blah, blah, blah plus successes and failures

My dad says the word "vegan" gives him a stomach ache, so I'm not going to use it anymore. Instead, I'll say "eating healthier." Really, I'll never be v****, because I don't think it's necessary to completely eliminate animal protien from your diet. For one thing, plants don't have vitamin B12, which is essential. That's why we'll always eat beef--good source of B12 and good things like iron, and I have a really good, inexpensive source of it ;-)

Furthermore, in the China Study, they refer to this rat experiment where half the rats were fed a diet that was 20% animal protien, half were fed 5% animal protien, and they were all injected with a toxin that induces cancer. All of the rats on the 20% diet got cancer, none of the 5% rats got it. So, the 5 percenters didn't have to be v**** to be healthy, just 'eat but very little meat,' like Eliza R. Snow said.

So, here's how eating went down last week with the help of my new cookbook, V****omicon:

Damon stopped crying because we don't have any real milk, but he's still not happy about it, and doesn't eat cereal anymore because soy/almond milk taste funny.

Claire finally tried almond milk and likes it! I was afraid she'd never eat cereal again. (I love cereal--my mom was a saint for making us a hot breakfast every morning, but I can't handle that much cooking. Getting one meal on the table a day that's not peanut butter sandwiches makes me a hero in my own mind.)

Anne is an eating angel. She tries almost everything I make (even the eggplant dip!) and often likes it (even the eggplant dip!). Bless her little heart.

Here are some of the recipes we tried and how we liked them:

Broccoli-Potato Soup with Fresh Herbs, page 138--yuck. No one liked it, even though I tried to salvage it by adding cheese. It calls for mint, which is just a weird herb for potato soup in our opinion. Plus, we're used to potato broccoli soups with butter/milk/cream/all three, so it's hard for a v**** soup to compare.

Mexian Millet, page 118--My brother Lex even thought this one was all right, and had two helpings.

Nachos with refried beans, guacamole, and cheese (will we ever be able to live without cheese?)--the only 100% successful meal of the week. Don't need a cookbook for that one.

Pumpkin baked pasta with carmelized onion--I thought it was delicious, Jake thought it was weird, the kids wouldn't touch it. First thing I've ever made with tofu that tasted good. But no one else liked it, so I'll probably never make it again.

Potato and Mushroom Blintzes--not bad, but WAY too labor intensive. If I'm going to spend that much time making something, it better be fantastic. It wasn't. And soymilk gives a strange flavor to crepes, in case you care to know. And I ruined the mushroom gravy that was supposed to go on top. Apparently apple cider vinegar is a poor substitute for white wine. Be quiet. Don't look at me that way. I'm sure you do stupid things, too, sometimes. Claire ate the crepe part, Damon hated the crepe part and wouldn't try the filling, Anne (whom I thought was my best eater) wouldn't try it at all.

So, there you have it. It's been a rough week due to some other things going on in our lives, and I'm wiped out. If things don't improve dramatically next week, I might consider bagging this new diet, or at least get milk for Damon.

If you've stuck with me this far, you must have too much time on your hands.

Cute Kids and Adventures in Flexitarianism

Here's Damon ready for Crazy Hair Day at school. Anne put on my glasses and said she's ready to go to the beach. Hear that, Aunt Wendi? Don't forget to plan our day at Bear Lake, just as soon as the temp gets out of the 50s.

It was a beautiful day today (too cold, though) and Claire said, "The flowers opened and the tulips bloomed for joy!" Random, but cute.

This atrocity is roasted eggplant. Who knew something so beautiful and purple outside could be so repulsive inside? I blended it (after the picture) with olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and cumin for pita dip for dinner tonight. I'm guessing I'll be the only one who eats it.

Anne's Birthday

"Anne, what do you want for your birthday?" I asked last month.
"Pwesents," she said.
"What kind of presents?"
"Ones with wed wapping papow."
I love it when kids are so easy to please.


