Thursday, April 30, 2009
But I am happy. Things are good. I have really cute and smart kids who keep me on my toes, and a very smart and patient husband, and amazingly wonderful friends, and springtime in California.
While it makes for a pretty nice life, it makes for a pretty boring blog.
I should remember to resort to food writing when that happens.
Here's one thing that made me happy this week shortly after I found amazing deals on good cheese at Grocery Outlet. We won't talk about how much Brie I have been eating.
Barbecue chicken pizza
Your favorite 14" pizza crust (I use the Betty Crocker big red book recipe, more or less - 1 c warm water, 1 tbsp. yeast, 2.5 c. flour, pinch each sugar and salt, splash of olive oil)
Your favorite bottled barbecue sauce
1/2 - 1 c. chopped cooked chicken (grilled is best)
About 1 c. grated Gouda cheese (can substitute mozzarella or jack, but Gouda is best)
1 green onion (scallion) white and green parts, sliced thin
2-3 tbsp. chopped fresh cilantro
Spread sauce on crust as thick as you like. Top with chicken, cheese and onions. Bake at 375 degrees 20-30 minutes. Slice and sprinkle with cilantro before serving, or let diners sprinkle their own (not everyone likes the herb my mom calls The Weed).
I first had this type of pizza at Wasatch Pizza in Salt Lake City. They use red onion instead of green onion and bake the cilantro on the pizza. I think a similar pie is also on the menu at California Pizza Kitchen. But I think it's best homemade with a whole wheat crust.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The kids got to play in the hose today. It was 91 degrees according to Sally Lou, and I am a lax Mormon mommy who doesn't feel that's a Sabbath breaker, so sue me. They put it up on the roof to create a waterfall. My kids are smart and danger-happy. Me, I figure if the roof can survive a Central Valley winter it can certainly take a garden hose for a couple of hours. We have definitely had rainstorms that have dumped more water on it than that.
My cooking has been less inspired lately because we are relying on food sources that steer us more toward the most basic of basics. But maybe I can get my mojo on with the grill and the ice cream maker, officially being fired up this week.
Bye-bye, roasty toasty. Hello, grill marks and frozen treats.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
My little Z has asthma inherited from her birthmom. (I have it, too, and so does A, ever since we came to the San Joaquin Valley where we mainly breathe diesel exhaust and particulate pesticides.)
At this time of year, she also has allergies. Again, the rest of us can certainly sympathize.
And then she got a cold. It seems to have pushed her poor little voice over the edge. Mean mommy thinks it is really, really cute.