Hongshao Zhurou (China)

Today I'm writing about the recipe I actually made on Christmas two days ago. As a matter of practicality, I try to write about the recipes I make on the day I prepare them, but honestly, I was too blissed out on Hongshao Zhurou, translated as Shanghai ham, some twice-baked potatoes and two giggling boys to sit down and write. So here it is, a couple days past due.

I am still in that post-holiday glow. Christmas day was a stay in our pajamas all day kind of holiday filled with presents and eggnog french toast. And the recipe I chose for our Christmas meal was a traditional one with an international twist. The holiday ham is a stalwart, but I found this Hongshao Zhurou, soaked in fresh ginger, soy sauce, lime and anise stars added just the right amount of zest to give it a new flavor. And it was my favorite type of recipe. Mix a marinade, pour over meat, slow cook to fill the house with savory anticipation.

Now that we're all coming down from our holiday cloud, we'll try hold onto the joy and elation of the season through the cold months ahead. The toys will be played with over the coming year. The clothes will be worn, the gadgets put into use until the novelty wears off and becomes routine.  And the leftovers will be consumed. Tonight it's a ham and brie bake with pears and rye bread. Tomorrow it's split pea soup with the ham bone. The sustenance of the last weeks and days will fortify our relationships, our creativity and purpose. And of course our palates, as we explore and expand our culinary traditions.

Atole de Fruta (Mexico)

This morning at our traditional family brunch of crepes there were many new additions, most notably our precious son Suki, enjoying his first Christmas with our family, and my baby nephew Elijah, who arrived in October. Suki and Ian happily ate crepes and played with their baby cousin in all the corners of Grandma and Grandpa's house. The adults happily drank coffee and told stories and redirected wild boys and passed the baby. Celebrating the season as an extended family with kids is such a joy, keeping the message of Christmas simple. Always love God. Always love each other.

Most often in these days of high consumerism that message has turned into 'always love each other with many, many expensive gifts purchased amid a frenzied mob during middle of the night shopping sprees.' My husband and I are as guilty of this as anyone, carefully amassing piles of brightly wrapped things to entertain and delight our children. But we do try to impress upon our children the message of a baby born to humble parents in humble surroundings. Tonight as we heard the story of Jesus's birth, as my boys carried the figurines of Mary and Joseph down the aisle at church to gentle complete the creche, we were reminded of the message. Always love God.  Always love each other.

Another new addition to our morning brunch was the Atole de Fruta, hot creamy fruit punch, a drink traditionally served during Mexican Christmas posadas. These posadas are a time to remember two humble parents in search of shelter and warmth for the impending birth of their baby. This Mexican tradition involves neighbors and friends moving from house to house, much like Mary and Joseph, but this time they are offered hospitality and welcome, a hot drink, a refreshing and sweet mix of fruit and cream. The heat of the thick drink radiates the message. Always love God. Always love each other.

This small gesture, the passing of a warm mug or bowl or basket, is repeated around the world in unlimited ways, crossing the boundaries of race, religion, ethnicity and more. The message is clear and at the heart of many peoples and places. Reach out to those in need. Share what you have. Embrace the ones you hold dear. Always love God. Always love each other.

Somali cuisine

Today I spent a lot of time thinking about Somalia, the impetus being this blog project, of course, but beyond the recipes, it's a place, a culture that I interact with quite often. We live in a city with one of the highest Somali populations in the US. We live in a community within this city where the cultural impact of the Somali culture is seen at every corner. My first culinary experience of the day began with a morning stop at the local Somali coffee shop.

I don't normally have coffee out, but as it was my first day of winter vacation, I felt like treating myself. Upon entering the shop on Central Avenue, I realized immediately that I was the only white person there. I was the only one speaking English as my primary language. I'd wager I was the only non-Muslim as well, as I was the only woman without a hijab. This does not happen to me very often, not unless I am traveling really, which is a white privilege that is my norm. So I took a moment and scoped the place out, soaking in the uncomfortableness of being different as I read the menu. I ordered my caramel macchiato, thought about buying some samosas, and was on my way.

 Being uncomfortable wasn't necessary a negative experience for me today. It keeps me thinking about my place in the world and the things I still need to know. What I know about Somalia, I've learned from the news, which is primarily negative. As a country that borders Ethiopia, I've learned some about the conflict between the two nations, again a negative situation, and the reverberations of that conflict between the two communities here in our city. But that doesn't stop me from appreciating the resilience of a people pushed from their worn torn nation to start over in the cold north of Minnesota.
And I continue to learn more through food.

Tonight I made two Somali recipes. One is a repeat for this blog, Ambabur Bed, an egg crepe usually eaten during Eid, made from Extending the Table. My mother has made crepes every Christmas since I can remember in one of our family traditions. This year Ian asked if we could bring these Somali crepes to the party, which was wholly welcomed by my mother, a long time member of the global community:) So I made crepes for tomorrow morning brunch. But the food didn't stop there.

Yesterday was Ian's birthday, and from his Granddad and Grandma in Scotland he received a wonderful cookbook, Kids Cook the World (added to my main page!). I told Ian he could pick any recipe he wanted for dinner tonight, and he chose Somali rice with vegetables, a simple dish loaded with veggies and spiced with cinnamon, clove and cardamom. It was delicious. As we cooked Ian and I talked about the difference between the words Somalia and Somali, and read about halal cuisine on the pages preceding the recipe. One of the highlights of this particular book is not only the cultural information that accompanies each recipe, but the pictures of the children cooking the meals. There are many more brown faces that white in its pages, a rarity for my son, who will deal with uncomfortableness at the very least as he maneuvers through the world with his beautiful brown skin.

I'm not done thinking about Somalia by any means as the day winds down. Or my white skin and my son's brown. This is a life long journey that I hope holds many more uncomfortable moments and delicious meals.

Zakin Ridi (Nigeria)

Anticipation is ruling our house these days. The holiday season is upon us, which includes family celebrations in addition to several birthdays that fall the week before and after Christmas. This means presents, late nights with games and laughter, a trip to our favorite Ethiopian restaurant, and an abundance of Good Food!

The boys have a basic understanding of this season. Ian can draw a manger scene with all the notable attendees, while Suki oscillates between shouting "Merry Christmas" and  "Happy Bir-day, Jesus." Both can sing a mean version of Jingle Bells and a lovely Away in a Manger. And of course, they know about presents. While we down play the whole Santa mythology of the season, he sneaks his way in through other kids and relentless advertising.

