There's a Camera in My Kitchen

I love to cook and I love to take pictures. So, after countless moments spent meandering through The Pioneer Woman's website and paging through her cookbook, I became inspired...and I promise you that after a few minutes on her site and in her cookbook, you'll be hooked too. What's not to love? Her photos are gorgeous, her voice is honest and funny, and her recipes are delicious. So, after reading up on aperture and her ten tips for food photography, I decided to make fajitas and take a few pictures along the way.


This recipe is something I adapted from the Food Network...shocking, I know. The recipe was for a grilled flank steak, and I amped it up a bit to make my fajitas, a dish which my friend Jen has just dubbed my signature summer dish. Thanks, Jen...so glad to finally have a signature dish.

So, here we go.

The Cast of Characters

The Peppers: green, red, jalapeño, serrano
Garlic
The Citrus: oranges, limes
Vidalia onions
Balsamic vinegar
S & P
Chicken Breast & Skirt Steak
(not pictured, because no one really wants to look at a pile of raw meat next to those beautiful veggies)

The key to this recipe is citrus...lots and lots of citrus. Zest two limes and one orange before you juice them. 

Now the marinade...The acid from the limes (and a bit more from the balsamic) is essential to breaking down the tough skirt steak. The oranges add a wonderful sweetness to the marinade.  Pour the sweet and tangy juice mixture in with the zest.

Oooh, look, an action shot.  Here, I am using cheap balsamic vinegar.  Since the marinade will just be discarded there’s no need to break out the “good stuff.”  Again, the vinegar will help to break down the steak and make it more tender.

Next, I chop the garlic and jalapenos.    I sliced the peppers and kept the seeds and ribs intact, and no, that doesn’t make it too hot.  The finer you chop these items, the stronger they will be in your marinade.  Since the kids are eating this with us, I kept the peppers bigger to control the heat.

And here it is…the beautiful, citrusy, acidic, garlicy, mildly spicy marinade.  There’s also plenty of salt and pepper in here, too.  Yum.  I bet this would reduce into a lovely glaze…oh, wait, that comes later.

Here is the aforementioned chicken and steak.  How lovely is that bag of meat?  See how artistic this shot is?  Do you see the heart formed by the blue and pink Ziploc seal?  Beautiful.

And here, the marinade unites with the meat in citrusy harmony.  See the tough tissue on the steak that the acid needs to break down?

Place the bag o’ meat into a bowl and marinate in the refrigerator for at least 6 hours.  The longer the steak is in the marinade the more the meat will break down…allowing you to enjoy tender melty steak instead of chewy jaw-exercising steak.

While the meat marinates chop these beautiful peppers and this sweet onion into strips.

I like to cut the veggies in advance and place in the fridge so I can avoid handling knives while grilling meat.  Also, the veggies sauté for about the same time as the meat needs to be on the grill, so it just works out.

Six hours later…here is the meat with beautiful grill marks.  I like to drizzle a bit of the marinade on the meat as it cooks.  What about contamination, you ask?  Well, the meat stays on long enough for the marinade to heat up and caramelize, so I consider it safe. 

Here are the veggies happily warming up with a bit of olive oil on the grill.

And, now we are back inside to cut the chicken and steak.  Remember all that talk about the acid breaking down the steak, making it tender and delicious.  Well, that ONLY works if you cut against the grain.  And, well, I was busy taking pictures, being mocked by Kevin for taking said pictures, telling Faith and my neighbor to stop screaming, and getting Connor another cup of milk…so, I ruined the steak by cutting it with the grain.  Sadly, there’s no fixing that.  So, for today, we’ll overlook that minor [MAJOR] detail.  Prepare to exercise your jaw.

After the meat is sliced, add it to the sautéed veggies to bring the flavors together.  At this point I crank the heat and then deglaze with the juice of one lime, half an orange, a splash of balsamic, which helps to create a sweet tangy glaze over the veggies and meat. [It’s early evening, and I’ve lost the afternoon light through the windows…so sad]

Here is the finished platter of fajitas.  We like flour tortillas warmed over the fire on the stove…but I’m sure corn is equally delicious.

And, here is the prepared meal., served with a smile by my favorite sous chef.  Chicken and steak fajitas topped with sour cream, green onions,  Jen’s homemade Tequila Salsa and her fresh guacamole…lime wedges on the side, served with a homemade shandy. 

