Friday I'm in Love: With Jell-O

So, as we all know, I am not exactly a domestic goddess. When it comes to cooking, I'm not even a domestic priestess. Or noblewoman. Or servant. We should all be happy that my children don't starve to death when Hot Guy isn't here, is what I'm saying. I'm so nervous in the kitchen that I don't tend to let them cook with me (though they'd probably be better at it), unless it involves decorating cookies.

But then I saw that JELL-O had Halloween recipes. Making Jell-O is only slightly more difficult than boiling water, so I figured I might be able to handle their Spooky JIGGLERS recipes with assistance from the children.

Hugmonkey even helped me with finding the right JELL-O Gelatin at the grocery store.

If I was smart, I would have taken a photo while we were actually at the grocery store. 

We decided to make the Halloween JIGGLERS Hands, mostly because Ironflower wanted to be able to use Halloween cookie cutters on the leftover JELL-O. 

First we traced our hands. 

Some of us more carefully than others. 

Then we cut them out. 

Next was water boiling. 

And powder mixing. 

Then there was chilling time in the fridge. 

The laying on of the hand patterns. Lovebug was at basketball practice.

And then we added in Halloween cookie cutters. 

Lovebug's hand. Because you can't just trace a simple hand outline in second grade.

Pumpkin. Though it could be an apple. 

Post-practice snack. 

Ironflower would like to do commercials. 

So yummy! 

As soon as everyone was done and I was trying to shoo them upstairs, all I heard was, "This was so fun! When can we do it again? It was fun cooking with you, Mom!" So thank you, JELL-O. I owe you one. 

I was selected for this opportunity as a member of Clever Girls Collective and the content and opinions expressed here are all my own.

Friday I'm in Love . . . .With Dinner

I (sort of) made dinner the other night.

Normally, in our household, Hot Guy does the cooking. . .and if he's not around, we have hot dogs. Or grilled cheese. Or a delivery from the pizza place. Sometimes - if he's been gone a lot and I feel guilty - we'll do a hummus/veggies/crackers thing. But even I'm getting sick of our staples. Somehow it seems wrong to demand that my children try new foods when they've only seen me cook five things (I can also make spaghetti. But without the meatballs. Not popular.) So I decided to branch out.

The next day, when I was seriously questioning my decision to branch out (I mean, 3 busy kids, beginning of the school year. . .what was I thinking?) I got an email about easy, quick recipes using Pillsbury's Grands! Biscuits.  Obviously, a sign from the universe. Especially since my super-picky kids loooovvvveee biscuits.

But just to be on the safe side, I had Hot Guy supervise.

With assistance from Hugmonkey, who decided that his jester hat was more appropriate than his chef hat.

Except for the whole lack of vegetables and protein, I probably could have just served these plain. They are definitely within my tiny comfort zone. 

Not so much cutting chicken. It would be hard to try the Easy Grands Chicken Pot Pie without, you know, using chicken. 

Hot Guy said I didn't have to follow the recipe exactly (the email said that too, but it still made me nervous), so I   we cooked the chicken a bit first. It made things take a bit longer, but only by a few minutes. 

Almost ready for the oven. 

These are the boys actually eating real food at a meal. You can download the Pillsbury's Grands! Biscuits recipe booklet and tell me which recipes you think your kids will eat. We're trying the Taco Melts next. 

I had planned to take a picture of the just out-of-the-oven and put it here. Except that by the time I got my phone, Hot Guy had dished plates out to the hovering children. 

I didn't even get a picture of Ironflower eating at the table. It might have been because I was too busy eating myself. Definitely the best pot pie dinner we've had around here. 

I was selected for this opportunity as a member of Clever Girls Collective. The content and opinions expressed here are all my own and are not indicative of the opinions or positions of General Mills. Compensation was provided by General Mills via Clever Girls Collective.

Artichoke Wednesday

Because.

There was this email conversation with The Brains last night. About how awesome yesterday's post would have been if I'd been angry with an artichoke, not an article. (Thank you, Dawn) And Aunt Becky was all like, "I'm writing that post, bitches!" Or something to that effect. And Tracie was all like, "I already have! Hah!" And Carol Anne said she was in. I think Cindy and LucidLotus were really talking about fashion. But anyway.