My own anticipation is percolating as well. As an enthusiastic eater, I have no problem admitting to the joys of holiday eating. As I was making today's recipe, Zakin Ridi, a sesame cookie with just a hint of sweetness, I noticed the Swahili proverb on the bottom of the page in Extending the Table. "Eating is sweet; digging is weariness." Many of my posts reference my own daily 'digging,' the day to day grind of the working parent, but this season is a time for me to let go a little. I'm on vacation the week of Christmas after all. So I have a few more recipes in the works for the holidays (which means a few more blob posts:) that I hope will bring meaning and joy from reaching for new global experiences and traditions to weave into this celebration.

Today's cookie is already a merging of two traditions. The Christmas cookie is a staple of the season as I've come to know it, but I am not a keen cookie baker (despite my cooking adventures), though I won't pass up a sweet treat. We usually make cookies with my mom and the cousins, or John's family, and I take on more of a supervisory role. But today I made these cookies, mainly because the directions said that you could cut them to any shape you like. So I made snowmen, stars, bells, trees, candy canes, and stockings. The second tradition comes from the Nigerian cultural anecdote on the same page of the recipe. In Nigeria, the tradition is to share food on Christmas day with friends and neighbors because "food is a symbol of joyful sharing." Indeed! These cookies are on their way to my mom and stepdad and my coworkers.

One of the delights that comes from this blog is wondering where in the world people are reading this. If you have a tradition that involves sharing food, at any time, not just a holiday, please consider commenting here. The journey to experience a global community can be a shared one! 

Com Chien (Vietnam)

Tonight was the perfect night for a dish thrown together with leftovers, and the Com Chien, fried rice, was perfectly hot, tasty and satisfying for our weary family, still recovering from celebrating Ian's birthday with two back-to-back parties. There was rice, a bowl of peas, a pork chop, the last egg in the house, a quick sauce, and done. Family fed. Early bed.

This busy weekend marked an early birthday for our soon to be five year old with a friends party, family chili dinner, and a Christmas exchange to top it off with John's mom and brother. The first wave of guests were kids from school and daycare, who partied with a room full of balloons and a birthday crown art project.

 But there was one little guy, Yuijin, who was just not about to have any fun. He sat on the stairs in his coat while the other kids worked to bat an entire bag of balloons up into the air. He could not be cajoled to join, though he stoically glued puff balls and pipe cleaners onto his crown for the art project. When it came time for treats, he declared he did not like cake, cookies, pretzels or juice boxes, and laid his head forlornly on the table, crown perched precariously, while the others ate. Finally, when it was time to open gifts, Yuijin simply pulled the Lego kit he brought out of the bag and handed it to Ian.

The party was a success in all other ways measured by the giggles and whooping and popping balloons. Yet I couldn't get little Yuijin out of my mind. What little kid doesn't like balloons and cake and presents? Well, probably a little kid who celebrates his birthday or special days in other ways. I had to shake my head a little over my own ignorance. We try so hard to build cultural awareness for our kids, but fell back on tradition without a second thought with this party.

There isn't much I would change (the party was awesome!) but I would have asked Yuijin what he liked or how he celebrated birthdays. I don't know if I would have been able to accommodate him in that moment, if I could have stirred in another element to the day.  But maybe he would have felt more at ease. I just know that as I encourage my kids to reach out to others and embrace diverse friends, I need to be prepared to walk my own talk.

Cafe con Canela (Mexico)

My cookbook, and the blog subsequently, have been gathering a little dust these last two weeks, so I decided to kick start my weekend with a new recipe, perhaps the easiest one of the in Extending the Table. This morning I started the day as I usually do, with coffee in the kitchen as I fed the boys, but the Cafe con Canela, Mexican Coffee, was a sweet infusion of spice to get me back on track.

I've been bogged down at work lately. The end of the first trimester and the start of the second for the school year wiped me out. The extra grading, intensive teaching days, and new student song and dance leave me falling back on the frozen meals I prepared back in August when I was fresh and rested from a long vacation. And, of course, the ever-so-tempting ease of a prepackaged meal that needs only heat and serve.

So my morning coffee seeped with a little sugar and a cinnamon stick jolts me out of the rut today. It usually doesn't take much to alter the well-tread courses we fall into on occasion. We need the comfort and routine and the falling asleep on the couch of those ruts just for survival's sake. But then we shake off the cobwebs, open the spice drawer, and re-imagine the day as we know it.

Chasoh Juhn (Korea)

"Solitude is not happiness. Solitude kills. Life together is happiness; it is joy." Bodaado woman, Niger

This gem was printed adjacent to the recipe I prepared from Extending the Table for dinner, Chasoh Juhn, vegetable croquettes, from Korea. Now these are strong words for an introvert like me. Solitude is a restorative. Solitude is a necessative. Solitude is sinking into a trashy novel with a hot cup of roibos tea, Vivaldi in the background, without refereeing spats, redirecting mischief, or wiping bottoms.

Yet I have a life together, with two boys that giggle and whine and stomp their feet as they smash towers to the ground. I also have a partner who shares in the noise, graciously allowing me my moments curled in my favorite chair with a fuzzy blanket. And lately planted in front of my laptop typing away on my lastest project.

This shared life is my greatest joy, however noisy it might be. So I find my solitude creatively these days. Cooking is one of those outlets. With my kitchen open to the main living area of the house, I can lose myself in a recipe, potatoes, carrots and cauliflower grated and fried golden into a delicate croquette. I surface, of course, to redirect the rowdiness and kiss away the bumps. And I expand my culinary joy with little hands that pour in the sugar and salt and stir the batter with two hands on the spoon.

And we share meals, like Chasoh Juhn. We share the day between the bites. What's the story about this week at preschool? (Firemen!) Why did the littlest get a time out at daycare? (Launching through the window of the playhouse!) What veggies are in this croquette? (Two out of three ain't bad!)