It’s a wonderful meal to celebrate the arrival of summer, and that’s just what we did.

Lasagna and Loved Ones

My family memories are almost always tied to the kitchen in one way or another.  The kitchen is a place of warmth and joy, smiles and laughter.  It is a place where everyone is welcome, no matter their level of skill or mess-making abilities.  My sister's refusal to touch raw meat does not keep her from our kitchens, and my children are always invited to help despite their knack for knocking over carefully measured ingredients.

I have always loved to cook, and if you know anything about my family, you know it's an inherited skill.  My father would spend entire weekends in the kitchen whipping up gourmet feasts, treating us to wonderful meals and leaving the dishes to mom.  Unfortunately, I have also inherited my dad's messy ways and haven't been able to adopt my mom's clean-as-you-go philosophy, so I am always on dish duty.  Despite the way I tease my mom about her lack of culinary talent, from her I have learned the importance of a thoughtfully frosted birthday cake and the beauty of an almond crescent cookie. 

Today I am making lasagana to celebrate the arrival of our new kitchen table.  Kevin and I have been married for almost 8 years, and we have been using an old table that my mom bought at a garage sale when we still lived in Posen...so we can't even put an accurate date on it.  That table has certainly served its purpose and many memories have been made around it, but I'm super-excited for the new moments we will share around this one.  And, tonight we'll start with lasagna...

A good pan of lasagna requires time and attention.  It can't be whipped together like a weeknight meal, and lucky for me, this week is spring break.  In my family, especially the one I married into, lasagna is for special occasions and special people.  It's a Sunday night meal or an entree that is just as important as the turkey on Thanksgiving.  Without a doubt it's my mother-in-law's specialty; hers is simple and authentic, always served with her homemade sauce and a bit of sometimes-charred bread.  My step-dad's lasagna, delicious as well, is unconventional in its lack of ricotta, but still is reserved for special occasions.   Preparing food for people I love always brings me joy, and it carries me away, lost in memories of yesterday and hopes for tomorrow, but lasagna, unlike any other meal brings comfort.

Today my lasagna will be loaded with a spicy meat sauce, layered with love and served with cheap white wine.  It makes me happy, and so does my new table...so tonight, we celebrate.

The Wisdom of Dr. Seuss

I've been in quite a Seussical mood lately. I'm teaching poetry and referencing the rhythm and rhyme of Seuss, and just this past Saturday there was a Dr. Suess read along at Target...a very pleasant surprise.  Faith LOVED it, and Connor enjoyed the snacks.  Dr. Seuss conjures happy childhood memories of reading and laughter...Hop on Pop and The Cat and the Hat will always be magical for me, and I hope my children can find that same magic soon.

This past November I shared some of the wisdom of Dr. Seuss with Bremen's National Honor Society members when I was asked to be their guest speaker...and here it is:

November 3, 2010

Hello and good evening. I would like to thank the administration, school board members, teachers and parents that are celebrating here with us tonight. I must admit that I am rather shocked and humbled to be standing here as the "guest speaker" tonight. Typically, I spend the days leading up to the induction in a frenzy working quickly to cross items off my to-do list...programs, flowers, candles, punch bowls...It's my job to make sure they're all here, and I'm pretty sure they are. However, this year I had an additional item on my list – WRITE INDUCTION SPEECH. It sat at the top of my list glaring at me, mocking me, taunting me. It's not as though I have never written a speech before; in fact, as a teacher I give speeches every day. However, the difference tonight is my audience. Tonight, I have been given the privilege to speak to the best students Bremen High School has to offer, and I get to thank their parents for sharing their amazing children with us.

I can clearly remember the night I was inducted into the Indian Star Chapter. I sat where you sit right now, surrounded by my friends, excited about a new honor I was about to receive. My family was proud of me, and I was excited. The guest speaker was Mr. Lombaer, the honors psychology teacher, and he read a book to us...a children's book...Oh, the Places You'll Go by Dr. Seuss. The book begins like this...

Congratulations!

Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.


You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

Who knew there was such power in the words of Dr. Seuss?

You are all certainly off to great places and many decisions do lie ahead of you, but you are here now because you have chosen to embrace your roles as leaders in this school and your community. You are here because you understand the importance of your education, and you are here because you are eager to serve those who need you. Being a leader is not easy, being a good student is not easy, being a willing servant is not easy, and yet those are roles you have chosen for yourself. So, tonight, be proud of the choices you've made to get this far, but be ready for the challenges that lie ahead.

