iCarly provides inspiration for tonight's mega-hit dinner

My son Henry likes to watch iCarly on occasion, and I have to admit I like it too. One of the characters invented Spaghetti Tacos, which Henry thought would make a great dinner for the Foley family. My first thought was to enclose the spaghetti in a tortilla and wrap it up like a burrito. But I quickly realized that it was hard taco shell or nothing at all, since both boys have told me in the past that they hate flour tortillas.

So we had Spaghetti Tacos, with veggie sticks on the side to give the meal at least a slight nutritional value. As you can see from the pictures, it was thumbs up all the way!



Spaghetti. Tacos. So. Good!



Don't bother me, can't you see I'm eating?


I'm not going to provide a recipe for this post. If you can't put two and two together on this one, I really can't help you!

Ham Chokettes, or "Favorite Food + Favorite Food ≠ New Favorite Food"

When I was a kid, one of my favorite meals was Chicken Croquettes. My mom used to cook them in a deep-fryer that had belonged to her father, and they were little slices of heaven. Of course, in these modern, fat-free times I hesitate to deep fry anything. Yet somehow, I can get behind "shallow frying" things in a pan that has about a 1/4" of oil in it. Basically it's the same thing, but it takes a little longer because the morsels aren't being cooked on all sides at once as they do when they're suspended in oil. Hey, I sleep at night.

After Christmas we had an abundance of leftover mashed potatoes and ham. (Note to self: From now on always buy spiral-sliced ham.) So I thought that since the kids both like mashed potatoes and I could kind of sell the ham to Henry (Jack loves ham, so no problem there), what could possibly go wrong with combining the two into croquettes?

Plenty.

"Mooooommm, what is this?"

"Mom, what kind of meat is this?"

"I don't like these!"

Of course, Mike and I both chowed down like there's no tomorrow. They came out just fine, but the boys' underdeveloped palates couldn't make the intellectual leap into novel flavor combinations. At least that's what I keep telling myself.

Ham Croquettes

2 c. leftover mashed potatoes

1 c. diced ham

1 egg

1/2 c. leftover gravy (optional)

Salt and pepper to taste

1 more egg*, beaten

1 c. breadcrumbs

Oil for cooking

Combine the first five ingredients until well blended. Form mixture into smallish patties. Dip each patty in the beaten egg, then in the breadcrumbs to coat, putting them on a plate as you go. Refrigerate the patties for at least an hour. Do not omit this step! If you do, the patties will fall apart in the hot oil, guaranteed. Been there, done that.

In a deep skillet, heat 1/4" oil until just about smoking. Cook the patties a couple at a time, turning once when they have browned. Drain on paper towels and serve with whatever sauce will keep your little rug rats happy.

* Don't you hate it when a recipe calls for a certain measure of stuff, then halfway through the recipe you find that you were supposed to have used only some of it in an earlier part of the recipe, saving the rest for a later step? Me too! That's why I've put eggs on the list twice. You're welcome!

What They Don't Know Won't Hurt 'Em

Henry's on this "I'm not hungry" kick when I ask him what he wants for breakfast, to which I always reply, "You have to eat breakfast, that's what gives you energy for all the stuff you're going to do today," blah blah blah, static static static. Anyway, sometimes I can get him to drink a fruit smoothie at these times, which satisfies my desire for him to have something nutritious to start the day.

So the other morning, I blended some frozen raspberries, frozen peaches, strawberry yogurt, and some water to thin it out. After it was done I had a taste. Swa...swa...SWEET! I couldn't serve him that in good conscience. How could I bring this beverage back from the brink of disaster? Easy...silken tofu.

This bland food is much softer than regular tofu. It's great for sauces, dips, and spreads because it takes on the flavors of whatever it's combined with. So, I figured, why not smoothies? As it turned out, it worked perfectly. Not only did it cut the sweetness of the smoothie, it was virtually undetectable and added protein. Both Henry and Jack guzzled it down. Score one for mom!

Fruit Smoothies with Silken Tofu

1/2 c. frozen raspberries

1/2 c. frozen peaches (about 5 slices)

1/2 c. strawberry yogurt

1/2 c. water

6 oz. silken tofu

Blend. Serve. Give yourself a high five.

An Aptly Named Dish

We hosted Christmas dinner over at my house this year so now we have lots and lots of leftovers! Let me say for the record that this was the first time I've ever bought a spiral-sliced ham, and it was AWESOME! Serving it was as easy as falling off a log, and I've been throwing ham into just about everything we've eaten since. But Mike grows weary of the ham, so tonight I decided to use some of the leftover turkey in a dish I like to euphemistically call "Stuff on a Shingle."

Now, I know what you're thinking: "That's not what it's called!" Well, before you tweet about what a know-nothing idiot I am, remember that I'm selling this stuff to a four-year-old and a seven-year-old. What you call it is your own business. I call it Stuff on a Shingle.

