I know. I know. It’s not Monday. But the week was a busy one and it pretty much feels like Monday.
My mom was a sucker for a casserole. It stretched a buck and hid a variety of veggies even the pickiest of eaters could enjoy. Better yet, it was easy to add rice or pasta so that even if one of the neighbor kids stayed for dinner, there would be plenty to go around.
In the last 10 years or so, my mom wasn’t much of a drinker. In her younger days, she stayed sane by enjoying a bottle of wine with the neighbor. But as she aged, she stopped drinking pretty much all together except for an occasional Kaluha and milk. She did, however, love her McDonald’s Diet Coke or Sweet Tea, especially when smuggled into the movies in giant ziplock bags shoved into my Mary Poppin’s purse.
The first time I loved a boy–I mean really, REALLY loved a boy so much that just a few days apart made my heart hurt, I was about 24 years old. Along came this guy with an adorable smile and the eyes of an old soul. He was wise beyond his years with fantastic taste in music right from the get-go. I was smitten. I told him as often as I could that I loved him more than all the stars in the sky. You would think that would push a guy away…but not this fella. He would say it back with conviction always accompanied with a big hug.
Remember those meals your mom used to make when you were a kid that you absolutely hated?
Liver and onions anyone? Yuck.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day. I thought that the day would see me curled up in a ball unable to speak or see through my tears. I was wrong. I was overjoyed at seeing all people at the 15th Annual Beverly Breast Cancer Walk in support of those surviving, battling, or taken by breast cancer. We had never walked as a family before. The day my mom had her second surgery, my brother mentioned that maybe we should walk this year. Then, just two weeks ago, my dad brought it up again. We got working to put together a team and logo. Yesterday, in a sea of pink, 19 crisp white t-shirts with a beautiful butterfly and the words FIGHT STRONG stood out from the rest. Those were the people walking in honor, memory, and celebration of my mom, Debra McKenna…Grandma to some, GramCrackers to a special little one. My mom’s familiar signature saying Love, Mom took my breath away when I first saw it. I just felt her with me.
Today was a bad day. My Aunt N told me not that long ago that the first 20 minutes of her day dictates how the rest of it will go. She likes to start her day off with the quietness of her coffee. I should have known today was going to be a sh!t show the moment I walked out the bedroom door.
SQUISH
I literally stepped in doggy poop. Damn that Zoey. She is always pooping by my shoes. I know she does it on purpose because she’s secretly hates me. After cleaning it and myself up, I went to work. My McDonald’s large-unsweetened-iced-tea-in-a-styrofoam-cup treat ended up being sweetened. There was a wasted $1.08. I subbed in another classroom–all good kids, great lesson and everything. I just wasn’t paying very close attention apparently and couldn’t find the materials left right in front of my face. Then I heard it…the ear piercing scream of one of my students. Nothing was wrong really…but for her nothing was quite right. The day just went downhill from there. As soon as one student was calmed, another went down for the count. I snapped at my fantastic classroom aide–I did apologize but it doesn’t change the fact that I did it. She stepped up and took the reigns while I had a small breakdown–God bless her. At one point after a loud tussle, I literally stayed on the floor of my classroom and let a few tears fall for just a moment.
After school I stopped by J’s house. I tutored J for about 2 years–up until my mom got sick and I took some time off. I heard he had been doing such a great job at reading that I arranged with his family to spend a little time with him. WOW! What a great kid. To think how far he has come in just a couple years makes me so proud of him and his family.
I had told my Thursday buddy that I wasn’t up to stopping by today. I was just too beat. Then she left me a message encouraging me to just call her to talk. I stopped by anyway and was so happy that I did. She listened with out judging, gave advice without being preachy, and reassured me that things will get better. Then she said something that just stuck. FIND THE JOY. EVERYDAY. That’s it. It’s the only thing you can do. If everything else is out of your control all you can do is find the joy…at least a little slice of it. I drove home thinking what f-ing joy was there to find today? Then I remembered dear, sweet J reading to me. He read me the riveting Hop on Pop by Dr. Seuss. For those 10 minutes, I forgot about my bad day. I didn’t think of screaming kids or doggy doo-doo. I reveled in the pure joy of a child reading a book to me for the very first time…a REALLY REAL book. He was so proud. I was so proud. Even though my visit only last 15 minutes, it really changed my outlook on the entire day. I wouldn’t have realized it without my buddy reminding me to FIND THE JOY. Thank you C. And thank you J. And I’m sorry JBE. I promise to try better tomorrow to check my crankiness at the door. Tomorrow will be a better day and I will actively LOOK for the JOY all throughout.
