This sneaky problem I speak of?

Princesses.

Like most little girls, Evie is absolutely head-over-heals in love with princesses.  Disney princesses. Princesses in pony form. Princess costumes and princess shoes and princess coloring books.

When I was a women’s studies minor in college I swore that any little girls I someday had would not be exposed to the Disney princess machine.  I don’t like the overall message these movies convey: that the only way a damsel in distress can dig her way out of a hole is with the help of a handsome man who falls in love with her beauty well before her brains.  And, I especially don’t like the way these princesses are marketed to impressionable and innocent young girls.  Its about constant consumption, and because we strive to live a simpler life I don’t want to feel pressured into buying more stuff.

However, I softened my stance when my cousin Kathleen gave Evie an old copy of a princess book.  Evie beamed with joy and excitement as we read the stories.  She turned on her perma-smile for the entirety of the book, and I couldn’t help but smile along with her.  If something so simple made her so happy, who was I to stand in the way?

This princess issue was a turning point for me as a mother.  It was something I had felt so strongly about, and yet I was suddenly and unexpectedly shifting my attitude.  I can’t expect my kids to do and feel and say everything like me.  They are their own people with their own growing opinions, and while its my job to teach them my values in hopes that they will make wise decisions, its also my job to help them define their own values, too.  Living as a family requires compromise, and this was one issue I decided to compromise on.

Evie’s great-grandparents sent her money for Valentine’s Day, and with it she wanted to buy “The Princess and the Frog” DVD.  It was her money, and I want her to feel like she is old enough to make a small decision like this for herself.  As soon as I turned the movie on her beautiful face lit up, and I smiled, too.  When she is so sweetly happy, so am I!

I loved the Disney princess movies when I was little (I’m pretty sure my sisters and I nearly wore out our VHS tape of “Cinderella”), and somehow I managed to figure out that a girl doesn’t need a man to live a wonderful life…that tiny waists and little feet and porcelain features aren’t the only way to define beauty…and that in the long run its nothing more than a bedtime story.

Evie and I reached a new milestone in our relationship yesterday.

She lied to me. For the first time.

It all started innocently enough.  I made a batch of cupcakes to serve for dessert, and after she repeatedly picked at them while they cooled on the counter I moved them to an out-of-reach spot on top of our toaster.  While I went upstairs to take care of some laundry, someone pushed a chair up to the counter and someone reached into the cupcakes and dug well into more than a few.

When I asked Evie what happened, she immediately denied responsibility.  When I pushed a little further for an answer, she told me Mack was at fault.  After I reminded her that Mack was in the shower with Dad (and too short to reach the toaster, anyway!), she then told me it was their toy robot who ate the cupcakes.  Hmmmmm…

I gave Evie several opportunities to fess up, but it seemed like the more complicated the web she spun, the less likely it was that I was going to get an honest answer out of her.  It was clear that she didn’t want to disappoint me, and I am grateful for that.  But because I want to stop the lying before it becomes a problem, I sent her to her room with instructions not to leave until she told the truth and apologized.

I was so disappointed – not that she swiped a few sneaky bites of cupcakes, but that she wasn’t being honest with me.  I know this is something I’ll probably have to get used to as she gets older, but its hard to think that she’s old enough to A) lie and B) formulate a completely fake story to cover her tracks.

I want Evie and me to enjoy a relationship that is based on honesty and trust. She can come to me with any problem and I will help her solve it.  I hope she always knows this - I’m telling the absolute truth when I say it!

I wrote about chia seeds a few months ago, and ever since I’ve been having fun trying out new uses for them in the kitchen.  I saw a recipe in a recent issue of Food & Wine magazine for a chia “pudding”, and it seemed easy, interesting and healthy.  The magazine recipe called for almond milk and agave, but I thought I’d make my version a little more fun.

It turned out great – a creamy and luscious consistency, a little bit of sweet and some healthy fiber and antioxidants.  The perfect little late night treat!

Chia-Raspberry Pudding

1 1/4 cup almond milk

2-3 tablespoons pure maple syrup

1/4 cup chia seeds

handful of raspberries, crushed

Combine all ingredients in a pint jar.  Seal and shake well.  Refrigerate for at least four hours, shaking occasionally.  Spoon into bowls and top with more raspberries.  Serves 2.

Growing up, I never once had pot pie for dinner.  I seem to remember my mom recalling horror stories of her childhood: forced to sit at the dining table for hours until the pot pie she absolutely detested was eaten.  She hated it as a child, and so she never served it to her children.

Flash forward many years and I found myself in the kitchen this afternoon with no idea what to make for dinner.  We’ve tightened our budget a bit the past couple months, so I couldn’t go to the grocery store for any ingredients. Plus, I like being creative and resourceful.  So, I opened up the fridge and freezer to take a quick inventory: frozen chicken breasts, pie crust (left over from Christmas baking), homemade chicken broth and a slew of vegetables that were only a day away from going bad.  How could all these pieces come together to form a dinner??

