Entries from May 2010

Sweet BBQ Salmon and Campfire Potatoes

May 27th, 2010 · 9 Comments · Dinner, Grilling, Seafood

I feel like I owe you guys an apology. I’m sure when you read last week that this was Grill Week on Dinner: A Love Story, that you were picturing sizzling ribeyes, creamy slaws, fatty ribs — Not a bunch of healthy lean meats and omega-3-rich fish. (It’s only Thursday, and it’s only May, so don’t worry, there’s still plenty of time to redeem myself.) But I would like to remind everyone that this is precisely why I’m so happy that the Weber is open for business again  – because grilling makes it is so easy to impart deep, rich flavors without relying on a whole lot of fat.

This salmon brushed with candy-like hoisin sauce, will become your go-to fish dish of summer 2010. But the real learning here is the potatoes. Buy them fresh and buy them little, wrap them in foil with a little olive oil, salt, and pepper, then put them on the grill grate for 30 minutes. (Listen to them  – if they sound really sizzly, check to make sure they’re not burning.) When they’re cooked, dump them into a bowl, smash with a fork, just so enough so the flesh bursts out of their skin, pour a little more olive oil on top, a squeeze of lemon, whatever chopped fresh herbs you’ve got (we used mint) and a dollop of sour cream or creme fraiche. (There, that’s not so healthy, right?) We had baby bell peppers and super fresh asparagus leftover from Monday night’s chicken-asparagus-potato-salad menu so we threw those on the grill to round out the plate.

Simple and Sweet BBQ Salmon
Anyone got a kid obsessed with the color pink? Make sure you point out that this fish fits right into the plan — that’s how we convinced Abby to embrace salmon when she was about 3 or 4.

Marinate a 1-pound piece of wild salmon in olive oil and 1-2 tablespoons soy sauce for about 30 minutes.

In separate bowl, whisk together 2 tablespoons hoisin sauce and the juice from one lime. Set aside.

Grill salmon about 3 to 4 minutes per side. Brush with the hoisin-lime sauce and grill, flesh-side down, for another 3 minutes. Serve.

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S’more Pie

May 26th, 2010 · 9 Comments · Baking and Sweets, Grilling

Let me just say that I was not proud of my google history last Thursday — how exactly does one justify spending a solid 30 minutes on keyword searches like these:

homemade marshmallow fluff
marshamallow fluff from marshmallows
marshamallow fluff recipe
marshamallow fluff recipe using marshmallows
how to make marshmallow fluff without corn syrup

You get the picture. But I had a vision — and you’re looking at it right there in that picture. I was determined to find some sort of marshmallowy whip to finish off a chocolate pudding pie recipe that I could then call Smore Pie. And amazingly, all-powerful Google gave me nothing.

After picking up a strong what-am-I-doing-with-my-life vibe coming from her mother, Phoebe said to me: “Why don’t we just roast the marshmallows and put them on top?” With that one question she saved me an hour…and whatever dignity I had left. (more…)

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Grilled Chicken for People Who Hate Grilled Chicken

May 24th, 2010 · 30 Comments · Chicken and Turkey, Dinner, Grilling

We never used to grill chicken. It was… eh. Never quite satisfying. We were always throwing it back on the grill (“does this look cooked to you?”) because we were paranoid about getting sick, or complaining that it was too dry, or overwhelming it with some ketchup-y four alarm KC BBQ sauce that, instead of tasting good, just ended up burning and tasting like ash. Then, last summer, we discovered two tricks that turned some things around for us, chicken-wise:

1. Pounding the cutlets flat, which makes them very easy (and quick) to cook evenly, and
2. Marinating in yogurt, which seems – by some trick of physics – to result in unfailing juiciness.

Though we don’t exactly advertise it to the kids, we pretty much add yogurt to all of our chicken marinades now – we do a curry-ish one, a onion-ginger-cilantro-and-lime one, and the one you see here, which we’re calling lemon pepper chicken. Try it with some good potato salad, grilled asparagus, and some cold rose. The marinade takes all of ten minutes to prepare, promise. — Andy (more…)

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Grill Week!

