Green Chili Egg Dish

This recipe has been adapted from Cooks.com.

12 ounces shredded cheddar cheese
8 ounces canned chopped green chilies
8 eggs
1 cup flour
2 cups whole milk

Grease dutch oven.  I use my beautiful azur Emile Henry dutch oven, which makes everything taste better.  I grease mine by using a generous spray of canola oil.

Mix cheese and chilies (with liquid) together and spread in bottom of pan.

Blend eggs, flour, and milk until smooth.  Pour over cheese and chilies.

Bake 45 minutes at 400 degress.  Eggs should be set but not dry.

*I have omitted the chilies and used fresh peppers sauteed first before adding.

*This is delicious warm from the oven or at room temperature or cold.  I have taken it to potlucks cut into cubes.  I have served it for brunch.

Starlight

STARLIGHT

by Ted Kooser

All night, this soft rain from the distant past.
No wonder I sometimes waken as a child.

Salted Pumpkin Muffins

I found a recipe online and it evolved.  Here is the original link:  http://smittenkitchen.com/2006/10/promise-keeper-pumpkin-eater/

And here is how I make it:

 
Pumpkin Muffins


1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup canned solid-pack pumpkin (from a 15 ounce can)
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1 large egg
1 mashed banana
1 teaspoon pumpkin-pie spice (I made my own blend using 1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg, 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves, 1/2 ground ginger (scant)
1 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon large crystal sea salt


Place oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 350°F.  Prepare a standard 12 muffin pan.  (I use canola spray oil.)

Stir together flour and baking powder in a small bowl.

Whisk together pumpkin, oil, eggs, pumpkin pie spice, 1 cup sugar, baking soda, and salt in a large bowl until smooth, then whisk in flour mixture until just combined.

Divide batter among muffin cups (each should be about three-fourths full).

Bake until puffed and golden brown and wooden pick or skewer inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean, 25 minutes.

Cool in pan on a rack five minutes, then transfer muffins from pan to rack and cool to warm or room temperature.



Notes:

You'll have leftover pumpkin pie spice.  I mix it with sugar and use it in my latte with honey.  You can also mix with sugar and sprinkle on muffin tops before baking.

You will also have enough pumpkin to make two batches, so you might plan on pumpkin muffins two days in a row!

Paprikas

I consider chicken paprikas, mashed potatoes, and cucumber salad to be the essential meal served by my mother-in-law.  This is certainly not the collective opinion of Hungarians, nor Transylvanians.  It is not even the consensus of the immediate family.  Perhaps it was the first meal she served me in her home.  For whatever reason these three dishes strike all the right notes for me when I think of my inherited family traditions.

Today's cooking lesson was hardly a delight.  The kids came home, hungry, from Leo's first trip to a movie.  It was Iza's third viewing of Bogyo es Baboca.  We were cooking the paprikas not for today's lunch, but mainly to squeeze in one more lesson before Katalin returns to Csikszereda on Monday.  We will eat it for tomorrow's lunch.  Long story short, I mostly observed this recipe without doing the work.

1 medium onion, diced
2 peppers (hopefully the thin, yellow ones) sliced into inch long narrow strips
2 carrots, grated

Place these into a pan and add oil.  Cover and let soften.

2 small tomatoes (or 1 medium), sliced

Add tomatoes, cover.

1 table spoon sweet paprika.
1 kilo chicken breast, cut into bite-sized chunks

Add these to pot and let cook in own juices.

Add water to pot to just cover chicken.  Let cook.

1 to 1 1/2 table spoons salt

Add salt.

Make a thickener:

Stir together one yolk, 1 table spoon flour (or more), and a bit of milk.  Add more milk until you have about a coffee-cup-filled amount.  Add a bit of the hot broth to the mixture and stir.  Keep adding a bit at a time.  Then pour the thickener through a strainer (to remove lumps) into the entire pot.  Bring the pot back to a boil and then you are finished.  (By the way, Katalin adds the egg white to the broth and lets it cook.  Why waste it?)

As I mentioned, I prefer this dish served with mashed potatoes.  It can also be served with tiny dumplings or store-bought pasta (like farfalle).  I also think that cucumber salad makes the perfect side dish.

Save room for cake.

Before the thickener is added:

Finished product:

Thanksgiving 2011

It is Thanksgiving in Budapest.

Or

How to Fry a Meatball.

