Centennial

2 Jul

100 years ago on Friday (the 6th), my Grandpa Arthur Hansen was born.  We lived pretty far away from him while I was growing up but I do have a few great memories.  

I knew that he loved me and my brothers and sisters a whole lot– pretty impressive that he could make me feel that from only seeing us a few times–we didn’t even get to visit once a year, but I knew he really loved me. 

When I was 6 or 7, he and Grandma came out to Missouri to visit.  He brought my sisters & me Michael Jackson paper dolls (Not the paper kind, but the plastic-y kind that stick to each other.)  We didn’t have a clue who Michael Jackson was, but it was obvious from the pictures that he was both cool & famous.  We had fun playing with those dolls, but we couldn’t figure out why he only had one sparkly glove instead of a pair. 

When I was around 11 or 12 we went out to Utah to visit Grandpa.  We had a big picnic in the park to celebrate his birthday (and a few other family birthdays.)  There was to be a pie-eating contest and Aunt Dianne made a banana cream pie for each person (that was alot of pies).  My dad is allergic to bananas so she made him a special pie with no bananas.  There was a big discussion between Uncle Mark and Uncle Nels about whether that would give dad an unfair advantage during the eating, but I was very impressed that she went to the trouble to make a special pie.  I don’t know who won the contest, but when Grandpa finished his pie, he had whipped cream all over his face and even in his nose.  He grabbed my sister in a big bear hug and said, “Give me a kiss, Mary!”
Grandpa had false teeth and whenever we visited, he would announce, “Careful where you sit, I’ve set my teeth down somewhere and they might bite you!”  Then he’d push his teeth out with his tongue and clack them at us.  (They’d been in his mouth the whole time.)  I was always pretty fascinated by that glass of water that his teeth soaked in. 
A funny story I know about his teeth from before I was born:  Grandpa taught classes for awhile and every day before he walked into the classroom he would stop and raise his hand to check that he had his teeth in, his glasses in his right breast pocket and his pencils in his left breast pocket.  Some of his students thought he was Catholic because of this.  (If you don’t get that joke, try it yourself.)
Grandpa Hansen served a mission in Norway as a young man and then he and Grandma served 3 missions in Iceland after he retired (or was it 2 missions to Iceland and 1 in Switzerland?)

Summer Heat

1 Jul
Winning her 25 meter backstroke heat

We joined the Monett Water Thrashers this summer.

They practice every morning at the Monett Pool.

I was doubtful about signing up Pumpkin Pie (was she too young?) but she really wanted to try it.

Last week she said, “Mom, I’m going to win my heat next time.” and she did!

Winning her heat put her in 9th place of about 30 swimmers for the race.

Happy birthday to my girl with quiet determination.

“Though she be but little, she is fierce!” ~Midsummer Night’s Dream

Strawberry Festival

23 Jun
Cherry Pie and Banana Cream Pie
Porter
Wyatt
Henry

Fathers’ Day

23 Jun
My daddy, he was somewhere between God and John Wayne.  ~Hank Williams, Jr.
Legend tells of a legendary warrior...

...whose skills were the stuff of legend.
 
That legendary guy is my dad.  I’ve blogged about him before once or twice.
He is 6 foot 6 and 3/4 inches  tall (that’s exactly 2 meters for those of you who understand metric) 
His hand can wrap around a basket ball the way a normal person’s hand wraps around a grapefruit.
He wears a size 14 quadruple wide shoe (same as Abraham Lincoln).
My brothers used to beg him to flex his muscles–his biceps were like large cantalopes.
He doesn’t even  excercise.

My Dad could eat a loaf of homemade bread and drink a gallon of milk in one sitting and not feel too full.
 
 My Dad was taller, bigger, stronger, and smarter than all the other kids’ dads.  

He could drive 19 hours without stopping across the country to take us out to the family reunion and recite all fifty states (in alphabetical order, size order, or population order, take your pick) with their capitals.  