May 21st, 2010 · 13 Comments · Dinner, Grilling, Rituals

Just wanted to let everyone know that we’ve been firing up the Weber all week long in preparation for…Grill Week!!! starting on Monday here on Dinner: A Love Story. So whatever your Memorial Day plans are — whether you’re feeding kids, grown-ups, kids and grown-ups, bosses, or just your own darling little monsters, come back next week for some inspiration. If you have any specific questions (such as “What do I grill for a Vegan?” or “Do you think Coach Taylor has a fighting chance to turn around East Dillon?”*) feel free to comment and I’ll try to work the answer in to the line-up next week. Have a great weekend and, as always, thanks for all the heartfelt feedback.

*If you do not know this reference, you are not allowed back to my website until you Netflix every episode of  Friday Night Lights, seasons 1 through 4 (currently running). Free cookbook for first person who quotes Tami Taylor in a comment field.

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Hidden Dollhouse

May 20th, 2010 · 12 Comments · Uncategorized

People who know me know that I am prone to the superlative. (“Sweet Home Alabama was the best movie I have EVER seen!”) But here’s a statement no one can contest: In the history of the world there has never been anyone who has enjoyed dollhouse play more than my six-year-old. As far back as I can remember, Abby has been creating little worlds for herself — and it doesn’t matter if those worlds exist inside $250 Playmobil Victorian Dollhouses, on top of antique marquetry boxes, or on a restaurant table where the only dolls available for play are fashioned out of sugar packets. (I’m not making that up.)

So she is the genius behind our kitchen’s hidden dollhouse. Last year, I walked into my living room to find her lying on her stomach in front of a row of my favorite magazines — all opened to stories about decorating. There was one open to a photo spread of a sunlit, cheerful kitchen, one open to a Malibu patio with a pool, and one open to a baby nursery. Her paper dolls were hopping from one “room” to the next, lounging on teak patio chairs, cooking on Viking stoves, and cooing with babies sleeping inside Netto cribs. (Yes, ripped right from Cookie’s premiere issue.) In other words, Abby had constructed her own two-dimensional, temporary, composite dreamhouse.

And I wanted one, too. One that might even get her to stick around the kitchen and talk to us while we cook. So we set to work tearing out pictures of rooms from Ikea and CB2 catalogs and old issues of Martha Stewart, Domino, and Cookie. Once she had her faves, I used blue painters tape to affix each “room” inside an accessible kitchen cabinet door. (You know how I like my cabinet doors.) Then I used the tape to outline  (more…)

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May 19th, 2010 · 8 Comments · Chicken and Turkey, Time for Dinner: The Cookbook, Uncategorized, Vegetarian

I feel any day now that the taco spread (avocados, beans, cheese, chicken, etc) will turn into the “not-again” dinner that chicken was when I was growing up. Whatever dish the fillings go into — quesadillas, mega nachos, taco soup — it’s such a no-brainy strategy for my family since it’s customizable and takes practically no time at all to assemble. Last week, I was pleased to add a new one the rotation: Gorditas. All the same toppings as usual, but the cornbready “cups” were prepared in muffin tins. Pretty exciting stuff for first and second graders.

Adapted from our soon-to-be published Time for Dinner. (Pre-order now!!)

1 8.25-ounce can creamed corn
1/2 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup cornmeal
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/2 cup Jack cheese or cheddar
Any of the following fillings: cooked chicken (shredded or in small chunks), black beans, shredded lettuce, shredded cheddar, tomatoes, sour cream, avocado, lime

Preheat oven to 400°F. In a saucepan over medium heat, combine the corn, salt, and 1/2 cup water. Whisk in the cornmeal and cook, stirring constantly, until the liquid is absorbed, about 5 minutes. Add the butter and cheese, stirring to combine. Remove from heat.

Grease a 6-cup muffin tin. Divide the corn mixture evenly among the cups, pressing it into the bottom and up the sides to create cups. Bake until crisp, 20 to 25 minutes. Let cool for 5 minutes, then turn the corn cups out of the tin. Let kids fill with whatever toppings they choose.

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May 18th, 2010 · 19 Comments · Dinner, Kitchenlightenment

The pre-dinner scramble. (Photo by Jenny Livingston.)