I had big plans to make my mom’s delicious Vegetable Beef Soup. It’s really more of a stoup–that is the way Rachael Ray would describe it anyway. It’s thicker than a soup but thinner than a stew. It’s everything you would expect from a hearty one pot meal. It has large pieces of beef, tomatoes, mixed vegetables, barley…and lots of love. I always thought that this recipe was fairly complicated. About a month before my mom’s second surgery, she taught me this soup, which had quickly become my husband’s favorite meal and he requested that I learned it immediately. He loved the tender beef chunks and jokingly even called it beef chunk soup. Just the glimpse of the beef stew meat package got him excited for the night he would come home to this lovely one pot wonder bubbling away on the stovetop. I had big plans, but then life got in the way.
I was asked by some of my Lisle Floodies to attend a Village Board Meeting. Lots of discussion about storm water ordinance changes was supposed to be on the agenda. It ended up being removed but t was nice to get together with the girls and get caught up anyway. I realized I had been neglecting my previous interest in local government–I need to try to get to more meetings. Needless to say, dinner for my husband consisted of some leftovers. I’ll be making this soup tomorrow. I’m sure memories of dinner at the kitchen table in the Ridgeway house will fill my head and heart at first bite. But until then…NO SOUP FOR YOU!
Mom’s Vegetable Beef Barley Soup
1½-2 pounds beef stew meat (trimmed and cut into bite size pieces)
2-32 ounce containers of beef broth
2-15 ounce cans mixed vegetables (drained)
1-14.5 ounce can diced tomatoes (NOT drained)
5 ounces of Quaker Medium Pearled Barley
2 tablespoons vegetable or canola oil
Is there a meal that just transports you to another time? Another place? A meal that has strong memories you cannot help but think of them upon first taste? For me, one of those meals would be my mom’s Swedish Meatballs. It is such a ridiculously easy recipe I have a difficult time even calling it a recipe. There really isn’t any cooking involved–just some assembling. I can see the appeal to a busy mom of 6 kids!! Every time I make this meal, I cannot help but remember the night before my sister’s wedding. I have no really memories of this dinner or after that night. I know it was always a dish I enjoyed but I don’t exactly know how it became my sister’s favorite meal.
April 10, 2003, was the night before my little sister’s wedding. She had been dating her guy since they were kids…seriously. They met early on in high school and started dating somewhere around age 14. They have been together for longer than they have ever been apart. They now have 3 of the most adorable children, rivaled only by my other nephews. Anywho…that night, Colleen wanted to have a special meal. She asked my mom to make the dinner she just LOVED. Swedish Meatballs…and for some reason she wanted them accompanied by party potatoes. Strange bedfellows no doubt. I remember the three of us eating in that third floor condo together–probably watching Friends or Will & Grace followed by Golden Girls as we often did. Forever, Swedish Meatballs and the night before my sister wed will be connected…paired memories never to be separated.
That’s exactly why I told this story just yesterday. A friend of mine wanted to learn to make something new. I made a few suggestions and she settled on my mom’s Swedish Meatballs. As we assembled the unbelievably easy dish, I told her about that night just over 11 years ago. A smile crept onto my face as I remembered that happy day. I recalled that yummy meal, my sister’s anticipation, and singing the Golden Girls song. I couldn’t help but call my sister on the way home. Thank you for being my friend.
It was our fourth date, the first meal I ever made for my new beau. I slaved all day Thursday making my mom’s spaghetti and meatballs. Everyone loved her sauce and I was certain that by making it, he was going to fall in love with me! The night before, as I was finishing up cooling the big pot, I casually asked him while chatting on the phone what he had for dinner. Imagine my heart sinking when he told me spaghetti. I was devastated. It was one of the few dishes in my repertoire that I was confident I could get right. I had to go to plan B–lemon chicken. It turned out delicious but didn’t have the impact I’m sure the spaghetti would have had.
Flash forward several months when I made spaghetti and meatballs again. It was a HIT. My guy declared it better than his grandma’s–SORRY GRAM! He asked me if the meatballs were homemade because they were really, rEALLY good. I looked him dead in the eye and said, “I rolled ’em myself!” See…this was my mom’s secret recipe. I’m not sure if it was passed down over generations, but I can tell you my sisters and I all make the meatballs the exact same way. And now, I’ll share that secret with you: 2 pounds of S&T meatball mix…then roll ’em yourself and toss into the sauce. The cat’s out of the bag. We don’t actually MIX the meatballs–we just roll them. The premixed, spiced and seasoned meat makes the perfect addition to your red sauce. This stuff is seriously amazing. My sister and I have even talked about forming into burgers and serving it on garlic toast. They are really THAT good.
It wasn’t until about 4 or 5 months ago that I finally came clean to my now hubby. I’m sure he always wondered why I could ONLY buy my meat for meatballs at S&T. I could never make the recipe without planning WAY ahead to go to the old neighborhood to grab the beloved meatball mix. I told him it was just something about the way they ground the beef/pork mixture. I didn’t exactly lie…but I did omit the part where they did all the hard work!
