Belly and The Bug

Jinx

Damn. I was a little hesitant about posting my new cooking endeavor the other day because I was afraid I'd jinx it somehow. And I did. The family I've been cooking for went down to one night a week instead of two. The mom said she was feeling really guilty because she was hardly cooking anymore. I guess they've been getting three or four nights of dinner out of the two nights of food I've been cooking for them. I shot myself in the foot with my big portions. Ugh. Last week I made them peanutty noodles with chicken and broccoli, and salad. Tonight, per their request, I'm making pad thai with chicken and shrimp (personally, I would've spaced it out a bit since it's sort of similar to last week's dish, but I aim to please). Needless to say, I'm disappointed with this slight downturn in events.

Dude suggested I type up a list of sample entrees and some basic terms (pricing, etc.) and recruit a second client to keep the momentum going. I agreed and we specifically talked about two families we know who have two professional parents and little kids. Dude even said that he'd go talk to both of those families on my behalf (seeing as I hate selling myself). So I did. And Dude set out on Sunday afternoon to talk to them. But unbeknownst to me, he took a bunch of copies of the stuff I'd written and went to about five people in the neighborhood whom he thought might be interest and told each of them that I was interested in taking on a new client and it would be first come-first served (quite literally). I was slightly horrified when I found this out. Maybe it's no big deal, but it made me feel awkward. I'm not even exactly sure why. Anyway.... that was Sunday. Today is Wednesday and I've heard from no one. No. One. Not. A. One. And man am I feeling confident. Sigh. It's just a bummer.

But you know what makes me happy? Like, unreasonably happy? Maybe because I never had it as a kid or maybe because to me it means "summer" and "ageless" and "whimsy"? This....

Mmm. Sugary spun air.

HEY GUESS WHAT!!

I mean, hello friends. Has it really been a zillion months since my last blog post? Well, um, no.... but close. I know. Lame. But let's move on and start anew here because I've got lots to say. No dwelling in the past when I'm here now, right? Right.

So guess what? I'm doing something new. I've mentioned in the past that I used to work in nonprofit development and got a bit burned out, quit to raise my kids, lalalalala. I've been doing the mom thing for three years now and that's cool, but we all know that if I let that define me, I'd shrivel up and die. I'm so not kidding. Dude has pushed me from time to time to get a consulting gig a) to bring in a little extra money and b) to give me something to do to exercise my brain, retain my skill sets, have some outside adult interaction. He's meant well, but I haven't had the least bit of interest in pursuing this. But what to do, what to do.... I suppose I have to work again sometime....

I love cooking and damn I can turn it out. I really can. It's one of the few things I think I can brag about with confidence. Remember when I made all the food for our housewarming party? Anyway. Somewhere along the line I got it in my head that I'd love to be a personal chef. Screeching halt. Um, what? I have no formal culinary training or real professional cooking experience. I'm just a very good home cook. The audacity of me thinking I can do it professionally! The bravado! The hubris! Why would anyone hire me to cook for them? Especially here in Portland where you can't swing a cat without hitting a really phenomenal chef - the real kind who went to culinary school and has spent years in commercial kitchens. And that thinking is why I haven't done anything about it. Seriously. My cooking confidence is gigantic until I overthink it. And I tend to overthink everything. So tick tock time has passed and I've talked about it but not done anything because it seems ridiculous.

A good friend had two motives when she asked me to cater a small baby shower six weeks or so ago. First, she loves my cooking and wanted my food. Second, she wanted me to get off my ass and start putting my little cooking idea into practice. It wasn't exactly what I had in mind a la personal chef, but she was absolutely correct that it was a step in the right direction. We chose an Asian-themed menu (lemongrass beef skewers with peanut sauce; curried cashew chicken salad sandwiches; tofu otsu; pickled cucumber salad; minted fruit) and I sincerely had a great time from start to finish.

Lemongrass beef skewers and peanut dipping sauce

When I got home that afternoon, Dude told me that our neighbor across the street had asked him what I was up to. I guess he told her and she said, "I didn't know she did that! I'd kill to have her cook for us a few nights a week." My heart skipped a beat. Was she serious? One way to find out - I asked her. And yes, she was serious. Very. So over the next few weeks, we talked food and money and logistics and lo and behold.... I'm a personal chef, cooking dinner twice a week for a family of four. Ta da!

The family consists of the parents and two middle-school-aged boys. The dad is vegetarian (eats fish, though); the rest aren't. The boys are picky. The mom is allergic to walnuts and pecans. The scenario is not without its challenges, but it's certainly manageable. Every Wednesday night at dinner time, I bring them a hot meal that is table ready. I also bring a second meal that just needs to be heated/baked/etc. for another night of their choosing. It's cool because I'm only on the hook for one night a week but still get to cook two nights worth of food.

So wanna know what I've made so far? I'm going to assume you just clapped your hands together and exclaimed, "YES!!" You're so great.

Week One

Hot meal: orange chicken (at the adamant request of the 11-year-old), rice-edamame salad with slivered almonds and mint, and a leafy green salad with an Asian vinaigrette.

Second meal: spinach-butternut squash lasagna

Week Two

Hot meal: special miso-rubbed whitefish with lime-honey-ginger glaze, jasmine rice, sesame green beans.

Second meal: pizzas (pesto, artichoke, goat cheese, roasted red pepper, kalamata olive, mushroom, shallot; red sauce, pepperoni, roasted red pepper; pesto, prosciutto, roasted red pepper), green salad with green goddess dressing.