There will be moments for my introvert nature can grasp a moment or two of solitude throughout the day, but for now I am going to embrace the noisy joy.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

This week I've been thinking a lot about food, more so than usual if that's even possible. Naturally, Thanksgiving has been the focus of much of that thinking. What to make, what ingredients to get, when and how to make it, what ingredients I forgot the first time I went to the store, the usual. Then came the feast. Turkey, stuffing, gravy, cranberries supplied by my mom, while I made sweet potato casserole, corn pudding, green bean casserole, and pumpkin pie. Both of us got so busy cooking and chatting that we forgot the mashed potatoes! Everyone agreed they weren't necessary with the bounty before us. It was a lovely day in which we were all well fed in good company, for which I am thankful.

I've also been thinking though about those without food this week, again more so than usual. My school has a food shelf for the students, and our family commits to weekly donations. Each week I clip coupons and scan the circulars for deals, then use the savings to purchase a bag of groceries and toiletries. This is a very, very small effort on our part to begin addressing hunger in our own community, but one that is a lesson for our boys. They help pick out items as I explain the need, and then see me leave for work each Monday with our offering.

I've been thinking about the abundance in my life. I've never used a food shelf for the purposed of feeding my family. My experience with these organizations are as a donater, supporter, or volunteer. I've always felt full when I've wanted to feel full. That is not the experience of my children though, who have their own unique histories with eating and hunger, ones that have shaped our family. These experiences have molded them in ways that we haven't even fully begun to realize. And so we think about food.

I've been thinking about what it might feel like to be on the other side of the shelf. This year my son's school won a grant from Target for a media center makeover. Part of this grant included Target providing groceries to every family in the school, once a month, to promote healthy eating. This week I went to my first distribution and even with the knowledge that this was a gift, it was a very humbling experience. It was very organized, with volunteers shuffling us quickly through the line. I held out my bags at each station to the smiling volunteers who offered milk, potatoes, pasta, meat and more, confirming I only had one child in the school, which determined how much I received. I could decline items if I chose, but I took one of everything they offered, not wanting to seem ungrateful, though there were some I wasn't sure I would use. I said thank you after each product I received, and though several volunteers offered to help me take my bags to the car, I declined, even though the bags were heavy. I left feeling a little overwhelmed by it all. And thinking.

I've been thinking about the process of feeding those in need.  I As I was driving to pick up the food, I was listening to NPR's Talk of the Nation. I kid you not, the host discussed a recent editorial, "It's Time to Can Food Drives" in the Albany Times Union. The author wrote about the ineffectiveness of food drives because  "For the same amount of money spent on buying cans for a food drive, donors can feed 20 times more families by providing cash, not cans." This is absolutely true. I've volunteered at food shelves to know that the best support they can receive is financial. Some callers expressed this same sentiment, and some callers argued for the value of donating actual food. The needs of those were fully affirmed by the guest on the program as valid. She just wanted to let people know that sometimes cultural, medical or even logistical issues prevent people from eating the food that is given to them. If you've never eaten sauerkraut, then getting a can of it may not be the most practical meal.

So this is my food for thought (sorry, it had to be said). I don't have any answers for how to address the challenge of feeding those who are hungry, but I can start at home and think and ACT locally and then globally.  I can challenge the few people who read this blog to do the same, and share that challenge with a few others. And I can put my children into their warm beds with full bellies with not only a prayer of Thanksgiving, but a prayer that I may always be of service to others.

Bolo Formigeiro (Brazil)

By now my family has become accustomed to the many recipes I foist upon them as I experiment with this blog and the cookbook, Extending the Table. Whenever I make a new recipe, they are game for the flavors and textures. It's a wonderful thing actually. I love that my boys see eating as an adventure and my hubby supports each new venture with a smile.

Now I've started to venture out though with sharing my cooking. Last week I made the rollos for my SEED class, and this week it was Bolo Formigeiro, Anthill Cake, from Brazil, for the department potluck on conference night. We always have a theme, and last night it was 'salad bar.' Now, I like salad, and as I am not in charge of organizing the potluck, I am willing to participate with whatever is planned. But, for whatever reason, I was not excited about this particular salad bar event. Maybe my Minnesota roots require a little more cream cheese and cream of mushroom in my potluck. So my small act of rebellion was to make a cake that was absolutely decadent.

This cake is loaded with sugar, coconut milk, coconut flakes and grated chocolate, the final two ingredients accounting for the 'ants.' It's also got a whole cup of cornstarch in there to give it a fluffy texture. So good! But I'm not quite confident enough to make a brand new recipe as an experiment for the masses/co-workers, so I made a small loaf of cake for my very best taste-testers to try out the night before. Suki's boisterous "More!" was all the endorsement I needed. Even the rollos of last week was a recipe I had made prior to starting the blog, so I knew it was good enough to share.

Cooking is one way that I show the people in my life that I love and care about them. It is a creative outlet for me to experiment and explore. It is supremely fulfilling to put together a recipe thinking about what it might taste like and how my family and friends will enjoy it as well. I didn't subject my coworkers to a lengthy lecture about the cake and the cultural components involved. In fact, I didn't even mention it was a recipe I would be blogging. I simply baked it with the intention of enjoying the thirty minute dinner break with people I am privileged to work with everyday. This sharing of food is a phenomenon that I am sure cooks around the world embrace, a true cultural connection making us part of a global community.

Pul Goki (Korea)

"A festive Korean meal includes a variety of dishes, perhaps as many as 20. Nevertheless, the hostess will apologize for the inadequacies of her offerings, saying, 'There is nothing here, but eat much!'"
                                                                                                          --Extending the Table

This quote accompanied the recipe I made this evening, Pul Goki, grilled sesame beef from Korea. The dish was easy and delicious in its simplicity. Yet it was this little nugget of cultural information that stuck with me as I prepared the marinade and the meat soaked in the sweet and salty of the soy sauce, sesame oil and sugar throughout the afternoon.

Lately our family, our beautiful Ethiopian-Thai-American family, has met with a variety of tough moments and decisions connected to our cultures. And inadequate doesn't quite capture what I feel inside as I maneuver the complexities of parenting children of color as I confront my own white privilege. There are 20 different factors to consider and confront in even the most simple choices.

Our neighborhood, in the heart of the city, reflects our family. When we leave our home, our neighbors, the patrons at the library, the kids at school, represent a wealth of diversity in which we simply blend and exist as we our. But a short jaunt up the highway and our sanctuary becomes a hostile land where inquisitive glances become incredulous and unwelcome stares. Anxiety and defensiveness take over as I clutch my children to me tightly or secure them in the safety of our cart. Even close to home, the occasional sucker punch sends us reeling. A phone call from a local business questioning my child's integrity based simply on the ethnic tones of his precious name.

