Bumper stickers

I have bumper stickers on my car. I have never considered myself a bumper sticker person; it was a side effect of being practical.

When my little Toyota Yaris was totaled, I was rather freaked out, so I decided we needed a BIG car. I couldn't do an SUV or truck, however, as I wanted something at least slightly fuel-efficient. I also figured that with super tall kids, it made sense to have something with room. So we decided on a minivan. Nice and practical.

(I have never considered myself a minivan person either. Am I in denial or in disguise?)

Except that every third person around here owns a gray minvan. Every time I went to pick up the kids from school, I'd watch them walking slowly down the line of minivans, peering in each window to see which one had me in it.

Thus, the bumper stickers. I got four and put them on the car just below the window, which makes for great line of sight. They are:

- Be the change you wish to see in the world
- Live simply so others can simply live
- There is not a blue America and a red America, there is the United States of America
- Well-behaved women seldom make history

I chose these particular bumper stickers because I liked them but also because they are fairly innocuous. They might identify me as left of center, but none of them are particulary super-political.

A few weeks ago, I was at school, and when I got back to my car, there was a note on my windshield.

It says, "COMRADE - You rock. love from the owner of the gray Odyssey you parked in front of."

Only in the midwest would such innocuous bumper stickers earn one the socialist appellation "Comrade." (Not that I mind. My views on food availability alone probably make me a socialist.)

Toilet paper

For many years now, I have had a paranoia about running out of toilet paper. We get down to about 5 rolls, and I panic and immediately run to the nearest store to buy a 24 pack of Quilted Northern. (They're double rolls, so that's actually 48.) Then I feel good.

It is ironic, then, that I somehow lost track of how much toilet paper was in the house when the blizzard came. I thought we had several rolls in the kids' bathroom. We didn't. So here we have been stuck in the house for 3 days ... and we have 1 roll of toilet paper. Just 1.

I decided to ration water and food. If we don't consume anything, there will be nothing to come out, so that 1 lone roll of toilet paper will last much longer. It seemed a perfectly resonable solution to me.

Aaron decided to go dig his car out.

Mexican Taco Casserole

I am so proud of myself when I concoct a new recipe all by myself that I have to share it! Here's a not-spicy Taco Casserole.

Ingredients:
1 medium onion, chopped
minced garlic (I use lots)
1 package frozen Boca burger crumbles
1 package taco seasoning
8 oz can tomato sauce
14.5 oz can diced tomato, drained
4 oz can diced green chiles
14.5 oz can black beans, drained and rinsed
1 cup cheese (I used almost vegan cheese)
1/2 cup cheese
Fritos (couple  handfuls)

Toppings:
Sour cream
Avocado
Whatever else sounds good. :-)

Directions:
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Saute onion for couple minutes over med heat. Add Boca crumbles and cook till mostly thawed. Add garlic and cook for 1-2 minutes longer.

Mix in taco seasoning. Add tomato sauce, diced tomatoes, and diced green chiles. Let cook while you're opening, draining, and rinsing black beans.

Add black beans, stir, and heat through (just a couple minutes -- skip if you're in a hurry). Add 1 cup cheese and mix till blended but not too melty. (You could probably serve the casserole at this point if you want to skip the oven time.)

Place layer of Fritos in bottom of large casserole dish. Pour taco mix over chips. Top with another handful of chips, then top with 1/2 cup cheese. Bake for 15-20 minutes.

Serve with all sorts of yummy toppings.

Variations: I considered making this with diced potato, sweet potato, or macaroni instead of the chips.Could also probably layer it between tortillas in the casserole. Could also substitute enchilada sauce for the tomato sauce.

Vegan Stuffing a la Yara

I managed to make a recipe all by myself! I know many of you do that every day, but for me, it is a huge accomplishment. Here it is:

1 loaf  (~ 1 pound) bread, mild flavor, crusty or toasted, torn into large pieces
Vegan margarine
1 large shallot
1-2 cups mushrooms
1-4 cloves garlic
1-1.5 Not-Chicken bouillon cubes
Dried sage (1 tbsp maybe? Not sure)

Throw a couple dollops vegan margarine in a skillet and saute the shallots till softish. Add mushrooms and saute till soft, about 6 minutes or so. Add garlic and saute for another 1-2 minutes. Add more margarine at any point if it starts to look too dry in there. (This is not a low-fat recipe. Why should it be??)

Meanwhile, pour 2 cups boiling water over the Not-Chicken cubes and stir till they are dissolved.

Put bread pieces in mixing bowl. Pour broth over bread and mix till saturated; add a bit of water if needed. Add mushroom mixture and stir. Sprinkle dried sage over the top and mix.

Spoon into loaf pan, cover with foil, and bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Remove foil and bake for another 15 minutes. It will be pretty moist when it's done, and it will stick together loaf-style, not crumbly.

It is not a pretty stuffing, but it does taste yummy. Of course, you can add all the extra stuff, too, like celery, apples, nuts, etc. I prefer my stuffing mooshy. :-)

Cooking, carmelizing, craving

Did you know that when you brown pork chops, they don't turn brown, they turn white? Why call it "browning" in that case? Why not "whiting?" Anyway, when my stepmom asked me to brown the pork chops one night when I was 12 years old, I browned 'em. Not whited 'em, browned 'em. The dogs had a good dinner that night, and Tracey never asked me to cook again.