Dr. Seuss warns us of tough times to come…

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
that Bang-ups
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

And these bang-ups and hang-ups are where your character will be tested. These tests of character will come in many forms: tough moments in friendships, difficulties in classes, trouble managing the millions of activities you are involved in, or emotional family times. Everyone will come up against some difficult days, but your response in those situations is what sets you apart from the others. Character is not easily measured, but it is easily understood, and tonight, we recognize you for the stunning character you display.

The wisdom of Seuss continues to say...

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

So, after tonight, once the pride and shiny newness of your membership has worn off, how willing will you be to go into a dark place and become a visible light? Will you simply continue doing what you've been doing? Or will you take bold steps to be a better leader, student and servant?

I believe that what choose you do with your leadership position matters the most, and that is a concept that has stuck with me since I was in your shoes. When you leave today, you will have a new membership pin, and a membership card signed by Dr. Kibelkis and me, but more importantly, you will be officially recognized as a leader in this school and community. You will be called upon to help others and to lead those who follow in your footsteps. Our expectations for you are high, and we expect your leadership to shine brighter tomorrow than it ever has. Now, more than ever, we live in a world where positive servant leadership is vital to personal success and the success of others. Be confident in your choices and enthusiastic in your service, so others can follow your shining example.

Finally, a bit more from Dr. Seuss...

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!


Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

Memories of Christmas Letters

As a child my family had a wonderful tradition of sending Christmas letters along with or in lieu of Christmas cards.  The letters gave us updates on the events of the year...we shared everything...first steps, new pets, family trips, broken limbs.  My memories of the letters are shiny and happy, full of anticipation and joy.  Sometimes I didn't know who the letters were from, but my parents would always explain, providing a wonderful lesson on my family tree.  Some letters were boastful and proud, others were humorous and light-hearted, but every one of the letters was laced with love and appreciation for what life had provided that year.  As a child, those letters were priceless glimpses into the lives of my far-away family members, and warm hugs from the families I saw every Sunday.

I remember a year when my parents placed the "responsibility" of writing the letter into my young, eager, nervous hands.  Wait, me?!  You want me to write this year's Christmas Letter?  Yes...they wanted me to write the letter, and I did.  I don't remember the contents, nor do I remember the year.  But I do remember how I fretted over the words that I put onto that paper.  From what point of view do I write this letter?  What events were important enough to share in this extraordinarily important letter?  Do I attempt humor or keep it simple and sincere?  The questions were endless, yet I managed to do it...I wrote the Christmas letter.  Again, I forget what I wrote about, but I do remember why I wrote it.  I wrote it because it was a family tradition...a tradition of celebrating the year's memories and sending love and good wishes for the upcoming year.

For us, 2010 has been a CRAZY year full of firsts and lasts, graduations and first days, surgeries and follow-ups, celebrations and parties, laughter and stress.  A year that I'm excited to wrap up, but sad to see go.  My babies are getting "too big for their britches" and I'm sad to see them grow up, but so proud of who they are becoming.  Faith's reading like a pro, just became a Daisy and can't wait to start up tennis again in January.  Connor is sleeping in a big-boy bed, still loves hats and is working on his ABC's.  Kevin is enjoying work and the excitement of assisting in the development of the County's new 911 building.  I'm currently wondering why I'm typing this and not grading research papers...oh, and hoping Santa brings me a puppy.

I recently read an article which declared that Christmas cards are dead.  It argues that since we live in a world full of instant electronic communication, there is no point to sending Christmas cards.  Want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas?  Send a mass text.  Want to show off the adorable picture of your kids in matching outfits?  Post it on facebook.  Want to send a personal message to a close friend?  Put it on twitter.  I understand the point...why spend money on cards and stamps, write out addresses and lick those God-forsaken envelopes when cheerful greetings can be sent with the click of a button?  For me, the answer lies in the tangible.  These Christmas wishes aren't the same when I receive an alert on my phone; instead I want to open up the envelopes to see what's inside.