It would be very easy to wallow and complain, but we chose this life. I had 30 years of comfort in my white privilege. My children didn't have a choice about the color of the skin in which they walk the world . So I read, we take classes, go to workshops, read some more, discuss it to death, seek out mentors, professionals, art, music, language, toys, books, games, recipes anything that gives us the resources to raise our children to be happy and proud and armed with the tools to maneuver the trials and joys of being who they are. 

At times I've seen the nature of this blog to be somewhat shallow. What can I accomplish in a recipe? But this little project keeps me thinking and gets me talking with my kids. About Korea, and where it is in relation to Thailand, and the amazing women that cook 20 dishes for special guests and how exactly one pronounces Pul Goki. And it broadens their horizons beyond the interior of our home, reminding them that our family is part of a world community. It's one of 20...50...100 pieces that makes this complicated life a life in which there is much to eat.

Rollos (Bolivia)

Every week I faithfully sit at the kitchen counter planning our meals for the week, then writing them in on the calendar. I make sure we have all the ingredients in the house, evening activities and meetings are taken into account and a recipe from Extending the Table is included. While I do most of the cooking, John usually takes a preassigned night and Thursdays are ALWAYS easy heat-up meals or leftovers. This keeps us sane and fed and open for time with the boys.

So today I couldn't understand why it had bothered me all day that I couldn't remember what was for dinner tonight. There were two items clearly on my cooking agenda, pumpkin cookies and rollos, a Bolivian cheese pastry. These are treats I am making for my SEED (Seeking Educational Equity and Diversity) class that I take through work. Cooking for my family from ETT has been so fun, and now I get to share a festive dish with others on a cultural journey as well. I've been thinking about it all week. The problem is I forgot to plan a meal for tonight. That's why I couldn't remember.

When I walked in the house this afternoon I went straight to the calendar before I even took my coat off. No meal. No plan. A wide open evening. I set the boys up at the counter with Playdoh and cocoa, and we chatted away as I made the treats. Occasionally, I would poke around in the freezer or a cupboard for inspiration, but nothing took hold. Instead I focused on the rollos. And the Playdoh cookies, snakes and jewelry my boys proudly displayed.

This is a pastry that is made in anticipation of a journey, a travelling snack sold at bus stops. It makes for an easy meal with its flaky dough stuffed, then topped, with a cheesy mix. I am definitely on a journey. Sometimes I focus so much on the planning though, that I forget about the beauty of spontaneity that comes from the imaginations of my boys.

So tonight I forgot about dinner. John made it. And I enjoyed the ride.

Pilaki (Iran)

Today marks the official end of the fresh produce from my garden. This makes me a little sad after months of eating out of the backyard. Oh, I still have many, many jars of pickles, bags of frozen peppers and pints of frozen tomatoes. We won't suffer through a long winter. Much. But those warm afternoons with my two sweaty boys exclaiming over the organic treasures they uncovered beneath the leaves and vines can't be jarred or frozen. 

The final super started with three very ripe tomatoes perched on the kitchen window sill just waiting for the right recipe, their siblings gobbled or foisted upon coworkers long ago. Paging through my cookbook (ETT, of course) I tried to find an inspiring recipe. The cooler days and early dark led me to a stewed bean recipe from Iran, Pilaki. White beans, potatoes and carrots gave the dish a hearty base, but my tomatoes added a delicate touch to the perfect dish for a fall evening.

And I did manage to make enough to freeze. So when the snow is deep and my boys are ensconced in polar fleece, I'll heat this stew up for the passing taste of fresh tomatoes, by then perhaps merely memory.

Pineapple Pie (Jamaica)

Today I'm coming down hard from the delight of a four day weekend, which means this post may be brief. Over the weekend, I celebrated my 11th anniversary with my fabulous husband, John. We dropped the boys at Grandma's, and went out for Moroccan food and did some shopping. Without kids. On our own. Just the two of us. Did I already emphasize the no kids thing?

Another highlight was that I got to spend an entire day with my new nephew, Elijah. Just seven days old! When my brother went back to work, I spent the day helping my sis-in-law, which meant lots of snuggly baby time:) And the finale of the weekend was spending all day Sunday in pajamas with the boys. As the guys played the day away, I sat back and read a super trashy novel. I decided the perfect end to the mini-vacation might just be some pie.

And because my hubby loves pineapple, I chose the Jamaican Pineapple Pie recipe from Extending the Table. The filling was ridiculously easy. Basically just spicing and thickening up 4-5 cups of fruit, which could be fresh or canned. I even learned that one pineapple equals 4-5 cups, to which I said, "Ha!" Of course, I took the short cut. Why would I fuss with doing whatever it is a pineapple needs to be edible when I could open a can and go back to reading? One of these days, I will gather the perfect, organic, locally grown produce and meat from animals that forage in the plains for grubs and sweet grass, but this weekend was not the time. No, this weekend was for my boys and my hubby and sweet pineapple pie made from a can.

Khao Niew (Thailand), Kunde na Nazi (Tanzania), Speculaasjes (Netherlands)

The last twenty four hours I've been in a cooking frenzy. This four day weekend has inspired me to play catch up for all the frozen pizzas and freezer pastas from these first seven weeks of the school year. It all started last night when I realized that the recipes I picked for this week from Extending the Table are all make ahead types, which happens to be one of my favorite type to make.

See, I love cooking. I love it! And I love my kids. Love them! But they can both be pretty exhausting, especially when the two are put together. So anything I can plan ahead for and even prepare in advance moves to the top of my recipes for the week. Knowing that I was going to be home these fours days, cooking ahead gave me time to take care of overdue tasks (taking the boys for flu shots) and just having fun (taking the boys to the Children's Museum right after the flu shots).

One of the recipes I found in the book, Kunde na Nazi, chick peas in coconut milk, is from the island of Zanzibar in Tanzania. These chick peas simmered in coconut milk and spiced with clove and turmeric were easy to make, but a tiny note in the margins of the recipe suggested making ahead and reheating for the best flavor. Done! Made last night between clearing the table and reading the boys their bedtime story. And because the peas are best served over rice, I decided to go ahead and make Khai Niew, sticky rice from Thailand. Again easy to make, but must be soaked several hours before steaming the rice. Guess how many times I've forgotten that step and ended up with instant rice.