I basically dumped the contents of our fridge and freezer into a pot and dinner was born.  And, may I add, it was delicious!

However, when I put the dinner plate in front of Evie she gave me a look much like I imagine my mom gave to my grandmother long ago.  Without even sniffing the meal she looked up at me with TEARS in her eyes and declared, “Mom, if I eat this I am going to THROW UP!!!!!”  I had already taken a bite, and I knew she would like it – after all, what kids don’t like chicken, carrots, peas and pie crust?!  So, I resorted to bribing: if she took a bite, I’d make her rice krispy treats for dessert. Weighing her options, she bravely but tentatively took a bite.

Her eyes lit up.

She exclaimed, “Mom, I love this! This is my favorite dinner!”

Maybe I should try making it for my own mom someday…but if she doesn’t like it I won’t make her sit at the table till well past her bedtime!

Homemade Chicken Pot Pie

7 tablespoons butter

1 yellow onion, diced small

5 carrots, peeled and diced small

16 oz shredded potatoes

2 garlic cloves, minced

2 portobello mushroom tops, sliced

2 bay leaves

1 teaspoon dried thyme

salt, pepper

1/2 cup flour

4 cups chicken broth, warmed

1 cup frozen peas

2 chicken breasts, poached and shredded

pie crust, store bought or homemade

Melt 3 tablespoons butter in a large pot and add onions and carrots.  Cook until starting to soften.  Add shredded potatoes and stir well.  Once potatoes heat through, add garlic and mushrooms.  Stir until fragrant.  Add thyme and bay leaves.  Remove from heat and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, melt remaining 4 tablespoons butter.  Add flour and whisk until flour absorbs all the butter.  Slowly add in chicken broth, whisking constantly.  Bring broth to a boil, whisking frequently.  Once broth thickens, continue whisking for another minute or two.

Stir peas and chicken into veggies.  Pour in thickened broth and stir well to combine.  Pour into 13×9 baking dish and top with pie crust.  Place dish on rimmed baking sheet, and bake at 375 for 45 minutes.  Remove from oven and let cool for at least 10 minutes before cutting.

Ugh.

I don’t follow much celebrity gossip, but I know enough to know that he was arrested for beating up his girlfriend.  I saw the terrible pictures of her abused face, and like most people I was deeply disturbed.  Back when it happened, I thought we’d never hear from Chris Brown again.

Apparently, I was wrong.

As Chris Brown leaped and flipped and crooned across the stage in front of a televised audience of 40 million people, all I could think was “are you kidding me?!“  He received a standing ovation from an enthusiastic crowd.  Applause and adulation.  Apparently, he made a triumphant return.

Ick.

Football player Michael Vick was sentenced to two years in jail for abusing dogs, and now that he is back on the field he’s still dodging angry folks who can’t get over his crime.  So, why are people not equally angry about a HUMAN abuser making a grand return to the spotlight?  I respect our legal system and I appreciate that some past criminals deserve a second chance once they’ve paid their debt to society, but in my opinion Chris Brown got off easy.  He was sentenced to five years probation and 180 days of community labor.  What a coward.

I have no idea what went on in the relationship between Chris Brown and Rihanna, but as far as I’m concerned abuse of any kind should never be tolerated or forgotten.  Domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women – more than car accidents, muggings and rapes combined.  Sadly, every year 10 million kids witness domestic abuse.  Even more shocking, every day three women are murdered by the man they thought they loved.  If you or someone you love is a victim of abuse, seek help from the police, your doctor or http://www.thehotline.org/ or 800-799-SAFE.

I have to wonder how Rihanna’s parents felt the other night as the man who beat their daughter danced around as if nothing was amiss.  Did they want to rip the microphone from his slimy hands? Did they want to scream at all the fans dancing and cheering him on?  Did they want to tear into his face the same way he tore into their daughter?  Because I can promise I’d do all that (and more) if a man ever lays a finger on my precious daughter.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

To start this lovely day off right, I made a batch of homemade pancakes.  To the batter I added mashed fresh raspberries and red-&-pink M&Ms, and I topped them off with homemade yogurt and pure maple syrup. Making pancakes from scratch doesn’t take much more time than a box mix, and homemade pancakes have no trans-fats, strange preservatives or excessive packaging.

I believe one of the best ways to show my family just how much I love them is to prepare whole, fresh and healthy foods.  Show a little love with homemade!

