kids. But the calendar company must have received a lot of complaints, though, because this year's version has nary a boob in sight.

I had wanted one of those Chick-fil-a Cowlendars for my office. Not because I like anthropomorphic cows doing silly things (I can't remember if this year's version was extreme sports or spy-type stuff). I like the Chick-fil-a calendars because they have coupons. And coupons mean food.

At some point in November, I recall being asked if I wanted one of those Cowlendars, and I also remember saying that I would. But it didn't happen. Oh, well. I should be used to it by now. I asked for new drill bits for 2 years straight, and I've been asking for Star Wars LEGO mini models for about 3 years now. Sigh. Such is a dad's life. I should ask for these this year and see what happens.

But now at least I have a calendar. Which I've just noticed is still on February. I guess whenever February only has 28 days, you can use the same page for most of March. Don't try this with any other month.

I may try to get a new calendar this year, but both Stephen and Timothy will be in school, so the chances of me getting another hand-made one are high. I wonder how many calendars you have to have to cover all of the possible day/month combinations? I would guess 7 would cover most of it, but then you've got leap years. Hmm. I'll have to research it. But with 4 boys in school, I may never have to buy another calendar again.

Mmmmm. Sacre-licious.

There's been a lot of talk of heresy bandied about the past few weeks (Gallic shrug). I myself have only once been caught in such a statement.

I once said that The Varsity didn't taste good cold.

I was wrong.

Ah, The Varsity. Next to wine, is there any other delicacy that is spoken of using the name of the place of its origin? I had The Rome last night? The Paris? The Maine? No.

But, "Hey, let's get The Varsity tonight!" and, "Yes, I'd like another glass of the Beaujolais, please" are some of the finest phrases ever spoken by mankind.

As mentioned previously, there is no food in my house. My normal lunch fare consists of leftovers (all gone) or hot dogs (also all gone). There are no good chips, no hamburger meat or chicken nuggets. Alas, there were no CheezIts.

In this case, I normally would make quesadillas (tortilla, handful of cheese, foldover, put in paper towel in the microwave for 45 seconds, remove paper towel, put in toaster oven on Medium. Perfect.) But we've had quesadillas for dinner twice this week in an attempt to rectify a tortilla over-purchase from a few weeks ago. No, I did not get excited at the grocery store, I made a mistake and put it on the list two weeks in a row.

So today I was standing downstairs bemoaning the fact that a) there was no food in the house, and 2) my wife had our car.

Yes, we are a one-car household. I work at home and have absolutely zero interests outside of said home that do not also include the rest of the family, so we only need one car. And today, my wife took the Middles to see a play at the Fox.

If you grew up in Atlanta, you know where this is going.

So, if you've got a gaggle of kids who've just finished watching a play at the Fox, looking at the "stars" in the ceiling and listening to the organ man, where do you go for lunch? Simple, you say, you go two blocks away to The Varsity. Curse you star-watching, organ-listening Varsity eaters.

So while I was standing in the kitchen trying to figure out whether to eat frozen pumpkin puree or a pop-tart for lunch, my lovely wife calls to gloat that she's going to eat at The Varsity.

KAHN!!!!
CURSE YOU AQUASCUM!!!!!

After I calmed down, she asked if she could bring anything. Through my whimpering, I managed to say, "Yes, please do."

When she asked what I wanted, I could feel joy returning. The sun peeked from behind a dark cloud; a bird called out. I said, "Chili-only dog, chili-only steak, and some fries, please."

To the everlasting credit of my beautiful bride, she did indeed deliver the holy items (plus a small amount of chili powder). The food was not hot, but it was just fine by me.

Even cold, The Varsity is still the best in town. I am ready to do my penance now.

Food

There is no food in the house. I say this because it is both a) true, and b) extremely upsetting to me. If I'm going to sit on my hiney all day and help people with their software problems, then by golly I'd better be able to shovel CheezIts into my ever-tiring maw.

Grrr. Is Lent over yet?

Mind you, Lent is not the reason we don't have any food. The main culprit is an upcoming trip out of state. Whenever we go out of town, my wife thinks it's a good idea not to go to the grocery store and to just use the food we have on-hand. I am not a fan of this idea, but it's not really my house.

What I am responsible for is creating meals out of what remains. This leads to entrees like . . . never mind. It's really gross.

So we have not been to the grocery store in two weeks. Okay, that's not exactly true. I made an emergency run on Monday night about 10:30, which is an unholy hour to be going to the grocery store.

I hate going grocery shopping that late for two reasons:
1. I should be in bed reading a book
2. Publix is closed, so I have to go to Kroger, and I hate Kroger.

I mean, I really hate Kroger. I like my grocery stores well lit, clean, and staffed by friendly and knowledgeable people. This perfectly describes our Publix, but is the exact opposite of each and every Kroger within 10 miles of my house.

But at 10:30 this past Monday, I was in "our" Kroger, which, at that time of night, is packed to the gills with weirdos. Admittedly, I was the only one there who was walking around mumbling to himself. But I was mumbling things like, "I really really hate Kroger," "Man, that milk section stinks to high heaven," and, "Where in @#$%& did they put the bread this week?"

This was an emergency run, so it included only necessary items, like my wife's favorite cereal, milk for her cereal, etc. Seriously though, it was just breakfast and lunch basics. I'm not allowed to be creative with breakfast, I guess.

Oddly, I did come home with a bottle of Beaujolais. I don't know how that happened, but it does explain why I'm usually only allowed to go grocery shopping on Sundays.

But soon, soon, oh happy day, I will get to make the Big Run. This, the most famous of grocery store trips, will include Costco (for industrial-size boxes of CheezIts), Publix (for smiling, happy people and clean aisles), and my favorite place of all, the Dekalb Farmer's Market.

More on that later.