So tonight's meal was essentially done last night, which left the Speculaasjes, Dutch spice cookies. These are cut-out cookies that again, must be made ahead and refrigerated. So I made the dough last night after the boys were in bed, without even telling them, and boom...afternoon activity. The three of us made alphabet shaped cookies, most of the twenty six, in less than an hour.

In addition, I finally attacked the last of the orchard Sweet Sixteens in the fridge. The boys again helped me whip up a batch of apple strudel bites courtesy of a can of refrigerator biscuits, and while they chowed, I peeled and chopped the remaining apples for a batch of crock-pot applesauce. Again, make ahead for something sweet after dinner tonight.

Bang Bang Ji (China)

I have to admit that when it comes to cooking, I sometimes cheat. I buy rotisserie chickens instead of fresh chicken breasts. I buy frozen broccoli that I sprinkle liberally in pretty much everything. And yes, it sometimes sacrifices the taste, but some days, Mondays, we just survive and focus on keeping it healthy. So tonight I pulled both these tricks out for our meal. And even though I was cheating, my selection from Extending the Table was pretty great.

Tonight's recipe was a success before it even hit the table. Given it's name, Bang Bang Ji (chicken), it was bound to capture my boys' interest. One, it's fun to say. Two, it's accompanied by action and noise. Three, it's pretty delicious. As an added bonus a main component of the sauce was peanut butter, which is an ingredient I can sell to my kids any day of the week!

The recipe came with a story about street vendors in China banging sticks to attract customers, which led to the name. The boys thought that was great, especially when I enthusiastically banged the counter to get them to the table. John naturally had to tell the story about how his mom rang a cow bell to round up the four kids at dinner time, which the boys enjoyed hearing even as they stuffed their mouths with the chicken and rice.

And tonight I had a bit of a cooking revelation. This recipe called for cucumbers in the stir-fry. I honestly did not realize you could cook cucumbers (beyond pickling them) in a way that was as tasty as this dish. The combination of the cucumber and the peanut sauce was interesting and very well balanced.  As John put it, this one is a keeper!

Fall Festivities

This fall has been a little bit magical. The stretch of eighty degree weather of the last several days has somehow heightened the rich colors of the leaves, the way they crunch beneath your feet, and those sweet flavors of apple and pumpkin in the kitchen. I almost missed it this week, but managed to pull off a Family Fall Fest to make up for it all.

After my birthday on Monday, I spent the rest of the week alternating between being violently sick to my stomach or extremely sick to my stomach. By Friday I was exhausted, having merely listened to my guys enjoying the fall weather from my bed or the bathroom. I even had to cancel a special recipe I was to make with the boys earlier in the week. So when Ian requested apple pie for Saturday, I was determined to make it happen. In fact, I suggested we make a day of it.

So Saturday morning we began with pumpkin scones. This recipe comes from a giant Byerly's cookbook we received as a wedding gift. The scones are one of three recipes for which I keep the book, and they are delicious. Suki kept asking for more 'cookies' with a very full mouth! I jazzed them up a bit with some jack-o-lantern faces, and we ate our way into the new day.

Next we tackled the apple pie. Of course, that required a trip to the orchard! We drove south along the river, taking in the leaves, until we found a little orchard the suited our purposes, which included a tractor ride around the orchard and pumpkin patch, hot dogs and apple brats, and a peck of Sweet 16s.

After an afternoon of napping to recover from all the apple picking, I started in on actually making the pie while the boys hit the leaves outside. In addition, I set about preparing dinner. About a week ago, Ian and I found a Halloween cookbook in the dollar bins at Target. He carefully paged through and chose his favorite recipes to try. Salty Bones. Mummies. Finger Food. After washing off the leaves, the boys helped to put it all together.

So as our bones and mummies baked and the fingers mouldered, the boys and I put up Halloween decorations and special guest, Grandpa Dan, read monster stories. I even snuck a quick loaf of pumpkin bread in for breakfast the next morning. Really, a pretty magical fall day. 





Srpski Grah (Serbia) & Quesadillas (El Salvador)

Every year for my birthday my husband asks what I'd like to eat for my birthday dinner with the loving intention of preparing my request, regardless of whether it's realistic for him to attempt the recipe or not. He does his best in the kitchen, but most years I either want my mom's home cooking or look forward to celebrating my birthday in my own kitchen, cooking away. This year was a bit of both.

Yesterday the extended family gathered over an old favorite for my birthday dinner. I chose a childhood staple, cheesy potato soup, with an entire block of Velveeta cheese melted for a base. Yes, the entire big block! I paired it with cheesy apply biscuits and artichoke crab dip.  Dessert consisted of dark chocolate cake with chocolate chip icing, this one was made by John and the boys, key lime pie, made in honor of green week at Ian's school, and peach pie, which I didn't eat because I'm allergic. Everyone was well fed.

Today, on my actual birthday, I indulged in quite a few delicious treats, including a couple new recipes from Extending the Table. Friends at school brought muffins and cake, which was a fabulous surprise. For dinner with my guys, the main course was Srpski Grah, country bean soup, a simple soup originating in Serbia, with Quesadillas, otherwise known as cheese muffins from El Salvador and not to be confused with Mexican quesadillas.  Suki quickly decided that the best way to eat these dishes was to dip the muffin in the creamy soup and munch away, while Ian and I worked out just how to pronounce Srpski Grah. The meal ended with left over birthday cake and a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday, Cha-Cha-Cha.

As we ate, I did marvel some at how our world is constantly expanding to the point that I am blessed beyond any birthday wish I could imagine. Sometimes I look at my boys and it takes my breath away that from the far corners of the world, we find each other at the same table, dipping our Salvadorian muffins in Serbian soup. In my life, there is a celebration in every meal.

Abobong Manok (Philippines)

This week was the first hard week of the school year for us. This week was also the first recipe from Extending the Table that was a bit of a dud. It wasn't necessarily a bad week, or even recipe, but it was the first where germs and fatigue and changes all caught up with the fam, and the flavors of the food didn't sit well.

Ian had a yucky, croupy sort of cough-cold thing happening, so I stayed home with him early in the week. The next day daycare called to cancel due to a stomach virus, which was good because Suki started throwing up shortly there after, so John stayed home. Ian still hasn't fully recovered into the weekend, and little Suki has been generally out-of-sorts.

