Eating Meat

I get swayed easily by trends. I admit here in this public forum that I pegged my jeans, wore fluorescent colors, had a prairie skirt, etc. I have an iphone. I could go on but it sounds extremely materialistic.

So I've been reading some recently and listening to the news a lot, and I have found another trend I want to follow. I think I want to become a vegetarian.

When I was in high school and college, I experimented with vegetarianism. Mostly, I admit, I did it to piss off my mother, who seemed to love nothing more in life than serving huge dried out turkeys and chickens with no skin. But I took it seriously for a while. Then I got engaged, and what fool wouldn't want two sets of brand new, pretty dishes?

Now, I read Agriprocessors this, environment and sustainability that, and be damned, I've almost convinced myself again. I don't drive a hybrid, but I do have CFL bulbs, green power for my electric, I shop at a farmers market, I try to buy American and I try even harder to buy local. I'm even a member of a CSA. What meat does to our world downright sucks, and although it sure is yummy, I can't feel good about eating beef anymore.

I am disgusted and horrified by the idea that any company would put product before the lives of employees. Clearly I'm naive. But apparently Agriprocessors has sold out their employees and has done things in such a profoundly unethical manner (and inhumane!) that it makes me think twice before buying their meat. So I'm not. I have even decided to give up ordering from my new glatt delivery service from Brooklyn because the owner (over the phone) yelled at me and demanded my name and address when I asked about who does their shechita. Aaron's Rubashkins is all over their website yet he lied to me and told me that the beef and chicken is all from Ali's in upstate NY.

So I'm making a promise here to try to live ethically and sustainably and honorably. I won't buy the Agriprocessors' crap. I won't buy beef. I'll only eat it if that's what is served to me (don't want to embarrass anyone). I will continue to buy chicken and turkey (makes a really good meatloaf) and even lamb every once in a while. If something changes and we discover that it's all so good for us and that Agriprocessors isn't really the devil it sounds like it is, maybe I'll change my mind.

After I eat the brisket that's in my freezer. After all, wasting food is worse, right?

For more information about the Hechsher Tzedek, the move on the part of the Conservative movement to certify products produced by companies that adhere to appropriate ethical standards, read here, click here.

shabbat/lag ba'omer recipe: coconut milk custard

I'm from Texas. Texas means meat meat meat. If they could, my family would eat chocolate-dipped turkey jerky for dessert. If they made meat straws, they'd probably sip their iced tea through them. Israel has nothing on the Kosher meat section of Randal's in Houston.

Maybe that's way I'm so darned happy with my dairy kitchen. It's a sanctuary. My deserts have caused riots. Why do they taste so good? Gee, I don't know...maybe it's the butter, the real cream, the whole milk...

That's why I was so devastated that for about 8 or 9 months, my breastfeeding daughter would puke her guts out if I so much as sniffed a piece of milk chocolate. That was hard. But out of desperation, I made up a desert that actually made those months worth it.

I'm putting it out there now in case any breastfeeding mothers are suffering through the same lactose-intolerance this Sukkot (my favorite holiday, culinarily speaking). And also, it makes a great Lag Ba'Omer dessert, if you're grilling today.

Coconut Milk Mango Custard

2/3 can of coconut milk (I use the full fat kind, because it's creamier)
3 eggs
1/2-3/4 cup brown sugar
1 cinnamon stick
1-2 tsp. vanilla
1-2 champaign mangoes or 3 peaches

Mix everything together and cook on the stove top on medium low for about 15-20 minutes, stirring constantly (after about 5 minutes, when the coconut milk gets hot).
Don't let it come to a boil or the coconut milk will curdle. It's done when it gets thick.

Remove the cinnamon stick, pour into a glass pie pan
peal and slice the mangoes or peaches, and place in a pattern on top
Let cool, refrigerate until ready to serve


Let me just add that I don't like coconut, but I LOVE this custard. It doesn't taste like coconut. It doesn't taste parve.

Ew

I am a “people person.” I aim to please others, others please me. I like hanging out with my friends, family and my lovely husband. When I’m out I need company to pee. I love a great party. And I don’t go to the mall alone because how am I supposed to pick out a scrunchie without getting a second opinion?

I love people. I really do. But I also truly appreciate alone time. And not because when I’m alone I can get more done. Or focus better. I just like being alone because then I don’t have to be such a lady. I don’t feel the need to cover my nose when I sneeze or stifle a burp. I can trim my toenails or wear socks that don’t match. I can be….well…I can be gross. We all have our gross moments, mine happen when I have no witnesses.