He could quote poetry he had memorized for over 2 hours without stopping.

He had over 200 scriptures memorized and could find you anything you wanted in the scriptures or tell you which apostle said it and what year he said it in.  
Sometimes I felt sorry for those other kids whose dads weren’t actually the tallest, the smartest, and the strongest.
My dad used to say (when us kids were being crazy and wild or if we left his tools out laying around)
“Whaddo you think this is, a circus?”
Yes.  It was a circus.

 I’ve included this final quote because I think it’s funny and I’m pretty sure my dad will think it’s funny, too.

 ~Jimmy Piersal, on how to diaper a baby, 1968 

Spread the diaper in the position of the diamond with you at bat.  Then fold second base down to home and set the baby on the pitcher’s mound.  Put first base and third together, bring up home plate and pin the three together.  Of course, in case of rain, you gotta call the game and start all over again. 

The Man of the House is Blogging!

16 Jun

The man of the house has begun a blog about what it is like being married to me (a very entertaining subject, indeed).

Okay, he is going to talk about other stuff, too.

You can read his blog Shadows in the Rain at iagosghost.wordpress.com.  You’ll notice he chose WordPress for his platform.  Apparently Blogger isn’t as cool.

Actually I’m tempted to change over myself.  WordPress had some pretty neat editing tools.

Cupcake Wars

15 Jun

One of the girls’ favorite things to do is watch Cupcake Wars with their Grannie on Sunday evening.  The problem with watching a show about cupcakes on a Sunday evening is we all get really hungry for cupcakes.  They’ve been begging me for awhile to have our own cupcake wars.

So on Memorial Day we did.

I went easy on myself and bought 2 cake mixes rather than making the batter from scratch.  I listed the “pantry” choices on the fridge and the girls each planned their cupcake.  For the filling, I made a cream cheese & sugar base and let them stir in their flavor of choice.  For the frosting, I made vanilla buttercream and again, let them add the extra flavor of their choice.  They were thrilled.

Cupcake: butter or chocolate
Filling: cream cheese, chocolate (cocoa), peanut butter, strawberry jam
Frosting: vanilla, chocolate, caramel, lemon
Decorations: twizzlers, silver dragees, colored sugar sprinkles, gummy bears, star shaped marshmallows

Our theme (chosen by Grannie) was Girl Scout Camping.
Cherry Pie made a butter cupcake with chocolate filling and vanilla buttercream, topped with a twizzler camp fire.

Pumpkin Pie made a butter cupcake, no filling, with vanilla buttercream, topped with a smiling girl scout face made with twizzlers and silver dragees

Peach Pie made a butter cupcake with peanut butter filling and vanilla buttercream, topped with twizzlers and marshmallow stars.

No one chose gummy bears, much to my amazement.

We made Uncle Eddie & his friend Kaitlyn be the judges.  Everybody won and everybody was happy.

I made 2 dozen chocolate cupcakes with chocolate filling and salted caramel buttercream frosting.  (Salted caramel seems to be the fad in desserts right now; it shows up a lot in cupcake wars.  I’ve been dying to try it.)

I got the delicious recipe I used here at CHOW.com.  (That’s right, sisters, I didn’t just pin it on Pintrest it, I actually made it.)

Many people who commented on Chow complained about the ratio of butter to powdered sugar.  I personally prefer buttercream that has more butter than sugar, so I knew I would like this one!  I did end up adding a little more sugar, but it was because I heated up the house with all that baking, and the butter was too soft.

Go make some cupcakes.  You know you want to.

Being a Mom is kind of like being Bipolar

13 Jun


Some days I feel like this:

My children are smart and amazing and I am so blessed.



Some days I feel like this:

Summer has thrown off my groove.

11 Jun

So here is Baby Dumpling a month ago

such delicious fatness!