Of course, me staying home with a sick kid, is much different than John doing so. I napped along with Ian, but managed to clean the kitchen and run a quick errand. John did several loads of laundry, baked bread, changed the furnace filter, cleaned all the bathrooms, mopped the floors (twice, because he wasn't happy with the first go at it), dropped Ian at school, picked him up, took him back for a special school event, all between cleaning up bouts of vomit. Yeesh!

This week we were all exhausted, too. One or both of the boys have regularly been asking to go to bed by 6:30. Thursday was a record though with Ian asking for bed at 6:15. Sometimes, they are too tired to eat, so we've changed our evening routine for them. Dinner is much earlier now, which isn't so bad, but the hour after dinner gets a little rough. Plus the boys have just in general been clingy, whiny, and picky all week.

Thursday was my new recipe night. I made Abobong Manok, chicken adobo, from the Philippines. It was a bit of a bummer though, and also marked the first recipe I tried to alter. The recipe called for the chicken to simmer in a sauce with a base of vinegar and soy sauce, which was just too sour and salty from the start. It was also looking bland, so I tossed in some veggies to make it more of a stir fry. Unfortunately, the veggies basically pickled in the vinegar. I will say that is was edible, but no one wanted seconds or left overs.

So we're making a new start of this Saturday, with twelve plus hours of sleep for the boys and mom. And there has been a culinary delight! This week's color at Ian's school was green, so today I made key lime pie. And it turned our beautiful and very, very edible.

Citron Kake (Norway)

This recipe is brought to you by the color yellow. This week's color at Ian's school was yellow, and his coloring page for the week had a lemon on it. I had a lemon in the fruit bowl, and one thing led to another led to Citron Kake, or lemon loaf.

 Some recipes I pick because they seem fun to make or I've always wanted to try this dish, and some recipes get picked because of the enthusiasm of a four year old with a penchant for yellow.

Colcannon (Ireland)

Right now we are a meat and potatoes kind of family. Back to school has been great for all the Steiners, but it has also hit us hard! The early mornings aren't so bad, but the evenings are painful. Twice this week one or both of the boys have been too tired to even eat dinner, so they've gone to bed and been asleep before 7:00. It makes for a nice long evening for mom and dad, but not much quality time with the boys.

So meal time has been about simple and comfort. Even as I write this, John is making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. But one night this week I was determined to cook up a recipe from Extending the Table. This week it was Colcannon, or creamy potatoes and cabbage. It seemed like a simple recipe, but I used several appliances, pots and pans, and utensils before it was all said and eaten. But I had a little Bon Jovi cranked up, the boys played downstairs, and I sang and danced through all the work. Pairing it with Polish sausage and baked corn pudding, I was reminded of the meals my mom cooked for us. Comforting and delicious, we managed to settle down for a meal where everyone was awake and talking about the day.

Most of the recipes in the book are very simple and easy to make, but the newness of some of them can be overwhelming when everyone is tired and dragging. So mashed potatoes, jazzed up Celtic-style was enough for this week, and maybe next...

Melkam Addis Amit!

Happy Ethiopian New Year!

This year the 10th anniversary of September 11th also falls on the same weekend as the Ethiopian New Year. Our choice today was to celebrate with our children a day of new beginnings in our beloved country of America, a country that allows a family like ours to unite and thrive as any other.

Today was a day to revel in our blessings, to contemplate what it means to be alive and well, to engage the senses. Ethiopian food, prepared and consumed today in celebration, is such that it engages all of the senses. The wats arranged on the injera are a kaleidoscope of red, yellow, and green. Rich aromas of berbere, garlic and onions hang in the air. The spongy injera used to scoop up the wat soaks up the spices, which explode on the tongue, countered with the slightly sour fermentation. And then the satisfied murmurs and sighs as our bellies fill.

The morning began with dancing. Ian requested Ethiopian music, so we but on Bole to Harlem and spun in circles and raised our shoulders with many giggles in our pajamas. There was much silliness and the boys decided to trade pajama shirts before abandoning them all together. As I settled in to make Ambesha, our favorite bread of an earlier blog post, the boys played school. Mostly it was taking their toys in and out of their backpacks, but the occasional book was read as well. Their innocence in so precious, to be protected from the events a decade ago that took what remained of my own. I couldn't help but join them in their play.

For the new year, I decided to make Doro Wat, a chicken stew. This is a pretty traditional wat, one served in berbere sauce with a hard boiled egg. This was a new recipe for me from Extending the Table, and I broke from the recipe to make it in the crock pot. Crock Pot Sundays during the school year are a long tradition in our house, and this was our inaugural slow cooking of the year. By the time I had it all placed in the slow cooker, the boys were ready to get going for the day. Ian wanted to wear an Ethiopian outfit for the day, and looked so sweet in his traditional white shirt and shorts. Suki joined in as well in a Learn Amharic tee shirt, and away we went to buy our injera.

When house hunting two years ago, I always joked that I wanted to live within walking distance of the Holy Land Deli, and wouldn't you know it, we ended up pretty close. Fresh spices and breads from the Middle East and beyond are right at our finger tips. We of course ran into an Ethiopian gentleman there, dressed very similarly to Ian, and exchanged wishes for a happy new year as we both bought our injera for the night's celebration. We love the deli, and today I couldn't help but marvel at my Thai kid in his Learn Amharic shirt picking out Greek humus at the Holy Land. Only in America, that's for sure!

While Suki and Daddy napped, Ian and I went to my mom's to share the Ambesha, one of her favorites as well. Again, it felt right, comforting to spend today sharing fresh baked bread and chatting with my mom while Ian and Grandpa searched for pine cones in the yard.

Along with our Doro Wat, I also put together some Alecha, a mild Ethiopian stew with veggies. The cabbage came from the garden and had been saved for this very recipe since we planted it back in June. This bright yellow dish, seasoned with ginger and turmeric, is the perfect balance to the spicy chicken. As we piled the food high on our injera, Ian broke into a spontaneous Happy New Year song, composed on the spot, and sung in his sweet, sweet voice, a sweet, sweet balm at the end of a challenging day to mark another new beginning.

Locro (Paraguay) & Ahm Phul (India)

This three day weekend was a perfect antidote for a busy first week back at school. It started with the potential to be just as hectic as the week prior, with house guests and a fairly major home improvement project, but it managed to be one of simple joys, many involving food and family, of course, starting with a Friday night recipe from Extending the Table.