That being said, after my daughter was born I was never alone. I put her in her bouncy so she could be with me when I showered. I loved that Bumbo because then she could sit and watch me eat. I got her first good laugh after I had a good burp. The only way I could convince her to let me trim her toenails is if I showed her on my little piggies first.

She watched, but didn’t judge. She didn’t laugh at Naked Mommy or tell me to close my mouth when I chewed. She didn’t say, “Wow! How could something so big come out of something so little!” Really, she was there but sort of as a nonjudgmental offshoot of me. I felt alone even though I wasn’t.

That would all change though.

I knew the jig was up after I had a “gas issue” while rocking her to bed one night. Every time she got rocked into any….aroma… she started to cry. Yeah. That was embarrassing.

She was becoming more and more aware, just like all children are supposed to do, and it was largely for the better. So not only did she notice what we did around her, she would copy those behaviors in public. And while it would be sort of funny to have a daughter that burps like a man and farts like an elephant for the first few years of her life, it would not win her any dates to the prom. We knew she wouldn’t learn manners unless we displayed them. So we still burped but always said excuse me. We chewed with our mouths closed. And I guess that’s what Mommies and Daddies are supposed to do, but man life wasn’t as fun…or gross.

I guess it has all paid off. Given that she is only 2 ½ she has already turned into quite the little lady. She covers her mouth when she coughs. She blows her nose into a Kleenex. She says excuse me when any part of her body makes a noise (even if she does it with a giggle).

The down side is that we seemed to have created an I Am A Lady Monster. She calls us out for every sound we make, every time we dare chew with our mouth open….yeah, all that with-her-yet-still-alone gross time is gone. Thankfully we aren’t that polite in general or we’d be getting in trouble for not crossing our legs appropriately or having our elbows on the dining room table.

So we’re working on that now. How to kindly point out there is a gigantic piece of spinach in Mommy’s teeth. Or how not to yell out “Daddy’s STINKY!” in the middle of Target. In the mean time I have begun to appreciate the 9 hours a week she is in school, as long as the cat doesn’t “Meeeeeeeeew” instead of “Meow.”

The New Job

Here we go...

The good news: I found a new job!
The bad news: I found a new job that started last week.

I have no complaints. I am truly blessed to have found a really interesting job that is a fifteen minute walk from my house. I'll be able to flex time and be home many days by 4pm. Best of all, when Chamudi turns 2 he will go to school in the building where I work. And that's not even counting the comped tickets to all kinds of cultural events and the free gym membership.

All great things. But the imminent start date meant that we had to figure out childcare pronto. Though the next few weeks are a bit tough (sorry, Abba), we have found a temporary nanny-share that will take us from mid-June to mid-August. After that...well, we'll get there.

Meanwhile, I've begun leaving Chamudi in the morning to go to work. It's better when he goes to shul with Abba and is out of the apartment before I leave, but even then he looks a bit bereaved. It's tough for both of us. But twenty minutes later he's playing, and I'm immersed in work, and we're both okay.

I just hope that--despite all the changes in our routine-- nothing fundamental is changing about our relationship.

My work life promises to be more exciting than even before--but also much more demanding. It's definitely a new chapter in the life of our family.

Wish us luck!

Seeing Dan Zanes (Or Was It Bono?)

Yesterday we took our son to the Dan Zanes concert in Strathmore Hall. When I bought the tickets three months ago, he was in an obsessive Dan Zanes phase - watching the Dan Zanes and Friends DVD, All Around the Kitchen exclusively. He has since moved on to Uncle Moishy, so I was a little worried that we had jumped the shark.

No need to worry. It was thrilling for everyone - especially my kid. This seriously was the three-year old equivalent of a U2 concert. When the band walked out, the crowd went wild. We danced in the aisles and sang as loudly as we could when he played a song we knew (aka a song from the DVD). My son brought his guitar and strummed along for most of it.

And it was such a manageable concert. Each song lasted no more than 2 minutes. The whole thing was over in an hour. And it just was so much fun. Dan Zanes sings what he calls "family music" - and it truly is just that - music that each person in the family can enjoy and connect to. Dan Zanes himself is a master performer - making each person there feel like his special guest.

The highlight was watching the expression on my little guy's face. He wasn't smiling exactly, but he obviously was enraptured. He did not take his eyes off the stage for an instant.