Years later as I send out my own Christmas cards, I find myself remembering the letters I got so excited about, and now I understand why it's been years since I've sent or received a traditional Nagle-style Christmas letter.  I think it's because life has gotten in the way.  Busy schedules paired with the convenience of fancy personalized photo cards has made it easy for me to check the Christmas cards off my list each year...but for some reason this year something is forcing me to pause, and reflect...to celebrate the memories that have been made.  I think it's the way Faith poured over the years of collected Christmas cards that I'd packed away along with the Christmas tree.  Maybe it's my own craving for family traditions that kept driving me to write my blog version of the annual Christmas letter (Hmmm, a Christmas letter sent to all with the click of the mouse?  Am I killing Christmas cards too?).

So this year when the Christmas cards began arriving, I started handing them over to the kids to let them see who was wishing us well this year.  Faith works to open the envelopes, Connor bends the cards as he takes them out and together we hang them up as we talk about who the cards are from.  Faith comments on the photos, Connor likes taking the tape from the roll, and I am happy knowing that as brief as this moment is, we're creating a tradition. 

So, with this letter I send so much love and best wishes for the new year.

Why Not Count a Few Blessings?

We live in a world where our pace and "priorities" often make us forget some of the things that matter most.  Faith will be having eye surgery again at the end of the month, my dad is back in town after a 2-year hiatus, my brother is getting married in 6 weeks, and (as usual) I should do the dishes.  In what order to I arrange these parts of my life...mother, daughter, sister, wife?  My head is swarming with concerns, questions and to do lists, and my calendar is full, full, full.

When I go to bed at night my thoughts are focused on what's next: lessons to be taught, doctors to be seen, homework folders to be checked, meetings to attend.  It is rare that I pause to think about the moment I am in, and to be honest, I am in the middle of a few pretty great moments.  As I was settling into bed tonight, I thought I'd stop to be grateful for what I'm in the middle of.

So, here, in no particular order, are a few of the great things that are happening in my life right now:

I am going to be 30 in 5 weeks, and I don't think there is anything scary about being 30.  My children have wonderful grandparents and great-grandparents.  I really love being a teacher (except for when the crazy kid bangs his head against the locker while screaming at me).  I am a weight watcher, and I'm excited about it.  My kids are healthy and doing well in school.  My husband makes me laugh and is a terrific father.  I have good friends, and I know they are always there for me, just a phone call away.  I am working towards forgiveness.   The weather is finally mild enough to sleep with the windows open (as long as my trashy neighbors aren't outside).  My brother is getting married in 6 weeks.  It is September, and I am not coaching tennis.

Thankfully, I could go on...

Yesterday was September 11th, a date that will never pass without causing me to reflect on the blessings I have been given.  Tonight, my husband and children are resting comfortably in their beds, and I have much to be thankful for, so I am working toward slowing things down a bit.  Yes, my calendar is full and the kids keep me running, but there is no need to constantly be thinking about what's next.  So, right now, I'm off to kiss my kiddos before I crawl into bed to enjoy the fact that my bedroom window can be kept open tonight.

Growing Pains...Nora's Off to College

Twelve years ago I sobbed like a child as I hugged my baby sister outside of my college dorm.  She was six, I was seventeen.    I knew I was supposed to be overcome with joy because I was officially free of my parents and all that good stuff, but instead it felt a little like my heart was being ripped in two.  She was my sidekick, my favorite little girl.

And now, it's Nora who is leaving me, it should be easier this time, right?

I know it's cliche, but my sister is my best friend.   The term "best friend" makes me laugh because I think every woman has had about 10 "best friends" in her life time.  You know, the "best friends" we made in grade school, junior high, high school and college.  Some people were even cool enough to have a summer camp "best friend" (oh, how I was jealous of you).  Some of these people have left our lives, and others still linger, but there is nothing like the staying power of a true "best friend." 

And for me, that's my Norie.  She is amazing for 101 reasons, but mostly because she gets me.  Yes, she's an amazing person who has made me proud in the shave-your-head-for-cancer kind of way.  But she understands me like no one else can -- she can crack my code and speak my language.  She knows when I need her to laugh with me.    She knows when I am in need of a babysitter, always offering her time.  She knows when I need to vent.  She knows when we just need a trip to the creamery.

Today, my baby sister/sitter is on her way to college.  She's already had a 5-week stint at DePaul, so she knows how this college thing works.  She's strong and independant, and I know she will do great.  However, I just can't shake my saddness.  For the past four years we've been nearly inseperable...and for the past month we've seen each other nearly every day.  I am not looking forward to the withdrawl symptoms.