Last week on my Babble blog I asked readers what they thought of Michael Ruhlman’s HuffPo rant about parents being too “busy” to cook for their kids. Actually, that was only a subset of the rant. Most of Ruhlman’s anger was directed at food editors, cookbook authors, and Food Network stars (even Jamie!) for giving rise to the 30-minute-meal industrial complex…thereby validating the message that parents are too busy to cook, thereby placing those busy, unimaginative parents at the mercy of the convenient, pre-packaged, get-it-to-the-table-fast world of processed food.  (Really? You want to bring Jamie Oliver into this?) I wasn’t surprised that it touched a lot of nerves — and I encourage you to read the entire post as well as the comments that piled up over on Babble — but here on DALS, I feel compelled to write a little more it; or, more specifically, about these two quotes because I can’t stop thinking about them:

“Maybe you don’t like to cook, maybe you’re too lazy to cook, maybe you’d rather watch television or garden, I don’t know and I don’t care, but don’t tell me you’re too busy to cook. We all have the same hours every day, and we all choose how to use them. Working 12-hour days is a choice.”


“..[T]he processed food companies make it easy to blow off cooking for ourselves. And we do so at our peril…. America is too stupid to question whether something is good for it or not (‘Marge, it says snack well right on the box!’). And in the very same way we believe that idiocy, we believe these very same companies telling us how wonderful our lives will be if we buy this low-fat Lean Cuisine because it will save us so much time, only 3 minutes! Used to take seven! You’ve got four extra minutes to play with!”

I’m not crazy about the scolding tone he uses here (parents feel guilty enough without a professionally trained chef rubbing it in, not to mention single parents for whom twelve hour days are actually not a choice) and the assumption that cooking for your family is a categorically pleasant, life-affirming experience is oversimplified to say the least. BUT. BUT. BUT. There was something resonant about the message to me. And (more…)

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Peanut Butter Logic

May 17th, 2010 · 15 Comments · Dinner, Pasta, Quick, Sides, Salads, Soup, Uncategorized, Vegetarian

I know better than to apply logic to the process of feeding kids, but there I was doing exactly that a few weeks ago when I spied the perfect recipe for “peanut butter sauce” (aka satay, tahini, sesame sauce, etc.) by my friend and mother-of-two Melissa Roberts.  The logic went as follows:

If Peanut Butter = Surefire Consumption, and Noodles = Surefire Consumption, therefore Peanut Butter + Noodles = Mom Twice as Sure About Surefire Consumption

Jenny! Jenny! Jenny! How long have I been in this parenting business? Long enough to know that the surer you are about something, the greater the likelihood of failure.

I think my six-year-old, sensing my peanut butter-fueled swagger, figured out that she could really twist the knife if she rejected the sesame noodles (which, by the way, were delicious). And so I never really had a chance. Here’s what really kills me: She orders the dish at Chinese restaurants as a matter of course and this homemade version was infinitely better. Which she would have found out had she deigned to take a bite. My only consolation was that I was able to use the sauce to replicate an appetizer which I used to order at my favorite midtown sushi restaurant (RIP Expense Account)…a steamed spinach with sesame paste, also known as Goma Ae. My other daughter likes both peanut butter and spinach but, well, you can probably guess how that one turned out.


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Nostalgia Night: Porcupine Meatballs

May 14th, 2010 · 24 Comments · Chicken and Turkey, Dinner, Pork and Beef, Rituals

The recipe for these sweet, braised meatballs is written on a notecard with company letterhead from Andy’s first job. It’s written in shorthand — I can picture him in his beige, cookie-cutter cubicle fifteen years ago, scribbling down the instructions as his mom dictated the exact amounts of peppers, onions, and beef over the phone… her standing in his childhood kitchen 250 miles away. He claims to have eaten porcupines — so named for the spikey effect of cooked rice inside them — no less than once every three weeks from 1977 to 1989 and they were such a staple in his house that it was one of the half dozen recipes sent to me via snail mail from his mother right after we were married. (Which I subsequently misplaced, hence the call.) Now in our 21st-century home, we seem to be continuing the streak. Though we usually make porcupines with ground turkey instead of ground beef. And afterwards, the kids get to watch a little youtube video on the laptop instead heading down to the rec room for an Asteroid marathon on the Atari. But no matter what decade, it’s an awesome Sunday dinner.

Porcupine prep

Porcupine Meatballs, ca. 1977
Unless you are under four feet tall, you will probably need something acidic (a green salad with vinegary dressing) to cut the sweetness of the braising liquid.