Now I am not an end of the week cook. Usually as the week rolls by, the recipes become less about preparing a meal and more about heating something edible in a short amount of time. My evidence would be the Hamburger Helper we consumed with drooping eyes on Thursday night. So Friday I found myself wondering why I had planned to make Locro, an enchilada casserole from Paraguay, on my least productive night of the week. What I discovered is that the recipe was a delicious balance of 5 fresh ingredients , garnished with a little salt and cheese, and refreshing in its simplicity. I have to believe that the palate cleansing flavors, compared to the boxed concoction of the night before, set the tone for the rest of the weekend.

My job for most of the weekend was to keep the boys out of John’s way as he and his brother tiled our back porch/mud room. John ‘s mom, Donna, also came to spend time and help with the boys. She brought plenty of fun gifts that she doled out through the weekend to keep the boys busy with artwork or music.  She also brought 6 dozen farm fresh eggs and 2 dozen ears of sweet corn. The boys were tired after their week of school and daycare, and both really just wanted to settle back into their home routine, happy for the Grandma time. We used almost a couple dozen eggs for breakfasts and ate corn Sunday night for our official Labor Day Weekend Grill Out. The highlight of the weekend for me was our backyard campfire. The boys roasted marshmallows for s’mores while we told silly stories of marshmallow boys and sang our favorite Sunday school songs.             

 Over the course of two days, the big guys laid the sub flooring and tile, and the little boys slept a lot. I also tried to keep up with the garden. I managed to stew tomatoes from the garden to freeze, threw together a loaf of bread and canned another batch of pickles between art projects. We ate our fill of fresh tomatoes and cucumbers, as well.  

Today the project was finishing up. After saying good-bye to our guests this morning, Ian found a recipe in a school project  that he wanted to try. It was an easy recipe for granola, so the whole family walked to the store, enjoying the sunshine,  to pick up a few ingredients. While John put down the grout on the porch and Suki slept almost three hours(!), Ian and I mixed up the granola that we will be eating for breakfast this week.  

So despite busyness around the house, the weekend was productive, full of fresh food and a newly tiled parch, which brought family for a fun time. It ended as it started, having dinner with my family, salads with veggies from the garden, and an easy mango whip dessert from India, ahm phul. Ian almost fell asleep at the table, but Suki drank his ahm phul in one giant gulpJ

Ambabur Bed (Somalia)

Big day in our house! Today was Ian's first day in his Hi-5 preschool program. After eagerly packing the backpack and picking out a new school outfit, Ian was off and running as an official student, one who rides the bus and everything. Something we love about Ian's school is the diversity of the student body. Almost 40% of the school is black and 35% Latino, so many of the students are brown like Ian. Many of his classmates are Somali, so tonight in honor of Ian's first day of school and of Eid al-Fitr, which falls today to celebrate the end of Ramadan, I made Ambabur Bed, Somali Egg Crepes, which is a recipe made specifically for this holy day.

For a long time, Ian believed that any brown person he saw was from Ethiopia. Technically that's true for all people, since the origins of humanity have been linked to ET, but that isn't exactly what he understood;) We've slowly been introducing him to concept of race by explaining the different places where brown people can be born and what that means. This is a big idea for a four year old, only complicated by his understanding of adoption! Just recently he asked what country his new cousin, my brother's baby, will be from when it is born in October. I explained the baby will be American and why, yet he still asked what language it would speak and how we all might be able to communicate. He knows so much of the world and what makes a family, but then is limited by the uniqueness that experience.

And the fact remains that many of his classmates are indeed Somalian, from a country right next to Ethiopia. Their journeys to America are much different than his, though they share a complicated history of culture and conflict as neighbors from this corner of the world. Some of that history is quite recent or even ongoing for many members of the Somali community, and I want my son to understand the complexity of the Ethiopian-Somali ties. That will take some time and effort. Today we started with food, soft, warm crepes, rolled tightly and flavored with a healthy amount of clove.

 As I poured the thin batter into my skillet, the rest of the family sat coloring at the kitchen counter, and Ian told us about his day and his classmates. He got to drink juice at school and color a school bus yellow. He made one new friend. One of the boys in his class cried when he had to get on the bus home, and one of the girls  rolled her wheelchair onto a special platform to help her ride on Ian's bus. During his telling, little Suki just demanded his crepes:) There are many different experiences and people that Ian and Suki will encounter in their school days. I hope that we can teach them to be open to how that might enrich their lives and the connectedness that may exist. Ian is certainly ready to get back to school tomorrow, which was made even sweeter by the promise of left over crepes from breakfast in the morning.

Murgir Korma (Bangladesh) vs. The State Fair (MN)

This weekend, my last before the start of the school year, started with a culinary adventure from Bangladesh and ended with the Minnesota cultural phenomenon that is the State Fair. Friday night I cooked up murgir korma, sweet chicken curry with yogurt, for dinner. This recipe from Extending the Table was a fun experiment in flavors. The curry was one built within the recipe. The book did give me the option of substituting 2.5 tsp of curry powder, but where is the fun in that? So I patiently fried ginger, clove, cardamom, cinnamon, coriander, cumin, red pepper, turmeric and salt in with the onion, garlic and oil. It was heavenly, and literally brought John to an abrupt halt when he caught the scent. This recipe actually gave me a lot of 'optionals' which I chose to use. I'd come this far with the list above, why not add a bit more? My only concern was whether the boys would eat it or not.

To our delight, the dish was delicious for all. The curry was sweet and delicate, perfect for the young palates of the boys, who are just starting to enjoy flavors beyond cheese and peanut butter. The boys gobbled up their chicken with little interest in my attempts to talk with them about the origins of the recipe in Bangladesh. Instead we talked about the day's swimming adventure, giggled about this and that, and had seconds. It was the most relaxed I had been all week.

Today we went to the State Fair for a different sort of cultural experience. It is such an event that I can't help but use capitals when I type it out! The Great Minnesota Get Together. It was Suki's introduction to an annual event that he will share with us for years to come and an event that Ian now can't wait to get to. John and I have an eating strategy from way back that allows for making our way around the fair. We share everything we buy so that we get to try more things, even though we eat less of them. There are a few exceptions, like the Pronto Pup and the frozen cider sticks, but for the most part it works well. All four of us shared, in the order we ate them, Pronto Pups, mini donuts, frozen cider, turkey sandwich, sweet corn ice cream, cheese curds, strawberry milkshake, french fries, and honey sticks. It was quite the afternoon of feasting, yet the acts of sitting on the edge of a bench and in the strollers, sharing our food, usually with just one or two spoons, was intimate, even surrounded by a couple hundred thousand people.