That's how "Artichoke Wednesday" happened. If I had technical skills, there would be a button and a linky here. Instead, I give you this:

From TurmericSaffron. 

So, artichokes. Just for the record, I have never gotten mad at an artichoke. I think I probably could, though, if I tried to make something with one. Um, like spinach and artichoke dip. I seriously can't think of anything else you would make with an artichoke, but then again my children are known to get their anti-vegetable stance from me, so what the hell do I know? 

Other than artichokes look like they'd be hard to cut up. Hot Guy is sure I'm going to slice off a finger with my (lack of) cutting technique, but the only time I've even cut myself was when I was trying to slice a melon someone else's way. So, at least in my slow, messy way, I'm doing something right. But the artichoke would probably confuse me. It looks like maybe you could just pull it apart? And then mash it for the dip? 

That sounds  like a lot of work when it won't be as good as guacamole. Okay, no dip is as good as guacamole (which I do know how to make, mainly because it looked pretty easy when the waiter at this Mexican restaurant did it and then Hot Guy showed me how), but some come close.  Though only a really good spinach and artichoke dip could and I've only had a couple of those in my lifetime. Though that may be the spinach's fault. 

Spinach is kind of gross, after all. 

I think I need a good, easy recipe that has to do with artichokes. Also, directions on how to cut up an artichoke. Then I could fairly judge whether artichokes piss me off. 

It All Makes Sense Now. . .

Hubby made dinner tonight. Not a surprise, as Hubby is the cook in the family. The surprise tonight was that dinner wasn't very good. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. If I don't have to attempt to cook (thus protecting myself from injury and the children from salmonella), I'm happy. As dinner concluded, Hubby said, "Damn, I hate working so hard on something that doesn't turn out." I consoled him sweetly (no, I did, honest) while realizing. . .

THAT'S WHY I HATE COOKING.

When I cook, it almost never turns out. For me, cooking is like gambling. I spend all this time and money AND I NEVER WIN.

The only time I ever enjoyed gambling was when I played with someone else's money. My friend and I met these guys and because we were just so fascinating (or maybe they were just so drunk, who knows?) they gave us money to shoot craps. For someone whose previous gambling splurges included dollar slot machines and using gummy bears with my friends, the lure of the craps table. . .for free. . .was great. But I'd never have fun wasting my own money like that. Especially since I didn't win once (nor have I ever won on the slot machines OR playing poker with my friends). The people I know who enjoy gambling (even though they actually do it very rarely) win $1,000 on a boring Monday night. It turns out for them. . .like a good meal.

The only time I enjoyed cooking was when . . .okay, I've never enjoyed cooking. Even when I've made edible food, it's never the kind of food that makes you feel like you've won 1,000 or even 10 dollars.

You know what else I hate? Softball. Why? BECAUSE I NEVER HIT THE BALL (no, really, I have depth perception issues and I have never, ever, successfully hit a ball with a bat).

Maybe I didn't try hard enough during softball in gym class. Maybe I shouldn't have needed to go rest (and read) in the nurse's office every Thursday. Maybe I should spend more time with cookbooks and Rachel Ray. Maybe I should try gambling again. Maybe if I just gave all these things one more chance I would discover the joy that other family members get from them. . .

Nah, f*** that.

Maybe I'm Not That Bad

I just read this article in Slate about children's nutrition and suddenly I am feeling better about myself. Maybe my children don't eat a lot of things, but at least they honestly appreciate the taste and texture of the foods they do eat.

I hadn't really considered the inherent sneakiness of putting pureed veggies into their brownies, but now that I think about it, it does seem kind of awful. Nor had I paused to consider how many nutrients would be left in veggies that had been cooked, pureed and baked into small portions. Probably not very many.

So, I'm not going to turn to a life of pureeing (I swear to Goddess that word is spelled correctly, no matter how bad it looks) and cooking foods that I can sneak the purees into. Which is a relief, since I really didn't want to learn how to cook complicated stuff anyway.

I'm just going to keep putting healthy foods in front of them, knowing that someday I will break their little veggie-hating wills.