Tag Archives: cooking

The Freezer Club


Have you ever heard of  The Freezer Club?  Well, if your first thought runs to some strange club that meets in a deep freeze, or group of people who text while sitting in the refridgerator, you better hurry on over to ParentSociety.com.

My most recent article Why You Should Join the Freezer Club explains in detail about a little discovery I made last week while…

... away from home at a baseball field in over 100 degree heat, getting bitten by bugs, coated in dust and desiring to rip all my clothes off in order to stop them from sticking to me (although I worried such a display might throw off my kids batting).

Trust me – it is a good discovery and quite possibly the most innovative idea I have come across in a long time with regards to feeding a family in a way that is all at once healthy, economical and fun! Go here!

Why You Should Join the Freezer Club

My other forays into cooking:  Where’s the Beef?

New Years Non-Resolutions


Yeah, I know the New Years Resolution Bus has passed.  However, due to the fact that my Christmas Cards invariably hit the ground running about mid-January, I decided to claim end of the year procrastination as a “tradition” and forge ahead.  Besides I was occupied between Christmas and New Years combating a bunch of kids for a patch of mountain on which to ride my board (hey, I only took out a few…that I know of) -man-made snow, quite the hot commodity.

Anyway, I will make this easy.  I do NOT make New Years Resolutions.  Not since, after occupying Los Angeles for 10 years, I Resolved to give up using the F bomb – which has led me to a lifelong, frustrating and futile search for its replacement equal.

Therefore, here are my 6 New Years NON-Resolutions:

I will NOT drink more water.  Let’s face it, at a certain age the Pee Pee dance is no longer cute and becomes potentially hazardous. (If you are not getting a mental picture here, just give it a few years).

I WILL add to my embarrassingly large, spilling out of the closet, “yes, honey, I swear I got that for a good price” denim collection. However, as an attached rider, I renew my vow to shun all things bearing the name “Jegging” and I will pass on the new “Ass-Cam” now being installed in select designer denim fitting rooms.

I WILL eat sugar in my coffee, in my soda, in my desserts, in my snacks; Even if it means the possible acquisition of a JLo Butt (wait, maybe I should re-think that Ass-Cam…?).  “I’ll have boobs to go with that butt please.”

I will NOT give up the right to throw things when the situation demands.  For example, kids’ shoes I have tripped over a cajillion times, malfunctioning machines (full confession coming soon), cat that lies right in the middle of the room (jk – of course I would not throw my cat…she’s too fat.)

I WILL cook way more pasta then anyone wants to eat.  Furthermore, I WILL, in a fit of thinking I am the next Pioneer Woman, mangle some poor unsuspecting piece of beef, force my family to eat it, and expect them to give me praise.
Lastly, I WILL, in my totally un-cool Soccer Mom van, peel out when local teens make fun, bump into curbs, back into low concrete walls and drive over the grass on the side of our new driveway that hubby is desperately trying to grow.  Because, well, that’s how I roll.

Happy 2012.  May all of your New Years Non-Resolutions be a success!

Where’s The Beef?


Man cannot live on broccoli alone…or so my husband and kids tell me.  The truth is, as a singleton I attempted to prove the opposite.  I starved out more than a few guests who, looking for a snack, found only broccoli and water in my refrigerator.  But even I had to admit after a time, a re-acquaintance with chicken and fish was necessary. And with the advent of husband and boys into my life, even the occasional meeting with pork loin had weaseled its way into my culinary repertoire.

But, when my growing boys began to ask, “Where’s the Beef?”, I knew I was in trouble.  You see, I have never been on good terms with Beef.  We don’t like each other, and my attempts as a newlywed to prepare Beef resulted in varying forms of barely edible shoe leather – proving, Beef and I just did not play nicely together.

However, one night, while perusing a cookbook, I came upon a recipe for Beef Brisket.  In light of recent requests (demands, threats to hide my ipod) and excitement over mentioned recipe, I decided to take on Beef once again – beat him at his own game.

So off to the store, list of ingredients in hand, I went.  The first sign I was in over my head was at the meat counter.  I ordered the recipe required poundage whereupon the butcher began piling hunk after huge hunk of meat onto the scale.  It probably would have been back to the fish counter for me, but butcher-guy, seeing my deer in the headlights look, quickly suggested I cut the recipe down and try one hunk of Beef.  And once I solved the “consommé” vs “beef broth” mystery and got over my fear that liquid smoke was not just some guys dying breath in a bottle, I was ready to begin preparation.

However, from the outset, Beef and I suffered misunderstandings: First being that, Beef had to marinate for 24 hours (oops, “spaghetti for dinner tonight?”). And second, the following night after 24 hour marinating, discovering that Beef did not cook for 40 minutes but for 40 minutes PER POUND (umm, “dinner at 9:00 tonight?”). Nonetheless, hunk of Beef and I finally came together and completed the meal.

So finally, the moment of reckoning had arrived. I gingerly took Beef out of the oven.  Beef looked good.  Beef smelled really good.  I cut Beef into slices and served Beef to my, by now starving and salivating, victims family.  Whereupon we discovered…I had made… the most wonderful…possibly first time ever…Beef Brisket Jerky. It wasn’t flaky, or tender, or delectable.

Nonetheless, either out of fear this would be my last foray into Beef’s world or out of sheer pity; my patrons verbally declared it a rousing success:

“It tastes good”,

“At least its beef”,

“It’s not that chewy”,

“I like jerky”,

“It tastes like some I had in a restaurant once” (note to self, never go to that restaurant again).

Their heartfelt accolades were so sincere and insistent I almost began to believe them; enough, at least, to consider casting my lot with Beef once again.  I guess you could say we may never be BFF’s, but at least now, Beef and I seemed to be on speaking terms.

But, just so Beef would not get the last word…

I made Carrot Cashew Soup for dinner the next night.