1 kilogram ground pork
garlic, roughly half a head, crushed or finely minced
salt
pepper
2 - 3 thick slices of white bread
2 eggs
flour


Immerse the bread slices in a bowl of water.

Place meat, garlic, two eggs, about three x 3/4 full table spoons salt, and half the previous amount of black pepper in a bowl.

Squeeze the water out of the bread slices and add them to the bowl (remove any stubborn crusts that won't soften).

Use hands to thoroughly combine.

Test the mixture to determine if it needs more salt.  (I actually tasted it this time.  When we prepared the stuffed peppers, I basically put it in my mouth and swallowed in great fear and repulsion.  Really, is this a technique that home-cooks the world over practice with aplomb?)

Pour a little mound of flour on a plate.  Use about a table spoon of meat and plop it onto the flour.  Form the meat into a meatball, pounding it to make sure it won't fall apart in the oil.  Make as many as will fit into your frying pan.

Heat the oil on high and place the meatballs in the pan.  Lower the heat when it feels right.  It will take approximately 12 - 15 minutes total frying time.  You will need to turn the meatballs at least once, if not twice.  Turn the heat up and down as needed.  They should turn a golden brown color.

We changed the oil after the first batch.

This made about 28 meatballs.

These can be served warm, but most often are eaten room temperature or cold.

Tonight we will also make mashed potatoes and cucumber salad.  I have already brought home the dobos torta from the Ruszwurm cakehouse.

We have a playdate with a Swedish family living in our apartment building.  The mom and her three kids, ages 6, 3, and 1 1/2 will then join us as our Thanksgiving guests.  Even if they don't know it.

Becsiszelet, aka Wiener Schnitzel, aka Breaded Cutlets

Rinse a chicken breast and decide if it can be sliced lengthwise two or three times.  Most often you can cut it once for two slices.  Often there is a small bit that will end up being a third slice.

Then pound each slice into a thinner slice with a wooden mallet with a metal tip.  (There must be an official name for this tool.)

Pile the pounded poultry onto a plate. 

Repeat for each breast.  We are doing five today.

Then salt each breast slice, both sides.

Then pepper each breast slice, on one side only.

Dump some flour onto a plate.

Mix three eggs on a separate plate.

Turn over a breast several times in the flour, really push it in.

Then you will turn it over several times in the egg as well.

In the meantime, in other words before you douse the meat in the eggs but perhaps after you flour as  many pieces as will fit into your pan, heat oil in a frying pan.  The oil should be deep enough that your meat semi-floats on top.  

Let a bit of the egg mixture drip off and then place the meat into the pan.  The first batch cooked for about a total of 6 - 7 minutes.  The MIL turned them a few times, checking for golden brown color.  She says you should turn the meat two times.  Or perhaps three times.  You also have to adjust the heat as necessary.  So, for example, turn to high heat when you add the meat to the pan.  After two minutes--about the time you turn it for the first time, lower the heat to medium low. 

Her habit is to change the oil after using it twice. If the oil gets too bubbly, it is time to go.  You have to get rid of the oil and then be sure to dry the pan as water will cause popping and problems.

As one batch fries, prepare the next batch by turning each piece in the flour mixture.

Add more eggs to plate as needed.  Same with the flour plate.

We finished this batch at about 3:45.  Of course you can eat it fresh--the meat is warm and soft.  But the habit is that you make this meat ahead of time.  It can be served cold or at room temperature.  It is often prepared for holidays or parties because it can be made before the event.  I can almost guarantee that our freshly prepared becsiszelet will now rest on the counter until we are ready to eat around six-thirty this evening.

By they way, just for the record:  If I were narrating my own cooking, I would have included careful instructions about sanitizing the counter tops and utensils after handling the raw meat.  Not in this Budapest kitchen.  We roll with it.  Good old soap and water at the end.

Absurdity Rules

Peppers, Mother-in-law Style

Dice 1 medium onion.  (Don't leave any big pieces, which I did due to large amount of tears.)
Soften the onion in canola oil (enough to cover bottom of pan plus some).
Add a heaping-ish table spoon* of sweet paprika.
Add about 3/4 cup white rice (a small coffee cup to be precise).
Cook for a while.  Let cool for a while.

