Em-i-lis in Review: February 2013

Mercifully, though some schools went for the two-hour delayed start today, the boys are back and I am more in love with their school than ever for commencing this Thursday on time. Also, after we finished watching Captain Phillips last night (average), T suggested I sleep in the basement so that I could get some real rest and he would take care of the boys this morning and bring them to school. I did not stir until he peeked in at 8am. BLISS. My mom arrives in a few hours so I don't have much time now, but did want to say hi to you, get back in the saddle (feels like sparse posting lately), and share another month in review.

THE BEST OF EM-I-LIS: FEBRUARY 2013

I took my second class of 2013, this time Introduction to U.S. Food Systems via Coursera. The instruction was unbelievably dry but I learned some fascinating things and became more committed to eating off the food-industrial complex grid. For a recap, click here.

As you may recall, the Goats Who Yell Like Humans videos went viral, and I was an A1 obsessive. Watching those goats, especially the one in "dialogue" with the Spanish reporter, brings me to hysterical happy-tears. Try it, you'll see.

There were charming highs and lows in my life as mother. See Oliver and the Pompano, Jack and the Ravens tribute (I'm still sad they never wrote him back), and A Pit Day in Parenthood.

Looking back, I loved again this post on all that writing means to me, and I feel those sentiments even more acutely now.

And, it was VALENTINE'S DAY, one of my all-time favorite days.

Some of my favorite photos:

I spent a memorable day, quiet in my kitchen, thinking back over my Aunt Da, one of Nanny's older sisters, while reimagining her tea cookies.

And lastly, I took a very cool cooking class with some friends at a Spanish restaurant downtown. We made various stocks (hence the Pompano above) and loads of paellas. Love this picture of the stocks in prep:

Cookies from generations past, rustic dinner to clean out the fridge

Earlier this year, I made a batch of my Aunt Da's tea cakes. Aunt Da was one of Nanny's much-older sisters (Nanny was a surprise baby by 16 years or something), and I always remember that she made tea cakes, stored them in a metallic purple (or was it blue? silver?) aluminum tin and they always seemed to be in stock. I took some liberties in my reimagination of them: I added Irish Breakfast tea to literalize the Tea Cake moniker; used whole wheat pastry and cake flours rather than all-purpose; and subbed marzipan for the vanilla. They're wonderful!

I haven't made them since then but this week received from my mom some of Nanny's old cookie cutters. I think Aunt Da used them too. It seemed fitting to christen them in my kitchen by making some tea cakes, so this afternoon while Jack was a birthday party, Oliver and I did just that. The reindeer, gingerman and woman, and card suits are my beloved new additions from Nanny's kitchen. You know, it was a real bummer not to address a Christmas card to her this year. I can't bear to erase her name from my card list. Boo!

Tom and I appear to have inhaled vast quantities of sleep dust because we are already in bed and have wanted to be for hours. HOURS! However, before we donned jammies, I made a clean-out-the-fridge-and-pantry meal and really was quite pleased. I roasted some cubed rutabagas and chopped carrots; caramelized an onion and a leek with some garlic, a daub of mustard and a splash of white wine; threw it all together with some tomatoes and white beans; broiled some multi-grain bread with shaved Gruyère on top; fried some bacon; and basically put it all together as prettily as possible. Very satisfying!

Aunt Da's tea cookies, reimagined

My beloved grandmother, Nanny, was a surprise baby, coming along when her two older sisters were teenagers. I never met Aunt Elia as she died before I was born, but I grew up not far from Aunt Da (short for Hilda). She was my mother's favorite aunt, and I remember her and her home with such clarity. The house, the one in which she, Nanny and Aunt Elia grew up, was on a corner lot in the old part of Lake Charles, right near the train tracks. My sister and I used to go put pennies on the tracks, quickly scram until after the trains whizzed by, and then eagerly go and fetch our flattened, paper-thin, copper treasures. Aunt Da's front porch housed several of those old fashioned metal lawn chairs that come in a spectrum of vivid hues and in her backyard she grew all sorts of flowers and hung her laundry to dry. Her kitchen was at the rear of the house. Good smells ceaselessly emanated from it, and she always had a stash of something yummy in the icebox (as she called it) or on the counter: a lemon meringue or french silk pie or a canister of tea cookies perhaps. Her kitchen sink was deep, one of those old enamel types that's forever cold and will last forever. Aunt Da used to wash my hair in there. Her strong, gnarled hands so capably and gently massaged green Prell into sudsy mounds which she'd rinse with cold water shot through with a bit of white vinegar, if memory is accurate.

She died when I was in middle school I think. It was so long ago, I can't truly recall, but I know my Mom missed her daily for years afterwards and dreamed of her regularly. There are still pictures of Aunt Da at Mom's house and at Nanny's too. They all capture her kindly, wrinkled face, a countenance in which you could see years of hard work but also a strength and depth of love that seemed never-ending.

This morning, I found myself thinking of her tea cakes, simple cookies made with butter, flour, sugar and so forth. Nothing fancy at all but always good, and the sort of thing that immediately zips me back to her kitchen, time spent with her. I pulled out her recipe and sought to reimagine it a bit: could I use marzipan instead of vanilla? could I make them just a tad less dense by switching from all-purpose flour to a combination of cake and whole wheat pastry? What about making them more literally TEA cakes by adding some loose tea? All of these ideas came to fruition beautifully, deliciously, and I think Aunt Da would have enjoyed these. Hers were always wonderful but these are truly lovely too. I'll post both recipes for you soon.