1 pound ground beef (or turkey)
1/2 cup rice
1 tablespoon chopped onion
2 tablespoons chopped green peppers
1 teaspoon salt
1 clove garlic
2 cups tomato juice
4 cloves
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon Worcestershire

Combine uncooked beef, rice, onion, green peppers, salt, and garlic in a large bowl. Shape into small balls, about 1-inch wide.

Whisk together remaining ingredients in a deep skillet and bring to a simmer. Drop in meatballs and cover tightly. Simmer for 30 minutes, flipping over about half way through.

Remove cloves before serving.

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Pork Chops Tonight?

May 13th, 2010 · 10 Comments · Dinner, Pork and Beef, Quick

From: “Jenny” <jenny@dinneralovestory.com>
To: Andy
Sent: Mon May 10 6:41:40 2010
Subject: Pork chops tonight?

If so what should I do for prep?

From: Andy
To: “Jenny” <jenny@dinneralovestory.com>
Sent: Mon, May 10, 2010 6:42:33 PM
Subject: Re: Pork chops tonight?

Awww yeah. Get mustard apples onions ready.

From: “Jenny” <jenny@dinneralovestory.com>
To: Andy
Sent: Mon May 10 6:55:21 2010
Subject: Re: Pork chops tonight?

onion diced or sliced? mustard dijon or grainy?

From: Andy
To: “Jenny” <jenny@dinneralovestory.com>
Sent: Mon, May 10, 2010 6:56:08 PM
Subject: Re: Pork chops tonight?

sliced. either.

Pork Chops with Mustardy Apples and Onions (served at 7:36 PM)

1 large onion sliced
1 apple peeled and slivered
olive oil
3 boneless pork chops
2 tablespoons mustard
2 tablespoons cider vinegar
1/4 cup apple cider (or water if you don’t have it)
salt & pepper

In a large skillet, sautee onions and apples in olive oil over medium-low heat about five minutes. Push to side of pan. In same pan, raise heat to medium, add pork chops and brown about 4 minute a side.

Remove pork chops to a plate. Add mustard, vinegar, and cider (or water) to the pan, scraping the bits from the bottom and reducing for about one minute. Add pork chops back in the pan. Integrate with the onions and apples, cover and cook another three minutes until cooked through. Serve.

the kid plate

We served with a green salad tossed with feta, walnut, pomegranate seeds, and a simple, white wine-based vinaigrette. Other fruit-nut-cheese salad ideas.

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We Have a Cover!

May 12th, 2010 · 18 Comments · Chicken and Turkey, Dinner, Pasta, Picky Eating, Pork and Beef, Rituals, Seafood, Sides, Salads, Soup, Time for Dinner: The Cookbook

…And, perhaps even more exciting, we also finally have an amazon link where you can pre-order our Time for Dinner cookbook. OK…how cool is that cover? I can call my own number here because I had absolutely nothing to do with it. Lia Ronnen at Melcher Media and Bonnie Siegler at Number 17 are the creative forces behind the design — as well as the 75 other cover tries that I am convinced, if decoupaged into shelf-liner, could make someone somewhere a million bucks. (Thanks, guys.)

In honor of this milestone, I’m giving you a recipe (tweaked a bit) that comes from one of my favorite chapters of the book. The chapter is a “starter kit” on feeding the baby called “What’s in it for me?”  where we show how to prepare basic fresh baby purees (avocado, sweet potato, bananas, etc.), then give instructions for how to take those purees and use them as the base for grown-up dishes. (So an avocado mash turns into taco topping, a peach puree is stirred into a Harry’s-style Bellini, you get the idea.) When we batted around ideas for grown-up-izing baby’s pureed sweet potato, Alanna, who wrote the section, suggested mixing in a miso butter with scallions. Apparently people knew about this combination? I did not, but let me just tell you, it’s a revelation — a revelation that my kids have come to like more than a plain sweet potato.

Sweet Potatoes with Miso Butter and Scallions (adapted from Time For Dinner)

2 whole sweet potatoes or yams
3 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons miso (white)
2 tablespoons chives or chopped scallions

Roast whole sweet potatoes at 450°F for 40 minutes. While they are roasting, mix together remaining ingredients. When potatoes are ready, slit them in half lengthwise, scoop out some flesh for the baby and mash with a fork.  Top the rest with miso butter. (For Abby, I scooped the flesh out of the skin and tossed it for her in a special bowl. Seemed to do the trick.)