In a bowl mix 1 kilo ground pork, two eggs, 1 1/2 table spoon salt, 1 table spoon black pepper.  Add cooled onion mixture.  (We didn't add the entire mixture, leaving out a few heaping table spoons.  It is important that there is not too much rice as it makes the meat mixture hard.) Mix well with hands. Then mix some more when your mother-in-law scoffs at your effort.

Then, gird your loins, and take out a little spoon and taste the mixture. Add salt if needed.  She added more salt, about a half table spoon.

Stuff peppers.  (I am guessing we had twenty small peppers.) It is best to find the small peppers with thin skin, often a yellow color.  Cut off the tops and remove core and seeds.  As you stuff the peppers, push the meat inside.  Be sure to leave the outside of the pepper clean of meat mixture as it will muddy your sauce.

Place stuffed peppers in pot, preferably standing up with meat showing (but this will depend on the size of pot and the size/shape/number of peppers).

Cover with water.  Add more salt to water.  I've lost track---maybe a half table spoon again.

Bring to a boil and then simmer, covered. Cook at a good simmer for about an hour or until the rice is soft.  (Taste it to find out.)  The meat cooks first, so be sure to taste the rice.  (I think that is what she said.)

Then add tomato paste.  Gently stir in or pick up pan and swirl to mix.  She bought four little cans (140 grams each).  We put two in the big pot and one and a half in the little pot. (We don't have a large enough pot in this kitchen to hold all of the peppers.)

Then the tasting begins.  Add 2 table spoons sugar to large pot.  Taste.  Some more salt (half table spoon-ish).  Taste.  More sugar or salt as needed.

After it is finished, around 2:30, leave it on the cool stove until you eat dinner around 6:30.

This is served in deep plates, always with sour cream offered on the table.  You place one stuffed pepper on a plate and surround it with a ladle of the sauce.  Usually there are thick slices of fresh white bread as well.

This dish is always better the second day.  You can freeze it as well.

*table spoon = a table spoon not a tablespoon--more like a table soup spoon to be precise

Fall Numbers

Izabella:

3 years, 7 months
wt  37
ht 40.25

Lenard:

2 years, 2 months
wt 28.5
ht 35.25

Today

Today I have a babysitter to watch the kids between nine and twelve.
I am at our local favorite cafe, empty macchiato on the table.
The sun is hot through the front window.
There are students with actual textbooks and extra-fine mechanical pencils.
The muffin was satisfactory, banana nut.
I am reading the third book of The Hunger Games series.
Before I go home I will stop at Whole Foods.
Leo started to chorus "why?" the day of Hurricane Irene.
We are headed to Kansas next week.  It's state fair time.
Back to Indiana in October.
Izabella will need orthodontics.
We didn't sell the house.
I still think that staying home and producing two human beings is as astounding as staying home and producing a manuscript. For the record.
Still a nonpracticing vegetarian. 
When my kids play restaurant they serve cappuccino with  a little bit of sugar.

Leo at Two

The good news is that he made it to two.  And me too.

Just after turning two while in Transylvania, the family picked up the Rotavirus.  It hit Leo the day before we flew from Budapest to Boston.

The night before his well-visit at two-years-old with his pediatrician we were in the Emergency Room for dehydration concerns.  They treated him with anti-nausea medicine and he seemed to respond and perk up.

The next morning at his check-up he measured thus:

Ht.  34.5 inches, 52%

Wt.  24.5 pounds, 11%

HC.  48 centimeters, 32%

Later that morning we got the call from the hospital that he tested positive for Rotavirus.

That evening I carried my waif to the car and returned to the ER for an IV line to rehydrate him.

That makes four trips to the ER this summer.  Iza, 1.  Leo, 3.

Our local ER at Newton-Wellesley Hospital, where Leo and Iza were born, is wonderful.  Can't say as much for Budapest!

Rotavirus is terrible.  Yes, there is a vaccine.  No, he wasn't vaccinated.  His sister was.  (That requires a longer post to explain.)  In short, if there is a third child, that child will be vaccinated.  Rotavirus compounded by international travel and jet lag creates a surreal 3 - 8 days.  We are on day 4.

Observed in the Park

There is a large wooden gate designed for a kid to open and close and open and close to pacify a manic-obsessive heart's content.  A toddler of the boy variety is doing just that.  His father warns him to stop because he will pinch his fingers. The warnings turn to shouts.  The father stomps over, yanks the offending fingers away from the door, and again reprimands the crying boy.  He pulls the kid away from the door and leaves him standing there in tears.  And then.  The father reaches over and pinches the already sobbing little boy on the chest.  Hard.  See, if the door won't pinch you. I will. And the father walks back to his bench.

