There's Something About Boys Called Jack

This is Jack. He's seven, and he has been at Stage Explorers Camp for the last 2 weeks. Just look at that little face.

Jack and I have become thick as thieves. We sit and talk at length about survival in the wild. At Jack's insistence, every day we are different animals. Today we were gorillas. Yesterday we were penguins. Tuesday it was hawks. We talk about what we'll eat, how we'll find our food, and how we will protect ourselves from predators.

Jack's probably not who you'd peg as the teacher's pet, but for some reason he has stolen my heart. As imperfect as he is, he is absolutely perfect. I think Jack will have some significant challenges as he grows up, especially in school. If you happen to meet him, give him a chance to be your friend. You won't be sorry!

Stage Explorers 2009!

I'm in my fourth of six weeks of Stage Explorers Summer Camp at work. I am so partial to this particular group of kids! They are so focused and attentive and sweet. I officially love them. We did "Head Shots" this week. Some turned out better than others. Here are some really great ones.

How Can I Not Comment

...on Michael Jackson's passing today?

I was standing in line at a Ukrop's checkoout a couple of years ago. There were these two VCU-student-types in back of me, looking at tabloids, and they were saying, "Michael Jackson. He is so weird. Was he ever any good?" And I promptly turned around to face them squarely, and I said "He was fabulous." And he really was. Put aside the controversy, the surgeries, the weirdness. He was simply so bloody gifted. Poor kid--his gift deprived him of anything resembling a childhood.

My first album, played on my little plastic stereo from Sears, was ABC by The Jackson 5. I will never tire of that recording.

Greek Beans with a Chipotle Twist

Andy and I have been experimenting with dishes that meld diverse cultures together. Last weekend, he created an amazing cauliflower in a red sauce that was spiced with Indian flavors. Kind of an India meets Italy thing. He has named this new sauce Maharaja-nara sauce. Isn't he a clever-clogs? I hope to blog about maharajanara sauce soon. I hope he can remember how he made it!

Yesterday I was in my favorite little Greek food store--Nick's Produce on West Broad--and bought a pound of gigantes. Gigantes are huge white beans with a creamy, beautiful texture. After they have soaked overnight, they're even more freakishly huge.



I was going to make the beans the traditional greek way (delicious!) but this recipe from 101 Cookbooks caught my eye. I love the smoky hot flavor of chipotle, and this just sang to me. Giant white beans, baked with greens in a chipotle tomato sauce with queso fresco crumbled on top, served with a scattering of toasted whole wheat bread crumbs and drizzled with a cilantro pesto. Oh yes. Come to Janine.

It was a pretty easy recipe to knock together. While the beans are cooking, you make sauce and pesto. The chipotles in adobo sauce and the queso fresco are really easy to find if your grocery store has a hispanic section. The chipotles come in a little can, and the queso fresco usually is with the Mexican cheeses and is shaped like a little wheel. It is firm and crumbly with a light, slightly salty taste. Feta could be used as a substitute.



The bread crumbs are nice and crunchy because they're toasted in a skillet with olive oil. The pesto is a very liquid consistency and could be made in a blender. I used a hand blender in a coffee cup! Instead of chopping up fresh greens, I used frozen collards. They worked great!

I sat outside with Maggie and a Negra Modelo, watching birds while the beans baked.



This is what it looked like right out of the oven.



And here it is, served with a side of brown rice. I think it's a really pretty dish!

The Junk Food Junkie Antidote!

I grew up on crap food, and I freely admit that I loved it.

Every once in a while I'll drive past a Burger King or a McDonald's or Hardeee's and I will almost get sucked in by that comforting greasy smell. The smell that is exactly the same, whether you are in Richmond, Paris, London, or Singapore.

Next time you feel a binge coming on, go to a website called This is Why You're Fat. This website is a photo gallery of the most excessive, cholesterol laden, ridiculously overindulgent and thoroughly disgusting dishes ever created. Scroll down through one hideous dish after the next, and you will soon find yourself feeling queasy and yearning for something fresh and plant-like. If this website should happen to make you salivate and feel ravenously hungry, please seek counseling and/or incarceration immediately.



This example is called The Sandwich of Knowledge. "The bottom tier contains eight strips of bacon, six sausages and four burger paddies; followed by a second tier of black pudding; topped by a third tier comprised of two diced chicken breasts and six fried eggs."

Now, knowledge of what, I don't know. Maybe the knowledge that you are going to die of a massive heart attack while sitting on the terlet with your drawers around your ankles.

Greens. The Other White Meat.

I wanted something flavorful, but super healthy for our dinner tonight. We have this wonderful cookbook called 660 Curries, which I think would be a hilarious gag gift for Jill Bari Steinberg, but that's another post for another day. This book is great if you have an over-abundance of something and need a recipe to use it up. There are just so damn many recipes in the book. The guy who wrote it said he called it 660 Curries because he meant to make it 1001 and just ran out of steam at 660!

This vegan dish is a main dish for us, but maybe a side for a carnivore. I just served it with brown rice, and it was very spicy and delicious, but light. And packed with nutrition! Loads of fiber and vitamins and stuff. In fact, it has 100% of the daily requirement of Stuff. It would also make a really nice side dish for a meat entree. It's a quick fix, and here's how I made it:

Ingredients:
1 medium onion, chopped
2 T canola oil
1 t cumin seeds
a puree of 10 garlic cloves, 2"piece of ginger root and 4 hot green chillies
1 pound of fresh spinach, stems removed and rough chopped
1 pound of fresh collard greens or mustard greens, stems and spines removed, rough chopped
1 14.5 ounce can of diced tomatoes
1.5 t garam masala
salt to taste

Saute the onion until it's very done. If you wish, you can add the salt right now--it will help the onions leech moisture and caramelize. Then, add the cumin seeds and fry them until they smell nutty, about 20 seconds. Add the garlic-ginger-chilli paste and swish it around until it colors a bit, about a minute. If it starts to stick to the pan, deglaze with a little water. Now add the greens a handful at a time, and cover between handfuls so they'll wilt. When you have added all the greens and they've wilted down enough, add the can of tomato with the juice. Let that heat through, then add the garam masala. Add more salt if you think it needs it. If it looks too watery, just cook uncovered until some of the water evaporates. Last but not least, and this is optional, give it a whiz with a hand blender. I just did a partial puree because I like the occasional chunks.

I served this with brown rice, but I think it would be lovely with couscous, too! The flavor is very spicy! If you are a wimp, cut down on the hot chillies.

Sleepy Old Girl

Gilda is the first kitty I had all to myself. I got her for my 39th birthday from Robyn O'Neill. She was a squirrely little kitten with a short stump where her tail ought to be. I was going through a divorce, living alone, feeling ungrounded, and I am forever grateful that my dear friend recognized that I needed a cat to come home to. I named her Gilda, and she slept in a little pile on my chest the first night she spent in my apartment.



She's 11 now, and officially elderly, but she is really very spry and still lots of fun. I'm pretty sure she spends most of her day sleeping on my bed when I'm at work. She is highly skilled at napping, looking fetching while napping, and displaying her mouthful of teeth with a big yawn.