After mom passed away, spaghetti and meatballs would be the first meal we ate together as a family. My sister prepared the sauce and rolled the meatballs herself. It was just as we had all remembered. Mom never wrote the recipe down. And as I’ve talked to my sisters, she may have made it a tiny bit differently each time…so I’m sure our recipes differ just a little. But Mom and I made it together many times over the almost year my husband and I lived there. This is the recipe I remember. The taste is perfection. It’s a sweeter sauce, thinner than some others you may have had. It takes only about 10-15 minutes to toss together. The longer it simmers the more delicious it gets. I’ve been known to make it the day before then add the raw meatballs and sauce to the crockpot the morning of. It’s an extremely cost effective meal to serve to a large family–which is why I’m sure we had it so often.
It will forever be the first family recipe I remember learning. It’s the taste of my childhood. Just the smell of onions and garlic bring me back to the house on Ridgeway–walking in after school to discover our favorite meal was being served: homemade spaghetti and meatballs–where the McKenna women roll ’em themselves.
Mom’s Spaghetti Sauce
2 medium or 3 small onions finely chopped
3-4 cloves garlic pressed or chopped
2-3 tablespoons olive oil
1-15 ounce can tomato puree
1-29 ounce can tomato paste
¾ paste can of water
1-29 ounce puree can of water
1 tablespoon salt
¼ cup sugar
2 tablespoons dried basil
2-3 dry bay leaf
2 pounds S&T meatball mix
Heat oil on medium-high heat.
Add onion and garlic.
Sauté until onion is translucent but not burned (if garlic has burned you must start over).
Add the tomato paste and mix it into the onions and garlic until fragrant (about a minute or so).
Add ¾ of the paste can filled with water and stir until well combined.
Add tomato puree and a tomato puree can of full of water.
Add sugar, salt, basil, and bay.
Allow to simmer as long as possible on LOW stirring to avoid burning.
Adjust seasonings (salt, sugar, and basil).
Serve over pasta.
If you want to add meatballs, roll 2 pounds of S&T Meatball Mix and add to the sauce raw.
Allow to simmer until cooked through—at least an hour.
Who am I?
What is my purpose?
Am I good enough?
Where is my place in the world?
These are thoughts every young person has at some point. These are the pivotal questions asked in this month’s Goon Squad Book Club book.
{If you wonder how we got our name–the very first book we read in July of 2011 was A Visit From The Goon Squad. None of us particularly liked the book–but the name just kinda stuck! Now we meet once a month to enjoy book discussions, food drink, and companionship.}
We read, I Am the Messenger. It is a young adult book where Ed Kennedy becomes the accidental hero after a foiled bank robbery. He has a choice, live up to the hype or fade away into non-existence. When some mysterious playing cards are delivered, that choice is taken out of his hands. I had so many thoughts about who was behind the mysterious cards that made Ed dig deep within himself to discover his own self-worth. God? Satan? Ed’s father? His friends? Someone else entirely unexpected? I’ll let you read and find out yourself…
Each character was so perfectly flawed that you couldn’t help but falling in love. Ed Kennedy reminded me of 21st century Lloyd Dobler, every woman who is 35+ had a major movie crush on that guy circa 1989 (yes, I looked it up)! He was tragic and full hearted. All he wanted was THE GIRL. He did right by everyone else but was never able to believe he was good enough. I fell in love with Ed just like I was 13 again. He had his faithful companions with secrets of their own including the love able Doorman…his terribly smelly, old dog. Ever the underdog, Ed was worth cheering for. I loved that he rolled with the punches, figuratively and literally.
We had a small book club meeting this month–only 6 members were able to make it. However, each of us enjoyed the book very much. We would all recommend it to a friend, young adult boys especially. It is the kind of book to hook young men, especially if assigned as a school read…as one of our Goonies does. It’s a bit edgy for the classroom which is part of its teen appeal. Most agreed that this was a book you could read just for the story or you could delve deeper looking for literary symbolism. Our next adventure takes us to the 1920’s in Suzanne Ridell’s The Other Typist.
In honor of the Doorman, I found this while looking at some recipes online. The lovable dog in our book was loyal to the core even though he stunk to high heaven! These Blue Cheese Poppers might have a smell that rivals the Stinky Cheese Man, but their flavor cannot be beat! I lightened up the original recipe as a mere 3 poppers didn’t seem nearly enough bang for my WW buck, er…point plus. At under 1 point plus per popper, I felt like I could indulge on this rich treat without all the guilt.
STINKY BLUE CHEESE POPPERS–FULL FAT VERSION
Karyn In The Kitchen 