I was a little surprised when this morning he still requested Uncle Moishy. But maybe he needs a little time after this live experience to go back to watching the video.

I am definitely over-analyzing.

Love

Who doesn’t love love? I’m a hopeless romantic disguised as a cynical little pragmatist. It’s not just because I’ve never married that I idealize love. No, I’ve had excellent examples. After 60 years of marriage, my grandparents threw themselves into one another’s arms and held hands all day like teenagers after their very first night apart. My parents, who celebrate their 40th anniversary in two weeks, still hold hands. All the time. And have a very active love life (my mother can’t refrain herself from discussing the cuter, sweeter aspects at breakfast sometimes), and adore one another with all the adoration in the world.

All my life I’ve basked in the glow of the various kinds of love in the world. And I’ve reveled in the luxury of something my grandmother and mother never had: girlfriends.

It’s not that marriage and good women friends are mutually exclusive. It’s not that one is a substitute for the other. But it’s harder to develop girlfriends when you marry your best friend at 18 and have a basically blissful marriage.

My mother has only recently discovered them, and I swear she giggles sometimes when she talks about them.

Girlfriends are the salt on the tomato, the honey in the tea, the cool breeze on a warm day. Your husband gives you a terrible present? You don’t have a husband? You’re poor as dirt but feel the need for pampering? Call your girlfriends together and throw a clothing swap! It’s way, way better than shopping. Then you can walk around saying things like, yeah, this skirt used to belong to a rock star. Really. And these pants? A novelist/architect….It’s more fun than saying, “I got this at Saks.” (It’s also a great way to MAKE girlfriends if you don’t have many). Do it around brunch and call it kid-friendly.

So right now I’d like to give a shout-out to the Jerusalem Gfs I spent this Shabbat with. T. is our hotel/babysitter/concierge in Jerusalem, and a great cook, a witty conversationalist, and a shockingly adventurous person (so lots of stories about dog sledding and white water rafting). L. took time off from studying for her Lsat the last two weeks of my pregnancy to walk 6 miles a day with me every day. She went to the farmer’s market with me and the humongous sports stroller every Sunday after the baby was born, and before she was born, defended my right as a pregnant woman to have a cup of coffee to a busy-body café staff. A. is the mother of two-year-old twins. She’s writing her dissertation and teaching in at least 4 different programs all over the Israel. Yet she always finds time to sends me poems, to hate the same famous poet I hate, to call me whenever anything is going on in my life, and she tells me my daughter is the cutest thing, though she’s got two cutest thing twins.

In the States there are too many to name, but one example of wonderfulness is LSW, who I knew in Texas. Though she was teaching about 7 classes a week at the local university, had 2 children, was pregnant with the third, was the wife of the president of the shul (who was also the day school’s principal, as well), she always had clean sheets and an 8-course meal for me every Shabbat I stayed with them. Now with three children and a job in the new and cold city of Chicago, she invites me over any time I want, tells me I’m wonderful, and pampers me.

Now that I’m in a very satisfying relationship, I’m faced with a new and delightful dilemma—how to maintain the life support system of girlfriends and still have time for Mr. (almost)Perfect. Luckily, my girlfriends have been tremendous examples. But I think it will be a balancing act for a little while. Ladies, be patient with me, please!

I’m only sad that the center of my social life in DC, is moving away. It’s for a very good reason—she’s marrying the man of her dreams. She probably doesn’t understand that she’s the center of my social world, and without her DC may as well not exist. But, since friends are supportive and love one another, I’ll accept that forced sacrifice with as much grace as I can.

Shabbat Recipe: Easy Spinach Noodle Kugel

It's always a crowd pleaser, and takes almost no time to make: spinach-noodle kugel. Here goes:

INGREDIENTS
1 package egg noodles, cooked and drained
Spinach, about 3/4 of a bag, chopped or shredded by hand
4 eggs (works also with 3, if you want to cut down, or with 2 eggs and 2 whites)
1.5 cups nondairy creamer (or cream or milk)
Onion soup mix, half a bag of the regular or a full bag of the low-sodium variety
Half a stick of melted butter or margarine (or, I generally use less and supplement with olive oil)
Can of sliced mushrooms (optional)
Salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350. Grease a 12'' x 9'' Pyrex or tin. Combine all the ingredients and mix well. Pour into Pyrex or tin. Cook covered for 40 minutes, uncover and cook another 15 minutes or until top is lightly browned.

Enjoy! Shabbat shalom.