Who Knew?

We've been going on adventures on the weekends.  We've been mini golfing (which Sophie plays in the manner of hockey meets basketball meets rugby), out to neighborhood movie nights and to dragon boat races.  Today Mike surprised us with a trip to Queen Creek Olive Mill, Arizona's very own olive farm and olive oil manufacturer.  They grow their trees without pesticides, press their oil without heat, solvents or chemicals, and have a gift shop chock full of local products.  Oh, and a phenomenal selection of wines.  On our way to this little oasis we passed next week's adventure, an organic farm where you can pick your own produce.  I also saw a sign advertising sustainable pork, I'm definitely going to have to check that out at some point. 
Most of the news you hear about Arizona has to do with our certifiably insane politicians and policies.  Granted, there's enough antics to fill up the news feed just from a single session in the state Senate.  So I want to shout from the rooftops that there's a whole other side to this state.  One full of organic produce, nutty and beautiful olive oil, grass fed beef and all kinds of local, sustainable goodies.  Sure we still have our birthers, our Tea Partiers and our gun worshipers, but I am finding little pockets of love in an otherwise hostile environment.  It's a different type of environmentalism here.  A more quiet one than I'm used to.  Out here the sustainable farming community does it because it's the right thing to do, not because it's trendy or political.  They don't hype it because they don't have to, it's just the way they work. The olive farm may not be certified organic but they compost all their waste and feed it back into the earth.  Labels don't matter, quality and ethics do. 
I hold onto this simple mind set when I read the news and see all the posturing and hyperbole.  I also hold onto the idea that sustainable farming doesn't have to be a liberal idea, it can just be a sensible idea.

It's Audience Participation Time!

A few years ago my sister bought me a book called Milk, Eggs, Vodka for Christmas.  It's a compilation of grocery lists and it is a riot.  Whenever I need a good laugh I open it up and see all the weird and wonderful things people buy.  So along those lines I want to know what's in your cart and on your list.  The next time you go to the grocery store I want you to post what is in your basket.  There's no judgment, this is just a fun way to see what we all buy, and maybe find out who else shares our craving for pickled onions (or even gefilte fish).

What a week

The last seven days have been unbelievable, and unbelievably busy.  So now for the good, the bad and the ugly.


What a beautiful woman, inside and out

Last Sunday we drove up to Prescott to meet my great aunt Jeannette.  She's my father's aunt and lives in India.  She was here visiting her brother, my great uncle Norm.  His son Charlie, his wife Caroline and Jeannette's daughter Ginny rounded out the cast of characters.  All I can say is, wow. Every single person there was energetic, intelligent, interesting and vibrant.  But my great aunt stole the show.  Jeannette is 90 years old and in better shape than I am.  At 73 she decided to move to India, by herself, and has lived there ever since.  Now for the coolest part, she was a test pilot in WWII.  That's right, a female pilot, stationed nearby in Tucson.  I was absolutely fascinated listening to her tell me how she loved the advanced planes the most because she could really make them do acrobatics.  In fact, she was part of the ceremony that took place in DC a few years back, honoring all the female pilots.  Their records were sealed until the mid 70's, they received no benefits and were basically swept under the rug, despite having a better safety record than the men.  My great aunt was one of only 1500 women chosen for the program, out of 25,000 applicants.  Again, wow.
Now, the previous paragraph doesn't have a whole lot to do with food (actually, nothing) but I can tie it in to our Experiment.  While we were there we had pizza for lunch.  Orion wouldn't touch it and I found that one of my previous favorite foods no longer tasted right.  I like my pizza now.  Then, after an incredibly long day, we found ourselves on the road at 8pm, kids wailing, not having had dinner.  In desperation we took the next exit and ended up at a Chili's.  I've never been a fan, Mike likes to joke that I have a jihad against the chain, but when the kids are at the end of their ropes, you do what you have to.  Yuck.  Ick.  Blech.  Everything tasted the same.  A film of fat topped with salt.  It's bizarre how my taste buds have changed in such a short period of time.

Table at the Super Farm Market, kids in tow

Next up was a week of frantically spooling up for the Super Farm Market on Thursday nights.  As I mentioned, Ambrosia Candy Company is up and running.  Sophie and I spent the week creating gourmet candy in the shape of cows, chickens, teddy bears, moons and suns.  Last night was our first night as a vendor and it was so much fun!  I got to talk to a lot of great people, made some awesome contacts and sold some candy too.  Sophie is a born saleswoman.  She would go up to people and convince them that they needed a lollipop.  Plus, how can you say no to a face like hers?  She sold my first seven lollipops.  Oh, and Orion thinks the Pack and Play is in fact, hell.  He spent the night sulking in it.
It should be much easier from here on out but I'm realizing that we need to change our patterns a little bit.  We haven't figured out a good emergency system for dinners yet.  This past week was so busy that I didn't have time to follow my normal grocery shopping patterns.  Last night poor Mike inherited two hot, cranky, hungry little monsters and no food in the house to feed them.  I will take any and all suggestions on easy home-made meals.  I need to figure out a better way to freeze ready made dinners so that we have something for days when the world does not bend to my will (it does happen occasionally).
I think we're going to use this weekend to restructure, revamp, and revive.  Then, off to the next adventure!