By the way, as far as I can determine, the door is designed in such a way that it is nearly impossible to pinch little fingers.  

Top Ten

Turkish Delight

wide-brimmed straw hats in summer

jasmine pearl tea

eyewear

outdoor fruit and vegetable markets

tepertős pogácsa

freshly ground peanut butter

baking bread

being in my body

pockets

Széchenyi Fürdő

my mother's dumplings

rocking chairs

giving books I love to people I think might love them too

The Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton-Porter

diners

grandma Kelley's rice casserole

home made play dough

Le Mans Hall

midwives

baking muffins

Spencer Tunick

wool socks, knee-knigh, with stripes

Coin-Operated Boy by the Dresden Dolls

bread and butter

pumpkin

church bells

African chicken and peanut soup from the New England Soup Factory

martini with blue cheese stuffed olives

1059 Riverside

singing the ABC's as a lullaby

gesztenyepüré

yogurt

sneaking away from a sleeping baby

bodza

Book Club

Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins

Rome

sunflowers

avocados

Indigo Girls

dandelions

sleep

Warren Dunes State Park

french fries

blue

the fact that baking bread is so simple

clean pressed sheets

walking by a lilac bush in bloom

holding hands

playgrounds

NPR

Prairie Home Companion

PBS

hard wood floors

freshly squeezed ABC juice--apple, beet, carrot

handmade afghans

Jeune Homme Nu Assis au Bord de la Mer, by Jean- Hippolyte Flandrin

And Then

And then Leo stepped off the curb.

I reached for him, grabbed his arm. I pulled him back and then

I jumped in front of the car to push it away from him.

And then I thought:  it's okay that I have my hands pressed into the grill. when I hit the pavement bones and muscles might give way.  A second birth.  And then

I screamed, My Baby, My Baby, My Baby.

His nose was bleeding, he cried.

I shouted, Leo too? The car, Leo too?  (In broken Hungarian)

I knew the car hit me (or I hit the car). I wanted to know if the car hit Leo.

No one could say. Or would say.

I sat on the curb. Leo sat upright in my lap, heart to heart. His blood soaked my shirt.

I reached for Iza.  She came and stood next to my, stroking my back.  She took care of me. (That's not her job.) She never cried.

Later a witness said the car's front tire hit Leo in the head.

And then the ambulance came. The police.

There was no fault. Except mine, of course. I am the mother.

It is my job to keep them alive, 
at minimum.

The driver:  a young man in a suit. Two other young men in the car, wearing suits. I didn't say a word to them. I wish I would've told them they weren't to blame.
I worry about them too.

People rushed to the scene:  A woman with a child on her hip, a nurse from high school next door, several men. There was shouting and silence. Someone offered me water. 
I refused, but then directed them to pour it over Leo's finger.  It poured over his raw flesh. Iza quickly pointed out that the water was spilling. This part of the story she always repeats, 
when the water spilled.

I took Leo's finger, his right index finger, bloodied, and put it in my mouth.  
I sucked it clean. I was calm.

In the ambulance they bandaged my scrapes, but never examined me. They felt Leo's head, but never took off his shoes or clothes to look for wounds.  Later I will see his elbow is scraped raw.

And then, sitting in the ambulance, the police asked my name.  Janet Kelley, or Kelley Janet?  (In Hungarian they say the family name first.)  Birthdate?  11/18 or 18/11?  (In Hungary they offer the day first, then the month.)  In my head I shout:  absurdity!  who the fuck cares!  Drive us to an x-ray machine!

Laszlo had left that morning for Zurich.  I had no cash, no phone (it was in the apartment), and no passport.  I didn't know our street address.  I knew the street, but not the house number.

And then the ambulance was driving quietly, sedately through tree-lined Budapest avenues toward a hospital.  Leo fell asleep in my arms.  I checked to see he was breathing.  

The x-ray technician was hostile, to say the least.  She wanted me to hold Leo a certain way and I didn't understand.  And then when I did understand, I tried to say I couldn't hold his face that way because my hand was in pain. Her response, if you don't do it we can't take the x-ray.  

So what is a little more pain?

The x-ray showed no damage to the bone. And they released us. We took a taxi home, no car seats.

The accident happened at noon. We were home by two.

And then, lunch as usual.

