• instead of quiche

    The other night I had all the fixings for quiche—a disk of pastry, browned sausage, frozen spinach—but I just wasn’t in the mood. There was a half-gallon of white beans in the fridge, too. Every time I looked at them, I felt guilty. I really needed to use them up.

    A soup would be good, I thought, but white beans plus spinach would be sure to equal a dinnertime battle. I wasn’t in the mood for that, either. Maybe I could put the beans in the quiche? Meh…

    “I know! I’ll make a quiche soup!” I yelled, but not out loud. (Is this why I get headaches? Because I’m yelling inside my head all the time?)

    I’d turn the crust into crackers and the quiche filling into a brothy stew!
    The crackers would sit atop the stew, all jazzy-artful!
    It’d be quiche, deconstructed!  
    Yes! Yes! Yes!

    And that’s just what I did. I rolled out the pastry, cut it into rectangles with a pizza cutter, and stabbed it all over with a fork. I made a thick, dairy-free soup. Table side, we drizzled in a little half-and-half and sprinkled on the parm.

    The meal was super yum, even my husband said so, and the pastry crackers were a huge hit—so melt-in-your-mouth rich, fragile with tenderness.

    In the oven, they puffed up into flaky layers, kind of like a cheaters puff pastry.

    The whole meal gave me a big thrill, it did.

    Quiche Soup

    If I weren’t cooking for a lactose-intolerant eater, I’d add the half-and-half straight to the soup pot. Also, a bunch of cheese—the children would’ve probably liked that. However, the broth and beans and meat combined to make the soup plenty rich-tasting, I thought, even without cheese (or with only a bit as garnish). Either way, it’s good.

    ½ recipe of lard pastry
    1 glug of olive oil
    2 medium onions, chopped
    2 cups browned sausage
    1 10-ounce package frozen spinach, drained and chopped
    ½ gallon cooked white beans, drained
    3-4 cups chicken broth
    salt and black pepper
    half-and-half, for garnish
    freshly grated Parmesan, for garnish

    for the pastry crackers:
    Roll the pastry out as you would for a pie crust (i.e. between two pieces of plastic wrap), but make it more in the shape of a rectangle than a circle. Lay it on a sided baking sheet (to catch the fat drips), cut it into little rectangles with a pizza cutter. Stab each cracker with the tines of a fork. Bake at 350 degrees until golden brown and puffy, about 15-20 minutes. Cool to room temperature before storing in an airtight container. Best used the same day they are made.

    for the soup:
    Saute the onions in the olive oil. When tender, add the sausage and spinach and heat through. Add the beans and broth. Bring to a simmer. Season with salt and pepper.

    to serve:
    Fill each bowl with the soup. Add a drizzle of half-and-half and a flurry of Parmesan. Set a couple crackers on top. Dig in! (A spoonful or two of white wine added along with the cream is very nice, too.)

    This same time, years previous: apples schmapples, dusting the dough, light-as-air hamburger buns and sloppy joes, how to freeze pumpkin

  • the quotidian (10.29.12)

    Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
    everyday; ordinary; commonplace 




    Charlotte had her first visit to the vet.
    She weighs nine and a half pounds.
    The cat weighs eleven.

    Two thinking hats?
     He better get all the answers right.

    Making Music.
    (Or maybe I should title it “Not Fighting.”)

    Looking at pictures of Bezaleel and Guatemala.
    My son’s mentor helped to build the school where we’ll be working.

    Dreaming of something besides grammar. 

    Rosetta Stone: Spanish, of course. 

    All dressed up for a birthday tea party.
    (The florescent green socks peeking out of her cowgirl boots crack me up.)

    Exuberance.
    My daughter in yet another wig.
    (What is it with my family and wigs?)

    Joint Party: these boys all turned thirteen within a week of each other.

    Birthday activity: the hosting mom’s absolutely brilliant idea.
    See spider man up there on the left? That’s my husband. 
    (He helped to build the wall, back in the day when he was working for the university.)

    I made the party desserts: a chocolate peanut butter cake, two apple pies
    and a double batch of blondies.

    This same time, years previous: how to bake pies on the stove top

  • the details

    Sorry to leave you hanging there. I sort of dropped a bomb and then wandered off.

    Things are moving along in fits and starts. Some days it feels like this trip is the most preposterous thing we have ever done and other days it feels perfectly rational. I expect I’ll continue to fluctuate between the two feelings for like, oh say, the next twelve months or so.