Since I hugged Nora outside my dorm twelve years ago, MUCH has changed in our lives.  Technically speaking, now we are both adults.  We have lost family members, literally and figuratively.  I have been her teacher and coach, she has been my student and athlete.  We have moved a time, or two.  She has learned to drive, I have been her passenger.  We have gained a step-father and step-brother.  Her boyfriend is a soldier.  She is an aunt, I am a mother. 

Our lives have been transformed; we are barely who we were back then, but one thing has remained constant.  She has always been, and will forever remain, my sidekick...my wonderful, sarcastic, compassionate, knowing, witty, brilliant sidekick.

Crickets and Cataracts

It is 12:24 a.m.  There is a cricket in my house, and I just made shadow puppets against the wall.  I have skimmed facebook and read several chapters of Eat, Pray, Love.  There is an apple pie on my stove that I'd love to devour (but I won't because I joined Weight Watchers today).  I am tired, distracted and anxious and I can't sleep because Faith has a cataract.

Yep, a cataract - a congenital cataract, which means that she was born with it, which means that it could have been corrected as soon as it was discovered...but, when was it discovered?  Monday. 

On Monday we saw an optometrist for the required kindergarten vision screening.  Faith was SO excited by the possibility of getting glasses that I thought she was fibbing about the vision in her left eye as the exam progressed.  Nope.  She fidgeted and squinted saying she couldn't see anything until a 6-inch letter popped up, "Um, is that an R?"  The tests continued and I just assumed it meant Faith got her wish...she was going to get those pretty pink glasses she tried on before the exam. 

So, imagine my surprise when I heard "cataract."  Wait, isn't that what makes grandpa's eye all blue and glassy?  Then the doctor says "congenital."  I'm sorry, what?  She was born with it?  Usually detected at birth...Fairly large....Serious vision impairment...Specialist...Correctable with surgery.

That's where I choked, did Faith hear that?  It's like the Chef Boyardee commercial where the mom doesn't want anyone to tell her son that there are vegetables in his "delicious" bowl of soggy ravioli.  Faith loves to play doctor, and surely the word surgery would pique her interest or cause alarm.  Nope.  Instead, she marvels at the exam equipment while I wish I had a notebook to start writing things down; all I could find was a crumpled Target receipt.  Fail.

I leave with a referral form in hand and a school eye exam form telling me that her vision is 20/200.  Faith wraps up the conversation with the doctor, "So, do I need glasses?  No?  Well, do you have any suckers or stickers?"  So easily satisfied.

Today we saw the "Specialist."  It was laughable really.  The opthamologist told me the exact same thing as the optometrist, but added a few more scary details and a heaping pile of mom-guilt before referring me to a Pediatric Opthamologist.  Scary details: lazy eye, probable surgery, more difficult recovery, should have been caught sooner.  Mom-guilt: you didn't notice this sooner, your pediatrician didn't notice this sooner, wish we could have treated this sooner.  [Please note: I am NOT a professionally trained opthamologist.]

I leave with a post-it note in my hand, written on it is contact info for the new "specialist" who will call me soon to give me an appointment time.  The doctor tells me, "If they don't call you soon, call them."

Two hours later, I call.  The soonest appointment is September 8th.  Um, If time is of the essence, shouldn't we get moving here?  I call another doctor...late September.  Then I call a third.  This receptionist scoffs at me when I tell her today's doc said it should happen ASAP, "Ma'am, you are treating a 5-year-old for a condition which she was born with."  Seriously?  Now this stranger adds to the pile of guilt?  Finally, I start beginning my calls with, "Do you have an August appointment for a child who needs a congenital cataract treated?" [I thought that sounded more desperate, more needy...which is EXACTLY how I feel right now.] 

Finally, I find a cancellation (thanks for the referral, Jenny Reid).  Tomorrow at 10:55, Chicago Ridge?  Yes, we will be there.  After a few moments of can't-believe-you-didn't-notice-sooner, the receptionist arranges the appointment with comfort in her voice and assures me that "Faith will be in good hands."
We'll know more tomorrow, and I'll share what we learn.

So, with a head full Internet "expertise" and a heart full of anxiety, I am still listening to that damn cricket...g'night.