I’ve got a backlog of about 5 or 10 posts in my brain to share with you, my avid readers. But with the kiddie pies home for summer, I spend 3/4ths of the daylight hours fixing food for them to devour and cleaning up after the feeding frenzy. Then I have to fight them off the computer for a chance to type my blog post one handed- ’cause the fat Baby Dumpling has decided that naps and sleeping through the night are for suckers and she’s not one–so she likes to stay on my lap. But maybe later today or tomorrow I’ll find a moment.

In the mean time, you-all keep bloggin’ because I can read one-handed just fine.

P.S. my awesome friend over at Well-Bread Mom made this cute sunbonnet for Baby.

Trophy Days

8 Jun

Twelve years ago, I was a brand new mother, sitting at church, with my new baby boy in my arms. Somebody said gloomily from the pulpit, “They don’t give out trophies for being a mother.”

I think the gist of what they meant was that being a mom and raising children right is important, even though the world doesn’t recognize it as a prestigious job/occupation/career.

But as I sat there, I thought to myself, Maybe they don’t hand out trophies, but there will be some “trophy days.” The day my child turns 8 and is baptized a member of the church, that will be a trophy day. The day my son turns 12 and helps to pass the sacrament for the first time, that will be a trophy day.

I don’t mean trophy in the sense that everyone would recognize my “achievements” and heap praise on me as the winner of something. But trophy in the sense that the happiness I would feel on those days would be like the happiness you feel when you finish a race and you feel that all that hard work and sweat and days of running in the rain and running in the heat were all worth it. Or when you receive highest marks on your piano solo at Music Festival and all those hours of practicing until your back ached and your fingers were too stiff to move are *nearly* forgotten/forgiven in the glow of those highest marks.

As I decided what days my trophy days would be, I admitted to myself that they would be few and far between–an allowance for that person who thought there weren’t any trophies at all.

Now 12 years have passed. I am mother of not 1 but 6 children. I have a new baby. My little baby that was is now a 12 year old boy and will be ordained a deacon on Sunday. In another month a daughter will turn 8 and be baptized.

Those trophy days aren’t few and far between at all.

And there have been many more trophy days that I never dreamed of twelve years ago.

Days of finding little scraps of wrinkled paper love notes on my pillow.

Days when a child comes home from school with a poem they had to write about the color brown, and they wrote about brown hair waving in the wind.

Days when I ask the kids to clean up and they actually do it without complaining or fighting.

Days when I’m sick and my 3 year old curls up in the bed next to me and pats my neck with her little hand because that is the best kind of comfort she knows how to give.

Days like last Sunday, when the DH was gone to guard drill and I had an early morning church meeting. I set breakfast on the table, woke up the children, and asked them to eat and dress themselves for church, promising to be back in one hour. When I returned home, they were dressed with shoes on and even hair brushed, ready to get in the van. (p.s. I did take the baby with me)

On Sunday, when I shared these thoughts, I said at the end, “Every day is a trophy day when you are a mom.” That was just nerves, realizing I’d said what I’d thought and didn’t know quite how to end and get away from the microphone… and maybe a bit of the emotion of the moment making me feel like that if I were a perfect human, I would find those trophy moments every day. I know that every day isn’t a trophy day.
But they are there, generously sprinkled in, and they are what remind me to be happy when the struggle of life has made me forget.

Tamales

7 Jun

I was really bored with cooking last month. So one day I decided to make something less ordinary: tamales. I learned how from 2 ladies. One, my dear husband’s Abuelita, who I visited in Mexico. Two, my mother, who learned from her Mexican neighbor. My goodness! Tamales are tasty–there’s a reason they are traditionally served at Christmas time in Mexico. Yum Yum, food you’ll dream about for days after. Tamales are time consuming to make, and your feet will really hurt by the end– so your best option would be to bring me gifts and beg me to make them for you. If, however, you don’t like kissing up, here is what to do:

You will need:

2lb pork roast, any cut
3 large Poblano Chiles

salt
masa harina (specially made corn flour)

olives
1 1/3 cups butter softened
baking powder
corn husks
and a steamer or pressure cooker with a metal steamer plate and a crock pot.