And then

I pulled Leo back. I felt him slip from my grasp. 
I jumped in front of the car. You know, to stop it.

I walked away. Leo walked away.

Izabella watched the entire event from the curb. This terrifies me.

And then, again, Iza asks, "Do you wanna tell about it?  Accident?  When the car came?"

I am convinced the car didn’t hit Leo.  I am sure his head injury was caused when I pulled him back and he fell down on the street.

I almost wish I had a broken bone.

And then I was waiting in front of the nursery's large wooden door on a narrow street in Budapest, close to the castle. It was noon. Clear, sunny fall day. The children raced down the sidewalk as they returned from the park. I was there to pick up Iza and Leo. It was their third morning in the nursery. I brought them at ten and then 
was supposed to return at noon.  Two hours. And then

a woman in a car was waving hello (or asking if she could park?) and

then we were all saying hellos--six kids, two teachers, and myself.  
And I hugged and kissed my kids

and then there was small talk or not and hungry kids ready to go inside to lunch and naps and then

Leo stepped off the curb.

"Do you wanna talk about it? Accident?"

Yes, I do. As many times as you do, Iza. And then

again.

Thursday

Iza, we need to wash your hair.

Can we do it on Tuesday?

Iza, let's get dressed so we can go to the park.

In two minutes, mama.

Iza, can you find your shoes?

No rush, mama.  Take your time.

Spring Blossoms

The kids are kids now, not babies.

How is this threshold defined?  They still nurse, both of them.  So that is not entirely part of the definition.  Our nursing days are numbered, however.

An important milestone is definitely their enrollment in ovoda, in our case this means a family daycare in Budapest.  We have opted to send them both three mornings a week.  I stayed one morning with them and they have spent one morning without me.

I don't think that preschool is necessary and my motivation for sending them is twofold:  1) mama needs time sans kids and 2) we want them to be immersed in a Hungarian language experience.  

New Numbers

Izabella

Ht In
38.3

Wt Lb
30.5

BP
99/68

Lenard

Ht In
33.5

Wt Lb
24

Snow Day Notes

Leo, 18-months:

has discovered a new word:  MINE!

will climb onto the dining room table in the time it takes to go to the kitchen and retrieve the butter.

is beautiful.

loves to read Brown Bear or anything Iza happens to be reading.

has yet to have his first hair cut.  (Well, I did take pity on him and trim his bangs while we were in Kansas for Christmas.)

desperately needs a hair cut.

likes broccoli.

is not a fan of playing in the snow.

has decided that pigs are called "Lalalas" because of the book "Moo Baa Lalala."  has adopted a tiny pink pig as his bedtime "Lalala."  sadly this is Iza's little pig.  this causes much sadness and confusion.  for both of them.

has his own word for nursing:  mama.

is currently being night-weaned.  is not happy about that, but is learning.

has never slept through the night.  One time (last week) he slept from 8 pm to 5:30 am.  Usually he sleeps for three hours before he wakes the first time.  He is up at least three or four times a night.

has eyes that still amaze me.

rarely stops moving.

currently is exploring what happens when he shoves Izabella.  he is over the hair-pulling thing, mostly.

starts biting when he is tired.  or trying to bite me.  he is not being mean.  it is a playful nip, but still.



Izabella, three-years-old next month:

loves a good party.

hates to have her hair washed.

went to see her first theater performance:  The Berenstain Bears at the Jewish Community Center.  She was rapt for the entire show lasting almost an hour.  (Leo slept through it, thankfully).

still loves blue cheese, brie cheese, and goat cheese.

likes to pretend that she is going on a trip to New York City.  she packs her monkey backpack with snacks, books, and a bottle of water.

loves to watch "Kids" = Sesame Street on TV.

is extremely tolerant of her little brother. most of the time.

enjoys "Taking Care" of her baby dolls and stuffed animals.

loves to play in the snow. 

understands Hungarian. Speaks Hunglish.

often requests to wear her party dress so that she can twirl.

is observant.

is ready for a big-girl bed.

likes to stick out her "beautiful tummy" and rub it.

makes my heart ache when I put her to sleep and she requests one more ABC or Twinkle Twinkle.

has gorgeous long hair.

currently loves to paint.  our dining room table has been transformed into an art center.

attended her first dance class today.  moms are asked to stay in the waiting area.  the class was an hour-and-half long.  she says that she wants to go back next time.