    Most of the time, my head is spinning. Perhaps you’d like to see my brain’s transcript? Here, take a peek:

    TwomonthstillweleaveEEK.Howwillwegeteverythingdone.VACCINES!Mustcleanouttheclosets
    andWEHAVENOSUITCASES!WHEREWILLWEGETSUITCASES!andtheatticeWEMUSTEATUP
    ALLOURFOODRIGHTNOW!anddigthroughallthewinterclothesandfindanoldcomputertotake
    andDEALWITHTHEKIDS’ANXIETYandfindinsuranceandgetrentersand—

    Good grief. What in the world are we thinking? We can’t even drive to town without the kids about killing each other. How in the world are we going to take a trip to another country? Clearly, we are insane.

    Also, we are so, so happy.

    Crazy happy, that’s us. Just go with it.

    As things stand now, my husband and I are slated to be the Vocational Arts Facilitators at Bezaleel School, a boarding school for K’ekchi’ Indians. My husband will teach carpentry and do maintenance for the school. I will do things involving literacy, working with women, maybe cooking. We will have a house. The kids will participate in a lot of what we do and continue their homeschool studies. They’ll either learn Spanish … or K’ekchi’ (which would be really bad because then we wouldn’t be able to understand them).

    The school is located five hours north of Guatemala city, in the highlands. It will be cold and rainy for the first part of the year, and there is no heat. The people are very tiny, reserved, and shy. We will not stand out at all, I am sure. Not at all.

    ***

    Now, for the back story

    Six weeks ago I was sitting in a sunny spot on the deck, chatting on the phone with my friend. We were discussing life and kids and Stuff In General and in passing she mentioned a job description she spotted on the MCC website. While we were still talking, I moved inside to look it up on the computer. And then I got so excited that I had to hang up the phone.

    I called a friend and neighbor who just so happens to be an MCC Person Who Knows A Lot. “Is this crazy?” I asked. “They are asking for one person for this job. They wouldn’t take a family of six, would they?”

    “Apply,” she said.

    I started filling out the forms before I told my husband, and by bedtime that night, we had submitted our resumes and letters of inquiry. (For the record, we have a history of moving fast. Our engagement lasted all of seven and a half weeks, and we put an offer on our current house only a few hours after my husband had walked through it—I had never even seen it.)

    “There is no way they’ll take us,” my husband kept muttering. “Six people? No way!”

    I was inclined to agree with him. It seemed pretty farfetched.

    A couple days later I cornered him in the back hall. “Suppose they say yes. Would you want to go?”

    “Isn’t that a question you should’ve asked at the beginning?”

    “Yeah, probably. And your answer would be…?”

    “Yes, sure. But they’re not going to take us. It’s crazy.”

    The “no” we expected to hear never came. Instead, our emails with MCC got longer and more involved. Friends who knew Stuff About This Sort Of Thing said that it was time for us to form a support team. We needed to quietly move ahead.

    About a month into it (read, a month of tongue-biting, hand-wringing, nerve-wracking waiting, waiting, waiting), we got a call from headquarters. “Would it work to do a conference call this afternoon? Between you and us and the MCC reps in Guatemala?”

    So that afternoon, instead of rest time, I set the kids up in the bedroom with a movie. My husband came home and we reviewed the list of questions I had written up. And then we sat at the kitchen table and waited. The appointed time came and went. When the phone rang, we both jumped, just like in the movies, and looked at each other, panicked. “Answer it!” my husband hissed.

    The details are still not all worked out, and of course nothing is for certain until it happens, but things are now moving forward rapidly. The job description is being revamped. We met with potential renters last Sunday. Last week we applied for passports. Today we shared the news with the church.

    There is so much more to this story, especially how we feel about it. There are Whys and What Fors and Hows that I have not even touched on. I imagine that as this becomes less News and more A Part of Our Lives, these bits and pieces will be incorporated into our story. The full picture will gradually be revealed—I expect it will be full of bright, splashy colors with some grays and dark shadows, too. Because no undertaking such as this is ever easy.

    (And for those of you worried about whether or not I will continue to blog: I hear there is internet access where we will be, so yes, yes, yes!)

    This same time, years previous: under the grape arbor, applesauce cake, garden inventory 2009, pizza with curried pumpkin sauce, sausage, and apples