NOW we can begin:

The night before you wish to eat the tamales, put the pork roast in your crock pot with 1 or 2 cups of water and let it cook on low all night. The next morning, shred the pork with forks and add salt until it tastes good. My sister likes to add chicken base (bouillon).
Put that in the fridge to cool.

I generally begin actually making the tamales about 2 hours before I want to serve dinner.

1. Turn the broiler in your oven on high. Take the Poblano Chiles and place them about 6-8″ from the top of the oven. Sometimes I put them on a cookie sheet and sometimes I just set them right in on the oven rack. After about 3 minutes, check the chiles. When their skin is pretty uniformly blistered on top, grab them by their stem and flip them over to blister the other side (3 more minutes).

Take them out of the oven and put them back into that produce bag you put them in at the grocery store or a ziploc bag and let them steam inside it for 10 minutes. Those white walmart bags supposedly leak toxins, so don’t use them.

2. Take the corn husks and put them in a bowl of warm water to soak and get soft.

3. Now you are going to make the masa (the corn mush part)

Combine
4 cups Masa flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 tsp salt

Use your fingers to work 4 cups lukewarm water (or leftover pork broth from cooking above) into the flour to make a soft dough.

Now you have a choice about how to add the butter:

1 1/3 cups butter (authentically, this would be lard, but trust me, butter is yummiest)

Choice #1: Using your mixer, whip the butter until fluffy and then add the masa and beat it until the dough is spongy. This is the authentic way. My dear husband’s Abuelita wanted me to beat the masa dough (by hand with a wooden spoon) until it was fluffy enough that a pea size amount would float in water. Warning: it may burn out your mixer.

Choice #2: melt the butter and stir it in with your hands, like you did the water. Guess what! The dough will become spongy & fluffy as you mix in the butter.

4. Take those poblano chiles out of their steam bag and peel the blistered skin off. Open them up and remove the seeds & membranes inside. I do this under cool running water at the sink. Chop them up into 1 inch squares.
5. Get the pork out of the fridge and skim off any fat you can. Stir the poblanos and sliced olives into the pork.
6. Take a corn husk and spread a couple of heaping spoonfulls of masa on it.

7. Add a couple of tablespoons of the pork.

8. Roll up the corn husk and twist and flip the bottom–like you do with a bread bag when you are too lazy to get a twisty tie for it.

9. If you want to get really fancy, you can take a skinny strip of corn husk and tie a granny knot bow thing around your tamale to hold the twisted end in place. I usually don’t do this unless the corn husk seems small to me, like it might not stay closed if I don’t add the extra support. But they do look pretty all tied up in their little corn husk packages.

10. Now you are going to place your tamales in your steamer or pressure cooker. If you have a steam basket pot (sometimes called a spaghetti cooker) or a bamboo steamer (see picture at the beginning of this post) you can steam the tamales in that for 1 hour. Remember to check that your water hasn’t boiled dry or they will burn & you might ruin your steam pot.

If you have a pressure cooker with a steam plate, it only takes 10 minutes to steam the tamales, once you have brought them up to pressure. This is how Abuelita taught me to cook them. She placed a clean empty tuna fish can in the bottom of her pressure cooker and set the steam plate on top of it. She filled the can and the space around the can under the steam plate with water. (I use this same method to steam corn on the cob).

Now line your tamales around the pot so that they rest on each other –like that party game where everyone stands in a circle and then sits on each other’s knees. It is a little tricky to keep the thing balanced at first so that your steam plate doesn’t tip into the water, but you can do it.

Now fill in the middle

Bring to pressure and pressure cook for 10 minutes. Be careful not to burn yourself when you open up the pot!

I like to serve tamales with mexican rice and fresh salsa on the side.

This recipe makes about 32 tamales.

Yes, they are good cold the next day (or reheated, your choice)

I borrowed the Poblano pictures from here: http://whatscookingamerica.net/CynthiaPineda/CornChili/ChilePoblano.htm