So I didn't cook for a long time, but when we became vegetarian, I discovered that if I wanted to eat tasty food, I'd have to cook. So I bought some cookbooks and cooked. I never felt I could take credit for the results cause all I did was follow instructions (I'm really good at following instructions); someone else did all the creative work.

Lately, though, I've been branching out. I've tried a few things on my own, and I've gotten brave about using a recipe as a stimulus -- rather than following it, I use it as a framework for my own creation. I've discovered that most cooking is really quite forgiving. You can play around with it and usually come up with something decent. I'm still not regularly throwing my own stuff together, but I'm getting better at trusting myself.

Here's what I've created recently that came out quite well.

Carmelized tofu
I wanted yummy tofu one night, but I didn't want to work too hard, so I went looking for a recipe. I found this one for caramelized tofu, but as I don't like cilantro and didn't have pecans and didn't want to mix it with veggies, I did it this way:

I put some olive oil in a skillet on med-high. Once it was hot, I added tofu that was cut into thin strips -- about 1" wide by 3" long by 1/4 " thick and let it get golden. I then added garlic (probably quite a bit more than the recipe calls for) and let it cook for a minute or so and then added three tablespoons brown sugar and stirred it all up. Once the sugar looked stuck onto the tofu, I took it out and we ate it and it was yummilicious! The next time I make it, though, I will press the tofu first, so it is a bit more durable. A lot of it fell apart when I stirred it after adding the sugar.

Potatoes and carrots without the roast beef
I was craving the taste of potatoes and carrots with roast beef, only without the roast beef, so I decided to try and simulate it, and it worked pretty well -- as far as I can remember, that is. I haven't had beef in about 10 years. Here are directions if you'd like to try it too:

1. Quarter several buttercream potatoes and cut baby carrots (real ones, not the slimy manufactured things you can buy in bags) into about 2-3" lengths and put that all into an 8x8" glass dish.
2. Dissolve one Not-Beef cube in one cup of boiling water (this was double-strength) and pour that over the potatoes and carrots.
   
3. Bake at either 350 or 400 degrees (cannot remember) for about 1 to 1-1/2 hours until the potatoes and carrots are soft.
4. Remove potatoes and carrots with a slotted spoon, leaving the liquid in the dish. Add about 1 tbsp flour and mix until it thickens. Pour this "gravy" over the potatoes and carrots and stir gently.

Next time, I might add some quartered sweet onions and maybe some mushrooms.

Mushroom gravy
For this one, I used this recipe from Isa Chandra Moskowitz. I love her recipes; they always come out yummy, although she sometimes uses ingredients that I simply don't have the time to hunt down. Anyway, this was the best vegan gravy I've had. It only made enough for about 2-3 people, though.

My variations: I don't like the texture of shitake mushrooms, never eat them. So I used an 8 oz package of plain ol' regular button mushrooms, sliced thinly, and no cremini mushrooms, either. (I didn't want to drive to the store.) I also did not add the soy milk at the end as I was afraid it would thin it out too much.

I knew you were a star when

In Aisling's second grade class, each student gets to be "Star Student" for a week. As part of this, the student's parent(s) write(s) a letter to their kid and emails it to the teacher for her to read to the kid. This is what I wrote for Aisling.

I knew you were a star when
you were still in the womb
turning and pushing, not submitting
when I tried to move you,
and I knew you were strong.

I knew you were a star when
you were one year old and
you would pull all your books into a pile and read
even though you didn’t know the words
(and they were sometimes upside down),
and I knew you were curious.

I knew you were a star when
you were two years old and
you would concoct amazing
stories with your stuffed animals
creating your own little world,
and I knew you were imaginative.

I knew you were a star when
you were three years old and
you gave your grandmama
directions home from daycare,
and I knew you paid attention.

I knew you were a star when
you were four years old and
you couldn’t watch Elmo in Grouchland
because it made your heart hurt
to see Elmo yearn for his lost blankie,
and I knew you were compassionate.

I knew you were a star when
you were five years old and
you asked me what “suffered for his sanity”
meant in the song Starry Starry Night and
you understood my answer,
and I knew you were smart.

I knew you were a star when
you were six years old and
Daddy and Liam were trying everything
they could think of to pop a
soy-sauce baggie on the driveway and you said,
“or … you could cut it open and just
pour it on the driveway,”
and I knew you were funny.

I knew you were a star when
you were seven years old after
Grandma Mary died and
you wrote Farfar letters telling him
you missed her and
you asked about his day,
and I knew you were kind.

I knew you were a star when
I handed you my heart and promised
to love you forever and ever.

Mom

Respect and heartbreak

I went to a funeral a couple weeks ago for our rabbi's father. There was a cortege from the synagogue to the cemetery. I had never been part of one before, had only seen them occasionally. I did not know that people on the other side of the street pull over and stop when you go by.

Now, I already cry when people pull over when an ambulance or fire truck to go by. The idea that all these people are pulling together to help someone else is so beautiful, it makes me cry. I know it's the law, sure, but it doesn't matter. It's still people working together for someone they don't even know and never will know.

But in this cortege, seeing those cars pull over, I could not stop crying. (If I had been alone, I would have sobbed.) There was no reason for these people to stop. None at all. It was simply a gesture of respect, an acknowledgment that we all experience heartbreak. It was two minutes out of their day to show respect for people they did not know and never would know.

What could be more uplifting than simple, heartfelt gestures like this?