Real Life

I've been struggling to find something to write about, it seems like there hasn't been any major discoveries or revelations lately.  And then I realized that that in itself is a revelation.  This has become our every day boring life.  We make bread on Tuesdays, we have pizza on Thursdays.  I hang laundry out on a daily basis to make sure that Orion has clean cloth diapers.  When I need something I instinctively head to Goodwill first.  I no longer drive by fast food joints or restaurants and have pangs of longing and there are aisles in the grocery store that I haven't walked down in weeks.  Mike cleans the kitchen every night so that we can start fresh in the morning.  There are still days when I get frustrated of course, but that happened before the Experiment too.
  I looked at how much we are spending on groceries and it hasn't gone down considerably.  The quality of food we are getting is exponentially higher.  Those same grocery bills are buying grass-fed beef, local organic produce and local dairy products.  I love the fact that I've held the chickens we get our eggs from and I know my dairy farmer by name. 
It's funny, when we started this I was convinced that we were going to save so much money, and that was the main goal.  Now I'm learning that I'm saving my family.  Mike's cholesterol is going down, my children are craving and asking for fruit and yogurt as a treat and I feel better than I have in a long time.  And it's not a big deal, it's our every day boring life.

Dreams, nay, Fantasies

I dream of pasta.  Shimmering, soft strands, enrobed in silky olive oil.  Delicate ravioli stuffed with exotic mushrooms.  Sturdy penne manfully holding up marinara sauce with sausage and fennel.  Dainty, flighty angel hair caressing tender pink shrimp with garlic kisses.
Then I wake up and see the lumpish, loutish frat boy of pasta that I made today.  It belches loudly without excusing itself, is thick and unwieldy, and if it could would drive a big truck with no exhaust.  I have no pasta roller and am simply not strong enough to beat this recalcitrant dough into submission.  Unfortunately, until I can find a used pasta roller I am stuck with these Homer-esque noodles.  They insult my lovingly crafted spaghetti sauce and bounce away from my fork and knife with glee.  Even Orion manfully chewed on them for awhile before giving up and moving on to the greener pastures of garlic bread.  So for now I have my dreams to fall back on but that carbonara will have to wait.
 This pasta may have won the battle, but I will win the war.

Ambrosia Candy Company

I'm a little bored.  Ok, I'm a lot bored.  I've always envied the women and men who seem so fulfilled at home with their kids.  Really truly envied, not envied in a snobby, I'm better than them way.  I think too much of my self worth is tied up in work, and contributing income to the family.  So I believe I have found a way to have both.  As I've mentioned before, we go to Superstition Farm Market every Thursday.  I've met some amazing people there and Sophie is best friends with the baby calf that she has dubbed Sugar.  Starting in two weeks I will be selling my hard candy there as a vendor.  I am ridiculously excited.  This is a chance for me to play with my creativity, meet new people and hopefully make some money.  And, I get to do it all with the kids in tow.  I don't know if it will work out or not but I know that it's a creative outlet for me.  The starting flavors are honeysuckle, Mexican cocoa, watermelon (for Farmer Jason), caramel apple martini and organic tangerine.  I bought molds in the shape of farm animals that are absolutely adorable and very appropriate.  If all goes well this could lead to future orders for weddings, baby showers etc.  If nothing else, I get to feel like a little bit of an adult for three hours a week. 
Oh, and on a side note, made another batch of strawberry ginger preserves.  This time I used real canning jars and they are sitting in my pantry glowing at me as we speak.  Mmmmm, jam.

Orion

My dearest son,
You are a year old today.  You have been such joy and inspiration in your short life.  You shovel up my pesto and my chili with a gusto I marvel at.  You are the reason that I do the things I do.  I want to provide a better world for you and Sophie.  I want to teach you how to find joy in simple things, and to understand the true cost of the world around you.  I put the love that I have for you in every bite of food I feed you, in every bit of clothing that goes on your body, in every kiss and and snuggle and caress.  Without you I wouldn't know my purpose, but because of your joy, your charisma and your ridiculously goofy dances, I do know.  My purpose is to raise you and your sister to be caring, loving and conscientious stewards of the world around you.  At the same time it is to teach you joy, absurdity, responsibility and awe.  My son, how I marvel at those words.  My baby boy.  May you grow strong and proud.  I love you.