These two experiences were such opposite experiences for our family's palate, from a dish made from fresh ingredients and joy to mass produced and fried.  But they ended up really being about the same connection of being a family, sharing, giggling, eating, talking. As time goes by and our family gets busier with sports and activities, when our boys grow to need several Pronto Pups of their own to make it through the day, we may need to be more intentional about creating these moments, but I have no doubt we will. We are building the foundation now, one meal at a time.

Lekatane Jam (Botswana)

This week the boys started to daycare for the school year, and I imagined myself anxiously puttering through the house for endless hours wondering how the boys were faring. Of course, I have been ridiculously busy, the week full of errands and projects, and the boys are having a blast playing with the other kids. So today I finally got around to one of the recipes that I wanted to try, which is Lekatane, or watermelon, jam.


Let me just say that this jam was fabulous! I made my first batch in my pajamas before I even finished my first cup of coffee. See, that's the kind of schedule I put myself on this week. Make jam, go to Costco, make pickles, go to the store, make another batch of delicious jam, stew tomatoes, Hi 5 open house, make bread, and on and on. These are in fact all the things I did today. I was so busy I hardly had a chance to enjoy this sinfully sweet jam with a touch of ginger and a tart finish. I kept sneaking into the fridge for a quick bite between dusting the house and checking my email. All I really wanted to do today was make jam!

I don't know that I am going to learn anything or impart anything to my family if I don't slow down and take the time to enjoy cooking like I absolutely love cooking. Even after I made the jam, I thought, damn, now I have to find time to write about it. And I was really looking forward to writing about it when I started this blog last week! I'm not going to connect to a global community if I'm disconnected from my process at the most basic level. So tomorrow I'm going for a do-over. I'm going to make another recipe. I'm not sure which one. Whatever inspires me. And I'm going to take my time and enjoy the work and enjoy the eating. And that is all that I have planned. For now.

Banana Bread (Jamaica)

I’ve been so excited about starting this blog and imagining all the new and exotic recipes that I might try, that it almost took me by surprise when I actually used the cookbook this morning for a quick batch of banana bread. The two ripe bananas on my counter had been taunting me for three days, and it kills me to have to throw them away, so I opened to the recipe that I have made on an almost weekly basis all summer from Extending the Table. This version of banana bread is easy, not too sweet with just a hint of nutmeg, and the boys love it for their morning snack. It was almost a let down to start with this recipe. Almost…

For the last four months I have followed the same daily routine, almost to the minute at times, to provide our new son Suki with the comfort and safety of the ‘expected’ in his crazy new family and world. Now, God knows I love a good routine, but we have outdone ourselves with the rigidity of our daily schedule. But Suki thrives on this routine. He sleeps. He eats. He plays. He tantrums few and far between. He learns. He loves. In such a short time he has progressed in ways we never expected at this point, all because he knows exactly what is going to happen and when.

So many of us take comfort in the foods we love and the traditions surrounding these meals. These last fours months have been INTENSE, and my sons are old enough that they will remember how we stretched and struggled as a family these last months. It hasn’t all been pretty. But as the years pass, maybe the scent of this fresh baked bread will bring to mind the giggly mornings sitting at the counter, sneaking tastes of batter and watching mom mash banana in her purple bathrobe. Maybe they will feel the comfort of those mornings, knowing that is just an hour a perfect loaf of banana bread filled us up in more ways than one.

It is no coincidence that I am starting this new blog as I head back to work and Suki starts daycare. Things are going to be shaken up yet again in our household. We may backslide some. So I’m planning on feeding my anxiety and angst into these recipes. Which will most likely be served every night at exactly 6:00.

Inspired Beginnings: Ambesha (Ethiopia)

Last week my son Ian requested I make "Ethiopia bread," formally Ambesha, which is a spicy tea bread about two inches thick and topped with butter and berbere. On the surface, a simple, tasty request, easily done over the course of a morning. But really, this bread was about much more. This summer my son has developed an intense interest in Ethiopia, his country of birth. He talks of Ethiopia daily, asks questions about his Ethiopian family, imagines life there, and asks for the flavors that connect him to his history. The bread is about a place that exists in his very soul, that he remembers on an instinctual level.

Last week also marked the first time we took our younger son, Sukris, to a Thai restaurant since he joined our family four months ago. Suki dived into his satay chicken and peanut sauce with such enthusiasm, that I just had to ask if he had eaten this same meal in Thailand. His answer was a resounding yes, with the surprising addition that the elephants there also eat this, too! Even though he is not yet grasping the English to request his favorite meals, Suki shares the same need as his brother to connect with his history, which is much more recent and present in his little mind and heart. He may not have the words yet, but we can provide him with the experiences to meet his needs.

For our family, food is about much more than eating. We share meals daily as a means to connect and maintain open lines of communication. Food is also a connection to culture, history, tradition and more. My husband and I have a shared history of family dinners and seek to continue the tradition with our boys, honoring their pasts and expanding their worlds as we do.

Since that morning I baked the Ambesha, the cookbook with the recipe has been sitting on my counter, beckoning me to flip through the pages and imagine the flavors. It is one of my favorites, given to me by my stepmother several years ago. Extending the Table is a cookbook commissioned by the Menonite Central Community to "promote global understanding and celebrate the variety of world cultures." With over 100 countries and regions represented in its recipes, the book urges the cook to "sit at the table with people you have never met, taste the flavors of their food, feel the warmth of their friendship and learn from their experiences." I am taking their challenge to heart and will be doing my best to cook one recipe a week from the book for the forseeable future. That challenge will be recorded here.

This blog is about our family's edible journey to not only connect with the cultures within our transracial exisitence, but to be global citizens. I am inviting you as readers to sit at our table as well.  My inspiration is Extending the Table, but will not be limited to just the food that comes from this book. I will not be reprinting recipes in the book in this blog. For recipes, go ahead and buy the book! Start your own journey, and check in with me about how it goes. Bon Appetit!