Damon and Anne painting her pinata:



Some of the guests at Anne's party, held at Grandma and Grandpa F's house:

Thoughts on Food

I read too much and that's a fact. Recently I read The China Study by some guy who's probably never heard of the Word of Wisdom, yet wrote a whole book with scientific studies supporting it. So now I'm making some radical changes to the way I feed my family: we're slowly eliminating animal based foods and processed foods from our diet (except beef--what do you think I am, a heretic?).

About a week ago we had our last gallon of milk. Last night we ate our last egg in what might be our last batch of chocolate chip cookies. (I don't really mean last--we'll still eat stuff like that for birthdays and when we're guests at other people's houses.)

I think our cheese will hold out for a few more weeks, but we're down to our last few sticks of butter. I'm pretty sad about that. Hot, homemade bread will have no meaning for me anymore. Unless I find out how to make those fancy Italian breads you get at Macaroni Grill and dip in olive oil. Then we might be saved. If something as good as that bread can be made without butter.

Thanks to my mom we've been trying some new vegetables: tomatillos=good, Swiss chard=blech. I took a bite of raw Swiss chard. It tasted the way cow manure smells. It was better cooked with apple juice, garlic, and onion, but it still had a hint of dirt flavoring. No doubt it's very good for you--anything that colorful and that disgusting must be, right?

random quotes

Damon, sounding a little too expectant: Mom, if you and Dad die before we grow up, how big of a fortune will we get?

Claire on Jake's birthday: Dad gets the first [actually "feast"--insert 'ee' for 'ur' and 'oy' for 'ore' sounds] piece of birthday ["beefday"] cake, because he's older than all of us.

Anne while pointing to my nose: You have a big nose, and Dad has a big nose, and we have little noses.

Uhhh...

We had the missionaries over for dinner on Monday. Things went pretty well. Damon and Anne behaved (once I finally got them in the house anyway). Claire cried intermittently and insisted on sitting on the floor instead of at the table, which is actually a big improvement over the last time she ate with the missionaries. We were at my parents' house that time and she cried and screamed the entire time, including when one of the elders gave a brief message about how we should all be like little children--humble, meek, patient, full of love...

Anyway, during dinner on Monday I was distracted helping one of the kids and heard one of the elders say, "Do you guys have some black power?"

I wanted to be helpful and said, "We have a black man in our ward. He's a good guy and just lives down the street."

Awkward silence.

"What are you talking about?" Jake asked.

"I thought they needed some black power."

"He said 'black powder'."

Jake and the elders laughed hysterically for like five minutes.

When the laughing stopped I asked, "So what do you need black powder for?"

"We're going to blow up the [insert name of our city] dam and say a prayer. Then we'll get in the record books for most baptisms."

Oh. Personally, I think they'd be better off with black power.

Easter

Sorry about the dark grainy picture, folks. My camera batteries were dead, so I took a photo with the video camera, which obviously doesn't take good pictures.

This morning (Monday, the day after) Damon woke up crying because Easter is always terrible, bad things only happen to him, etc. We hoped he would be over the the disasters of yesterday, when the Easter bunny didn't bring any chocolate bunnies, Anne kicked his basket and broke his hard-boiled eggs, and then Jake made his hard-boiled eggs into egg sandwiches--no such luck. I tried to be sympathetic for a while, but finally told him that if he was going to focus on things like this, instead of the Resurrection, then we wouldn't do fun things like Easter egg hunts anymore. He cried for a few more minutes sans the whining, and he hasn't mentioned his ruined Easter since.

Tangential subject: how much do you/would you encourage belief in things like the Easter Bunny? When Damon asked me if there was really a Santa, I made sure he really wanted to know and then told him Dad and I were Santa but he shouldn't tell other kids, because it's not nice to ruin their fun. And with Easter, I didn't make it much of a secret that I was the one who had hidden the eggs. Jake is horrified at how I've ruined the fun of the holidays, but I just don't feel comfortable selling fabrications to my kids. I'll have to ask my friend Cindy W. about this sometime--I know she'll back me up, and her kids seem happy enough even though she's told them the truth since they were little. Do you think I'm a monster?