Your mother

First Stumble

I failed today.  I forgot to eat breakfast and stopped at Arby's to grab a bite for lunch while out running errands.  And now I can't stop feeling guilty.  I cheated, I spent money, and worst of all, it didn't even taste good.  Actually, it was pretty terrible. I know it was only $5 but it still feels like such a waste.  I take comfort in knowing that we used to eat out at least twice a week and now eating fast food feels like kicking a puppy, but still wish I had been stronger. 
We did beat temptation tonight though.  After a rather raucous Easter Egg hunt at the museum (hell really is other peoples' children) we chose to come home and have pizza here rather than eat out.  It wasn't even a struggle, we wanted to come home and cook.  Weekends are still hardest for us, being out and about it's always been easiest to stop at a restaurant.
I hesitate to give myself any slack because I'm afraid I'll slide down the slippery slope, back to our old life.  I do know though that I'm happier and more content on my new path and hopefully that will be enough to sustain me through minor slips and falls.  And just so everyone knows, I am well  aware that on the calamity scale of 1-10 this falls somewhere between .05 and .07.  I'm still going to carry on in fine dramatic fashion for awhile, but I will move on.  Eventually. 

Less really is more

I discovered an interesting side effect to the Experiment last week.  As a household we are generating so much less waste.  Normally by the time trash day rolls around our trash can is full and our recycle bin is overflowing.  Not any more, we barely have enough recycling to roll out and the trash can is never full.  It's phenomenal how much packaging we use in every day life.  My pantry and fridge are less full now too.  No more stacks of cans of products I will never use, no more boxes of 2-month old crackers, no more mystery bags of grain.  I used to be terrible about eating leftovers, I tossed enormous amounts of food.  Now that those leftovers are the fruits of my labor I am greedy with them.  There is no way I'm going to let the pasta that Sophie and I made rot.  Those heirloom tomatoes that made my mouth water at the farmers market will be eaten.
I've also been making things in bulk.  For all my friends who dislike cooking, I highly recommend this.  Yesterday I made chili.  I had bought a huge chuck roast on sale and had the butcher grind it up.  In the same amount of time that it would have taken me to make one meal of chili I made 6, and I used up the tomatoes that were about to go bad, the extra onion in the fridge and the black beans from taco night.  We froze the leftover in bags, which take up a lot less room than tupperware.  This method really saves me on those days when my lovely, sweet, adorable children push every button I ever had and make want to scream and run away to Acapulco (I hear it's lovely this time of year).  It's just as easy to pull a bag of chili out of the freezer as it is to open a can of soup.
I know that these are not ground breaking ideas.  They've been in every women's magazine and how-to article for years.  I am simply proof that they work.  The trick is to use what you've got before buying anything else.  I find myself going to the grocery store more often but spending less.  I also know that I have more time than working moms to do these things.  But even a pot of chili, tossed on the stove and left to simmer on a Sunday, puts you way ahead of the game.  And oh, it makes the house smell like heaven.

Clean out the fridge night

leftover homemade tortilla, organic avocado, homemade bread with crispy ham, melted mozzarella and organic heirloom tomatoes.  Or to be trendy, fusion cuisine.

Tribulations and Triumphs

There is one area where I excel in persuasion.  I can convince myself that I need a dinner out for a myriad of reasons.  We're out and about, I forgot to defrost the chicken, the baby is grumpy, the wind is blowing from the east etc ad infinitum.  I adore eating in restaurants.  I get so much pleasure perusing the menu, savoring the descriptions of the items, enjoying a crisp glass of torrontes, all of it.  Oh, and the joy of not having to clean up afterward.  So when we were out earlier today I started the comfortable old dance in my head, the one that ends in a justification for letting go of the Experiment for a little while. 
And then I changed the song.  I love what we're doing.  I love that I'm constantly learning new skills, I love that I've lost 5 pounds without dieting, I love love love my homemade bread.  To give it up and admit defeat would cheapen all the things we've done.  I can't say for certainty that we will go the entire year without setting foot in a restaurant but I do know we're going to do our best.
Of course it gets frustrating at times, I have to stay on top of Orion's diaper situation so that we don't run out of clean ones.  HE loves going commando but I'm not sure the carpet can take much more.  After I ruined the gnocchi tonight I wanted nothing more than to give up and order pizza.  Instead I pulled out our leftovers and made an awesome fried rice. I have to do laundry every day because I hang it up on the line instead of using the dryer.  But these complaints are small, and dwindle away as I watch both the kids play naked in the back yard while I hang laundry.  They disappear when Mike tells me my fried rice is better than a restaurant.
What do you struggle with?  What's the song and dance in your head?  What's the best thing you had at a restaurant lately? (sorry, it's an addiction.)