Here’s my oh-so-simple homemade pancake recipe: http://homemademothering.com/2011/03/629.html

And here’s how to make homemade yogurt: http://homemademothering.com/2009/05/homemade-yogurt-yummmmmm.html

When I was 8 years old my mom’s brother married a woman from Bangladesh.  Feryall was outgoing and chatty and so friendly – she dove right in to our big family and fit in seamlessly.  Growing up, I remember that she never spoke down to the kids in the family – she made a real effort to treat us as the young adults we wanted to be.  In sixth grade I was given a school assignment to write a report and prepare a presentation about Bangladesh, so Feryall invited me to spend an afternoon at her apartment talking about her country.  She lent me a beautiful green sari to wear, and she taught me how to make keema, a Benglai ground meat dish.  I think I was one of the only students in my class with a family member from his or her assigned country!

Although Feryall is no longer married to my uncle, she’s remained close with the family, and through Facebook we’ve been fortunate to reconnect.  I invited her over to my place this weekend to share her extensive knowledge of Indian and Bengali cooking.  Along with my sister Meghan and my Aunt Sheila, the four of us put together a truly delicious meal that reminded me of my travels to India.

Feryall’s menu included Green Beans and Carrots with Whole Cumin and Mustard Seed, Khichuri (a comforting rice and mung lentil dish), Karahi Chicken and a dessert called Farina Firnee (see recipe below).  Most of Feryall’s culinary inspiration comes from her mother, lovingly referred to as Kumkum.  I am so honored to have a few of these precious recipes in my files now.

Feryall taught us several basics about Indian/Bengali cooking – making a spice base, adding main ingredients in proper order, layering in fresh herbs and spices.  She also reminded us about the importance of rinsing rice and lentils prior to cooking, and she showed us how to do it without a colander (one less dish to clean!):

I was particularly inspired by the long list of fresh vegetables required to put together the dishes on our menu for the day.  So much color and flavor – quite a wake up call in the dead of winter!

And, because fresh ginger is my absolute favorite flavor, I was thrilled to see Feryall grate up a heaping pile of it! Yum!!

Perhaps the best part of the day, however, was spending some quality time with a few of the lovely ladies in my family.  After a delightfully mild winter, this weekend’s weather was a bit colder so it was nice to keep busy inside with such special people.  Fortunately, my fun-loving Aunt Sheila kept the stir-crazy kids occupied whenever Meghan and I took a turn watching Feryall in the kitchen!

The meal was wonderful – full of flavor and spice and texture.  But, for me the best part might have been the leftovers – everything tasted even better the next day!

“Sujir Firnee” Farina Firnee

Firnee is a sweet treat usually made in North Indian Muslim households for festivals such as Eid or on special occasions such as large family gatherings.  It is served with tea for drop-in guests or after a special meal.

2 tablespoons farina (cream of wheat)

1 tablespoon butter

1 cup milk

3 cardamoms

1/3 – 1/2 C sugar

Rose water or essence, few dashes

“Tabak” edible silver or gold foil (optional)

Slivered almonds and raisins

Melt butter over medium heat and add in farina.  Lightly toast farnina, but do not allow it to acquire color. Stir in milk and cardamoms.  Stir over low heat until thickened.  Add sugar and continue stirring until sugar melts.  Remove from flame.

Pour into shallow, single serving ramekins or deep saucers.  Remove cardamoms.  Chill till set.  (May be made in advance up to this point and refrigerated overnight, lightly covered).

Ten or fifteen minutes before serving, sprinkle rosewater on top.  Allow rosewater to be absorbed for a short time.  Garnish with tabak.  Add slivered almonds and/or pistachios and raisins.  Makes about 4 servings

Feryall’s Notes: Unglazed clay saucers are traditionally used.  Nowadays we know not to use clay unless it is food grade, as there is danger of lead or heavy metals in the clay.  For the same reason, do not use glazed earthenware if they are not specifically for food use, as some of the glazes may contain lead or other harmful metallic paints.  The firnee can be poured into a larger shallow dish if desired, and serving portions spooned out on dessert plates.

I’ve been interested in making homemade bread for a while now.  I’ve tinkered with different recipes and tried my hand at new techniques, but my results are inconsistent and sometimes disappointing.  Earlier this month I was thrilled to try out the Average Joe Bread Kit, which  requires no kneading and surprisingly minimal effort.  The delicious results are completely amazing, but I’m not ready to stop there.

So, I signed up for a few bread-making classes at Sour Flour Chicago.  The first class focused on starters, which are the base of all breads.  I was always so mystified by the “starter” concept: what is it? what does it do? how is it made? how is it maintained?  Turns out that a starter is what gives bread its lift, and it is used in place of commercial yeast.  A starter is quite simple to make – just some flour, water and time. Natural yeast eats through a flour and water paste, growing and creating carbon dioxide.  The fermentation process depends on five variables: temperature, hydration, ratio, food and time.  I also gathered that lots of experience and practice are needed to know when a starter is ready and how much should be used in a recipe.