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Birthday Dinner

May 11th, 2010 · 6 Comments · Birthdays, Holidays, Celebrations, Posts by Andy, Rituals, Seafood, Sides, Salads, Soup

If you’re going to have a site devoted to family dinner, you gotta walk the walk, right? So when I asked Jenny where she wanted to eat for her birthday dinner last week, I should have known what the answer would be: home. I huddled with the kids and asked for some help: what should we make? The only requirement was that it be something everybody in the house eats, and it couldn’t be chicken or pizza. Phoebe wanted steak, Abby didn’t. (“It’s not fair!” she claimed. “Phoebe always gets steak!”) Abby, aiming high, suggested something called macaroni and cheese, but Phoebe doesn’t eat pasta. (“Too slimy,” she said.) So we settled on salmon. The question was, how to make this feel more festive than your normal Thursday night dinner? We needed some good sides. We wanted to make something we’d never made before. I had an idea.

Momofuku Brussels Sprouts

We might not have been going out to a restaurant for a dinner, but what if we had one of our most favoritest restaurant dishes at home? We don’t get out too much these days — i.e., ever — but we did manage a meal at David Chang’s Momofuku about six months ago, and Jenny still talked about his brussels sprouts. They were crazily flavorful, charred to a crunch, salty, cilantro-y, and… didn’t they have, like, Rice Krispies sprinkled on top? I wondered if they were hard to make. Turns out, they’re not. (And because we had a good-looking head of cauliflower in the refrigerator, I decided to use that, too.) When Abby found out that her vegetables on this night would include fried Rice Krispies — not to mention sugar — she shifted, like that, from ambivalent skeptic to unblinking believer.


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You Make it, You Own it

May 10th, 2010 · 9 Comments · Dinner, Organizing, Strategizing, Planning, Vegetarian

Black bean burritos (and one all-cheese for Abby)

I have no idea how this became the unwritten rule of dinner in our house, but when one of us discovers a new recipe, cooks it for the family, and it’s a success, it is the cook’s responsibility to prepare that dinner from that point forward. Forever. We have probably eaten Chicken Cutlets with Soy-Lime Sauce from Bittman’s How to Cook Everything (page 391) two dozen times since 1998, and Andy, who was the first to recognize its potential for brilliance, has prepared it every one of those times. Likewise, Andy has never made “my” maque choux, lettuce hand rolls, or minestrone. It has nothing to do with skills or technique. A meal breaks down party lines purely by provenance…which can come in handy. Last week, when I answered “those Gourmet Burritos” to Andy’s question “What should we have for dinner?” it was as much out of laziness as it was out of a craving for an easy vegetarian dinner. Because the recipe for “those Gourmet burritos” (from the Gourmet Today cookbook) belongs to him.


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For Mom

May 8th, 2010 · 1 Comment · Uncategorized

I hope my mom’s not reading today because this is what I’m giving her for Mother’s Day. Homemade biscotti made from her mother’s recipe. How am I celebrating? It’s a surprise but there was lots of secret backpack unpacking last night so my guess is that I’m getting a few homemade things myself. Have a happy one.

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Bruschetta Night

May 7th, 2010 · 4 Comments · Dinner, Sides, Salads, Soup

Want to know what I’m making this weekend? I wrote the text for a story about bruschetta for the current issue of Martha Stewart and from the moment I spied this picture — I had nothing to do with the recipe developing or the photographing — I have been plotting bruschetta night with the kids. This particular toast has been topped with fresh ricotta, lemon zest, basil, a drizzle of honey. Which neither of my kids would touch no matter how many magic beanies I bribed them with. But they would be delighted with a little prosciutto, melon bruschetta. Or charred carrots. And definitely positively they’d have no objections to the bruschetta with melted chocolate and fleur de sel. Or with just tomatoes and mozzarella or minted peas. I’m picturing a big platter of toasts alongside a healthy selection of toppings so they can figure it out for themselves. My favorite kind of dinner.