Week Three

Hot meal: coconut curry (chicken on the side for the meat eaters), jasmine rice, vegetable stir-fry with asparagus, red and yellow peppers, snow peas, broccoli, cauliflower, scallions, and carrots.

Second meal: creamy tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches (for the boys - smoked cheddar on ciabatta; for the grownups - gruyere and taleggio with fresh basil leaves on ciabatta).

Vegetable stir-fry prep board

The best part of all of this? I'm having fun. I like every bit of it from the menu planning to the presentation. And once I get into a real groove, I'll look into expanding with more clients. Eek! I'm doing it! Hooray!

And if anyone reading this is fearing that I'm about to turn Belly and The Bug into a food blog, rest assured that I'm not. I'm thinking this venture will be a good way to resurrect my much-neglected "me" blog. What better reminder than connecting the weekly meal with writing a blog post? It's literally like clockwork. And, uh, clearly I need to get back in the habit of writing. I'll be sure to tell you all about my precious hooligans and their recent antics soon. Now I need to put together this week's menu....

Twin speak

That so looks like "twin peaks" to my brain. Huh. Anyway....

People have asked me since before the girls could talk if they have their own language. And my answer has always been a pat "no." They don't. They speak English and a smattering of Spanish words. That's it. The end.

Except lately I've noticed as their play has become more and more imaginative that their vocabulary is going down that same path. I chalk it up to the fact that they play together and not that they're twins, but they do have some stuff that is entirely their own language. Four examples immediately come to mind.

The first two are games they play. I don't even know how the games are played (and when I've asked, they refuse to tell me), but they are called rockabolly and podidot. When one says "let's play podidot" to her sister, she knows exactly what that means.

The other two are food names. These seem strange to me because they decided to change the names, knowing full well what the rest of the (English-speaking) world calls them. Shrimp are not shrimp. They're beginnies. And red bell peppers are peescents. I made a shrimp stirfry for dinner the other night and Buggy asked, "Are these beginnies?" I told her no, they were shrimp. She said, "Right. Beginnies. Belly! We're having beginnies for dinner!" Belly was pleased. She loves beginnies.

That's all I can think of at the moment, but I wanted to make sure I got it down somewhere so I won't forget. These are the things with which I will have great fun embarrassing them when they are older.

Mr. Big makes me happy sometimes

Hi. My beloved Packers are heading to the Super Bowl. Yes, that's the first order of business on the docket. It fills me with such a ridiculous joy that I can't even put words to it. I. Am. Thrilled. THRILLED! And we're going because we beat the stinky Bears. And one of the biggest Bears fans I know is currently sporting a Facebook profile picture of me in Packer wear with a sign that says "Packers Rule, Bears Drool." It really doesn't get much better than that.

In non-sporting news....

We survived Christmas in Wisconsin. It was cold and white and the girls had the best time ever. They were SO into the holiday. We had gone over what would happen Christmas morning a zillion times: "When you wake up, wake me up and ask if it's morning. If it is, then we'll get up, walk down the hall, peek around the corner into the living room, and see if Santa came." Oh you shoulda seen their eyes light up when they saw full stockings, a giant pink dollhouse, and a pile of musical instruments. It was the absolute best! And, of course, as we moved into the opening of presents, they ripped the paper off with wild abandon. Between us and Santa, they got everything they asked for and so much more. Way more. Way too much more. Maybe they're too young to fully appreciate that, but I'm not. I'm very thankful that it didn't cause us any hardship to spoil them this year. As they get older and want bigger, more expensive stuff, this will not always be the case. I'm enjoying it while I can.

Then we came home. Back to the routine. But I had a little ace in my pocket - a wedding in California that I could look forward to. A quick trip by myself to see old girlfriends, wear a sexy dress, drink too much, dance and dance and dance and dance. It was all I had hoped it would be and more. I hadn't seen some of the other wedding guests in 10 years or more and there was something very gratifying about a) picking up right where we left off and b) being told that I looked better than ever. Shallow? Why yes! But who cares? It was fun. And a nice little ego boost. But the best part? Just hanging with some of my best girlfriends, including the bride. In the limo on the way to our post-reception-but-continuing-the-party party at the hotel, the bride insisted that everyone should sing "To Be With You" loudly and proudly. It's the corny stuff like that that I love - not only that she wanted to sing it but that we all knew all the words. We're dorks. And we celebrated that.... with a lot of booze. The morning came, um, a bit too quickly. Back to reality.

But you know what? Reality is pretty cool these days. Dude and I are doing well. Belly and Buggy are cool kids who keep me on my toes in more positive ways than negative lately. Could life be better? Well sure, but I'm trying to be focused on finding the joy in the little things. Sometimes thinking too hard about things leads to over-thinking which leads to seeing every last nugget of what's not "right." I'm just rollin' with my homeys for now.

Oh dear

Belly likes to hang on the doors in our house. Well, not every door - just the ones with long handles. She opens the door, grabs the handle on either side, and pulls herself up into pull-up position, knees clamped to both sides of the door. She does this all the time. Her upper body strength is crazy - biceps and triceps like little rocks. And she'll do it until she breaks a sweat. Her poor hands are calloused, but she loves, loves, loves it! Who am I to stop her? Funny kid.

The other night I was cooking dinner and Belly was happily hanging on the kitchen door. I smiled at my silly. "Why do you like hanging on the doors so much, Belly?" She lowered herself and said sweetly, "It makes my bottom tingle."

Oh. Great. Sigh.....