According to the Sour Flour teacher, devoted bakers are very loyal to their starters.  Some starters have been lovingly maintained for 100 years!  As a way to honor this most important ingredient, all starters are given a name.  I named mine “Vida,” and nearly a week later she is going strong after daily feedings of additional flour and water.  I hope to start baking with her later this week.

The class was in the early evening, and since I had gone out with friends the night before and then worked the entire day I was feeling a little bad about not spending enough time with Evie. So, I bravely brought her along, not knowing how long her attention span would last.  She loved it!  The teacher was so kind – he gave her a small pile of flour and cup of water to “work” with, and he even let her bring home a starter all her own.  Naturally, she named hers “Evie.”

Sign me up!

When I received the kit I was immediately impressed.  It literally came with everything I could need to put together a delicious loaf of homemade artisan-style bread.  But, perhaps more importantly, the kit came with Joe’s step-by-step instructions for building beautiful bread.  Evie (wearing one of her favorite dress-up gowns) and I got started right away.

I was surprised by how little effort was required – just some simple mixing and no kneading (which I never seem to do right anyway).  After combining water, yeast, salt and flour I left the bowl alone for nearly 24 hours to rise.  Once the dough had risen substantially and taken on a giggly appearance, I scooped it out of the bowl and quickly shaped it into a round loaf.  I then set it into the Average Joe’s Bread Pot – the secret weapon in the whole process (in my opinion).  The bread bakes in the pot for just 45 minutes, all the while the house smells like a gourmet bread bakery.  Heavenly!!

I took the loaf out of the oven and set it on the cooling rack.  Joe’s directions suggest leaving the loaf to cool for 4-6 hours (yeah right), but he said its ok to steal a slice after 30 minutes. I waited a grand total of 31 minutes.

I can honestly say that I haven’t felt this proud of myself in ages.  I made this! I made this beautiful, perfectly crusty, perfectly chewy, perfectly perfect loaf of artisan bread!!!

It was so much easier than I ever could have guessed.  I told Joe that I think he’s a genius – he has given amateur bakers like me the tools and know-how to do what I always thought could only be left to the professionals. Thank you, Joe!

Homemade bread warm from the oven is such a treat for my little family, but it would also be a wonderful gift for a hostess or a family with a new baby.  And, the bread kit will be my go-to wedding gift from now on.

Joe has generously offered to participate in a GIVEAWAY for readers of Homemade Mothering.  To enter for a chance to win your own Average Joe Bread Kit do the following:

*Send an email with your favorite homemade recipe to recipes@breadkit.com (your email address will be kept private).  The recipe should be something you can do with bread (french toast, sandwich, etc) or something you can put on bread (jam, nut butters, condiments, etc) by Sunday, February 12 at 11:59 pm CST. The winner will be picked at random, but some recipes may show up on Joe’s site.  Cool!

Feel free to leave your recipe in the comments section here so we can all enjoy some new homemade recipes.

BONUS: If at least 100 readers submit an entry, Joe will extend a 10% discount to everyone who enters!

All of a sudden, it seems like my third pregnancy is coming to a too-fast end.  The July morning we found out about Bundle #3 feels like a long 7 months ago, but now that I’m in the home stretch I’m starting to panic a little bit.  So much to do! So much will change! How will I ever prepare for it all in just a few weeks?!

Lately, I’ve been getting lots of comments about the size of my belly.  As with my first two pregnancies, I didn’t really start to show until 6 or 7 months, so now that I’m at 8 months I finally have a little tummy I can be proud of.  But, everyone from the dry cleaner to my grandmother has a comment about how “small” I am. Someone had the nerve to ask me if I’ve had a doctor check on me!  And, another person suggested that perhaps there is something wrong with the perfectly healthy baby inside me.

Here’s the thing: just as all women are different, all pregnant women are different.  Some pop in the first trimester, some never show until their due date.  Some bellies look like basketballs, while others resemble the oblong shape of a football.  There is nothing I can do to beef up my belly – my long torso means that my uterus will keep going up until it has to go out!

While some cute banter about my belly is just fine, unsolicited comments that suggest I am neglecting my health or the health of my baby get on my nerves.  A pregnant tummy is not necessarily an open invitation to criticize a woman’s body.  When negative comments about my size came my way during my first pregnancy, I became very nervous and anxious worrying that something was wrong. I’ve since learned not to take these remarks personally. Some people just don’t know better, and other people are truly concerned and trying to be helpful.  There’s no sense in getting worked up about it!

And, while I’m on a bit of a rant, here’s a P.S.: Unless you are a female blood relative of mine, do not reach out and touch my stomach. I like my personal space, thank you very much.