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Patty, Pizza, and Purses

May 6th, 2010 · 15 Comments · Dinner, Vegetarian

“Oh my gawd. The crust is epic!” That is what Aunt Patty said when she had her first bite of my latest most favorite party trick — otherwise known as the Jim Lahey pizza that you’ve  already heard me go on and on and on about. This is Aunt Patty we’re talking here  – Aunt Patty of milk-braised pork fame – so we like it when she likes something. Of course, the focus of the evening was not so much on the pizza (split personality pizza, as usual — half mushroom/onion and half mozz/tomato) as it was on the Santa-like sack she entered the house with. Auntie’s appreciation of the finer things in life extends to presents (one might call her an epic gift-giver) and this time it looked like she hit the jackpot with the girls. She had scoured her local thrift shop and turned up two sparkly green vintage handbags which she then filled with random trinkets and treasures procured at the thrift shop, the hardware store, God knows where else. (Where does one find a protractor these days?) Epic.

The contents of Abby’s evening bag: A few Indian rupees, a shell make-up compact, a scrap of lacey ribbon, an “A” monogrammed handkerchief, a protractor (a protractor????), a penny, an antique pin, a bejeweled barrette. You’ve never seen two happier girls.

Click to the jump for the full pizza recipe.


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Working Mom Redemption (aka, The Cookie Playdate)

May 5th, 2010 · 10 Comments · Baking and Sweets, Rituals

When I was an editor at Real Simple a few years ago, and then later at Cookie, I won the lottery. The working mom’s lottery. After years of fist-pounding and squeaky-wheeling, I was granted a four-day work week. Not four days in the office, then one working from home. That fifth day — Wednesday, then later Friday — was off. Mine. I could drop off and pick up the girls from school. I could go to the dry-cleaner. I could go to Trader Joe’s during off hours!

But best of all, I could host playdates.

I could’ve invited kids over on Saturdays or Sundays, of course, but since the family was together so rarely during the week, we generally tried our hardest to place a moratorium on structured weekend plans. As a result, I met their classmates at drop-off and I saw them at birthday parties, but I was rarely able to witness how my daughters interacted, one-on-one, with their pals. And it killed me. I would say on my personal working mom’s guilt-o-meter* it was one of the things that registered the highest. And so on those Fridays off, I tried to schedule playdates as often as I could. And as often as I could on those playdates, I tried my hardest to be Fun Mom. Which of course, meant homemade cookies. (Sorry, Mme. Secretary of State.)

The level of kid involvement evolved as they got older, but as early as two, the girls were mesmerized by the simple act of pushing a few M&Ms into spooned cookie dough rounds. And since the recipe for Tollhouse Cookies has been tattooed on my brain from so many years of making them with my mom, that’s usually the cookie dough of choice.

*I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…?


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1980 All Over Again

May 4th, 2010 · 9 Comments · Posts by Andy, Rituals

I don’t know what it is – the sudden blast of 90-degree heat or some kind of adult onset allergy or the first signs of a midlife crisis – but I logged some serious time this past weekend trying to recapture my youth. First, I went out and bought a tetherball kit – remember tetherball? – and instead of putting it in the basement and telling myself I’d set it up later, when I had more time, only to watch it gather dust on top of our treadmill for the next ten years, I actually dug a hole, got a bag of cement, and planted all nine feet of that sucker in our backyard. (I then spent much of Sunday afternoon dusting off my skills – skills that I had honed over a thousand summer nights by beating my dad, who I could usually coax outside to play with me after work, only he’d insist on doing it with a gin and tonic in hand.) I watched some Yosemite Sam on Saturday morning, too, which was just like the old days – only I watched it on youtube, with two little human beings who share my genes and my last name, which is most definitely not like the old days.  But the thing that really brought me back were the orange slices I brought to my daughters’ soccer game. When I was a kid, orange slices were the snack of choice after a hard fought game in swampy Virginia heat. No Clif bars, no vitamin water, no “fruit snacks.” When our games were over, we’d shake hands and rush over to the sidelines where one of the parents would put out his cigarette, smooth his mustache, reach down, open a red Igloo cooler, and pull out a huge Ziploc bag full of them. Cold, juicy, and sweet. We’d devour them right there on the field, tossing the skins aside, the juices running down our chins and onto our itchy polyester jerseys. Our hands would be sticky for the rest of the day. Can you tell I remember this fondly? Well, the same scene played out on Sunday, after the Arctic (our girls’ team) played valiantly for the first half but ultimately succumbed to the Blizzard, a crazily good and determined opponent who seemed to get stronger as we wilted in the heat (and picked dandelions). No matter, though. Just watching them eat after the game, mmmmming in pleasure, asking for more after the plate was cleaned, was enough for me. -Andy

More fresh, healthy snacks.

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