The Dinner Files

It’s another “good, bad and embarrassing” item on The Dinner Files: My son’s lunchbox. I took the picture this morning, but I could have taken it any school day morning since the end of September when we fell upon a lunch he would eat, not throw away, not complain about, and which didn’t make me feel too horribly bad. Two cheese sticks (yes, all local and organic–that’s how I roll), carrot sticks (usually from carrots from the farm box, otherwise all local and organic because, again, that’s how I roll), a handful of dried blueberries (the “wild” and unsweetened ones from Trader Joe’s because they are the same price as the not wild and sweetened ones and while still almost unbearably expensive they are much less than at Rainbow Grocery where I mostly shop and I’ve tried sneaking dried cranberries or currants or other dried fruit he usually eats but it comes home uneaten and fresh fruit leads to actual complaints). Today he got to take 3 “chocolate monies” in his pocket (they were leftover from the Lunar New Year celebration last week) for dessert. Usually there is a cookie in the box instead, sometimes homemade, sometimes not. I like to put the cookie in because then at least there is some starch (and since I usually put some amount of oatmeal in a cookie, it has some whole grain). I’ve tried adding crackers or rice cakes which, again, he loves at home. They come home all smooshed and crumbly in the box. Untouched, uneaten, and unloved.

I’ll give the lunch this: It is very easy to put together. Especially if, as I do, one makes all the little bags of carrot sticks at once and has them in the fridge, next to the cheese sticks, ready to be thrown in the Lightin’ McQueen box.

For dinner last night? Oh, we sort of had Pearl Couscous & Peas with cheese melted on top. I stirred in some harissa in mine too. The boys were full and tired from their day o’fun at Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk.

Pressing deadlines and a fridge full o’veggies meant we had this very odd vegetable stew for dinner last night. I made the mistake of referring to it, briefly, during the cooking process as “couscous” (cuckoo!), because I used the spice mix I made to make a most delectable dish inspired by Algerian restaurants in Paris and published in a formal way in Sunset magazine, so Ernie cried when I served it to him and it had, alas, no couscous. There was too much of this… stew that needed to be eaten (oh, that’s always a lovely way to think of dinner) to fill up on couscous (wow, I was fun last night, wasn’t I?). Plus, I had no time to be making couscous. Oh. That’s just sad. That means I didn’t have five minutes to pull together.

If for some reason you want to make a sumer veggie stew, make the ras el hanout in the Sunset recipe. Sautée 3 small summer onions, chopped, in olive oil with plenty of salt. Add 5 cloves minced garlic and an inch of freshly shredded ginger. Add more salt. Add 2 dried chiles (arbol!) and 1/2 tsp.saffron (I’m still working on the collection from when two of my dearest friends were Spanish historians and made regular pilgrimmages to Iberia and returned with scads of cheap saffron; now they’re both married with two boys apiece, so no more free saffron for me!). Sprinkle in 2 tsp. of the ras el hanout, sautée a bit more. Add bout 4 cups chicken or veggie broth (an aside: anyone have a good recipe for vegetarian broth?). Bring to boil. Add a mess of chopped green beans and zucchini. Bring to a boil again. Add chick peas, some leftover cooked potatoes, and kernels from 2 ears of corn. Again, boil. Stir in 5 chopped dry-farmed heirloom tomatoes. Add more salt. Serve topped with harissa and preserved Meyer lemons from the tree in your backyard, or, you know, whatever you find in the back of your fridge.

My Very Tall Cousin Sam came to dinner last night. The evening was marked by two big events. First, Ernie let go a bit too soon while showing off on his trapeze for Sam. He gashed his head on the pea gravel and bled profusely. Sam, who was in town for a job interview, carried Screaming Ernie up the back stairs to the kitchen trying simultaneously to comfort the child and, understandably, not to get blood all over his nice clothes. Once we got the blood cleaned up we all realized the cut was small. Ernie was back outside with Very Tall Cousin Sam within three minutes.

Second, I perfected the spring vegetable couscous (cuckoo!) that has haunted me lo! these many days. We ate it with grilled peppers and spicy Italian sausage from Boccalone, a cured meat CSA in the Bay Area (what won’t they think of next…).

The nice people at Lindsay olives sent me some samples of their “Naturals” line. Ernie is a fan. He not, however, a fan of having his picture taken:

We had a first course of creamy fava bean soup that my dashing husband declared was “like restaurant food.” The comment was mainly observation, with a dash of compliment on the side. It was rich and creamy (what with the heavy cream I added) and perfect, as long as one only ate a little of it. A huge bowl would have rendered me ill. But a tiny ramekin of it topped with minced chives was divine. Shell 3 pounds of fava beans. Blanch them in salted water for 3 minutes. Run through a food mill or shell them again. Cook resulting beans in 1/2 cup chicken broth until very soft, mushy even. Whirl in a blender until super-duper smooth. Heat over lowest possible heat, add salt to taste, and stir in 1/4 to 1/2 cup heavy cream. Serve in tiny portions garnished with minced chives. The chives are key. Do not skip the chives.

Our main course was my attempt to fix the spring vegetable couscous (cuckoo!) I made last week. Sadly, I must try again (yes, I’m secretly pleased because even the less perfect versions are delic!)–someone, and I’m not saying who (me?) bought two bags of English peas and no snap peas AND I forgot to ask my intern not to shell and use ALL the favas yesterday. The couscous (cuckoo!) lacked the wide variety of spring vegetables I had planned, but the peas and spring onion couscous (cuckoo!) with feta was tasty. I’ll work on it. I’ll get back to you.

p.s. Happy Birthday Mom!

Our “farm box,” as Ernie calls it, arrived this afternoon. It also had salad greens (whisked away to the refrigerator a.s.a.p.), kiwis (given away to neighbor who LUVS kiwis and gets a smaller, kiwi-less box), and a paper bag I guessed what was in and hid for after dinner.

At the suggestion of our kiwi-loving neighbor, I made a spring vegetable couscous (or, as my mom often calls it, “coucou”–yes, she pronounces it like the iconic Swiss clock; no, I don’t know why). I used the big, Israeli style couscous (are you hearing “cuckoo” in your head when you read that like I am?) cooked in chicken broth, added shelled English peas, chopped snap peas, and the fava beans I garnered from the 14 pods in our box. We topped the whole thing with chopped spring onion tossed with olive oil, lemon juice and zest, and chopped cilantro. Very tasty. Needed… something. Perhaps that feta cheese the kiwi-lover suggested adding and I forgot about until just this moment? Yes! That’s it! Next time I’ll pay attention and write up amounts and times and other recipe-like details. (Or, feel free to experiment yourself and report back.)

That paper bag I squirreled away? Beautiful, luscious, brilliantly red strawberries. Have I already discussed my dislike of strawberries? Yeah. I don’t like ‘em. Not at all. Not even when they’re really good. These were beautiful, though. And they smelled a lot. I can only assume they would smell great to people who actually would like to ingest a strawberry. A fact borne out by Ernie’s avid consumption of all 10 strawberries. My dashing husband just let him go at it and forsook all claim to any berries. What a martyr.

Ernie doesn’t like to smile for pictures anymore. His new mode is either to run away when a camera appears or to stare glumly into the lens and look directly into your soul until you run away. I got this shot with maternal teasing. It wasn’t right, but it had to be done. Now the grandparents have something to show their friends when they look at the internets.