It's your basic recipe: white sauce, turkey, some frozen peas, a little salt and pepper and that's it. I purposely made it bland. I had made a loaf of whole wheat bread in the bread machine earlier today, so I toasted up some slices and poured that lovely concoction on top. Brilliant! Add a salad and you have a meal...

...that nobody liked. Jack actually stabbed himself when his fork skidded off the hard crust of the toast!

Come on, it's not like it was battery acid or anything. Take a look:

Mmmm, I've never seen anything so tasty looking!

Another triumph!

I'm having it on a baked potato tomorrow for dinner while the kids eat hamburgers.

Stuff on a Shingle

2 T butter

3 T flour

2 c. milk

Salt and Pepper

2 c. chopped meat (turkey, ham, beef, pork, etc.)

1 c. frozen peas

In a saucepan, melt the butter. Add the flour and mix it in until it forms a roux, a sort of paste. Cook this for about a minute, then add the milk a little at a time, whisking after each addition to avoid lumps. After all the milk has been added, continue cooking and stirring until the sauce thickens. Season with salt and pepper, then add the meat and peas. As the peas thaw the temperature of the sauce will reduce so that you don't burn the roof of your mouth with your first bite.

Serve on toast or a baked potato. Bask in the praise of another magnificent meal.

I've Met The Only Kid Who Hates American Chop Suey

Last night a bunch of little kids ate over at my house. Naturally, I decided to serve the slam-dunk meal for kids: American Chop Suey. Word on the street was that two of the kids hated onions, so Mike, who was acting as the evening's prep cook, puréed the crap out of them until they were undetectable in the final product. Yay, Mike! When it was served, four of the five kids lay into it like starving jackals.

But there was this one kid--let's call him Max--who absolutely hated it. He literally spat his first bite back into the bowl right there at the table! There were extenuating circumstances--his mom had just left him in his aunt's care for a few days--so we decided to coddle him just a little bit. I did something I'm not proud of but that I will lay odds that every mother has done at least once in her lifetime: I rinsed it off.

Now, this is not the first time I've ever rinsed off food to placate a kid who just can't stomach all those darn flavors. This summer I sprayed the seasonings off of a perfectly good macaroni salad. Here's the photographic proof:

Before: Macaroni Salad. Yum yum!

After: "I can't believe I'm doing this."

So, I rinse off the American Chop Suey, right? Then I set it before Max, who stares at it uncomprehendingly. I asked him, "Would you like some ketchup?" He answered yes, so out came the King's Condiment, which he proceeded to load into the bowl. Well, if you rinse tomato soup concentrate from the American Chop Suey then add ketchup, you've basically replicated the recipe. Which Max discovered with the first bite.

His aunt's no dummy, so she asked him, "Max, how old are you?"

"Seven," answered Max.

"Then take seven big-boy bites." Ooo, snap!

Max took seven of the lamest bites that could have been characterized as "big boy," then was mercifully excused from the table.

Guess you can't please all of the people all of the time.

Obtaining Buy-In

My idea to create dinner table harmony worked like a voodoo charm! Here's what went down.

On Sunday, I called a family meeting to discuss all of the stress that's been visiting our dinner table lately. I told everybody how depressing it was to try night after night to feed them a wide variety of nutritious dinners only to have them gag and retch at the very thought of putting it into their mouths. I equated what I create (dinner) to things that the boys create (artwork, LEGO sculptures, etc.), and asked them how they would feel if I didn't even want to look at their drawing/LEGO/whatever because I'm sure I didn't like it even though I'd never seen it before I just knew that I'd hate it. I think it sunk in a little bit when I explained it like that.

After working on the emotions, I gave everybody an assignment. I spread out the cooking magazines and kid cookbooks all over the dining room table. Then I told everyone to pick three dinners they like to eat. The only restriction was that it couldn't be pizza or macaroni and cheese. Since all of the publications feature full-color photos of the food it allowed everyone, even pre-reader Jack, the opportunity to have his say.

I gotta tell you, it worked. Not only did we come up with a comprehensive list of non-gagworthy dinners, that night Henry himself helped cook the lasagna he'd found in one of his cookbooks! But it couldn't be a Foley dinner without a twist ending: Jack declared at the table that he hates lasagna. Of course you do, Jack, that's why four hours ago you said how much you love it.

Here's what we came up with and our success rate so far:

I'm going to convene this family meeting once a month from now on. The results speak for themselves!

I'm Tired...Tired of Playing the Game

Oh, man, the family wore me out this month.

Last night, Jack literally cried when faced with the prospect of eating my wretched Chicken and Turkey Pot Pie. Henry muscled through half of it, since now he's at the age when he can see that a) it upsets me when people don't like my cooking and b) he'll get dessert if he puts in a "good, honest try" as they used to say around my own dinner table as a child. Even Mike chimed in. "What is this I'm tasting? You didn't put tarragon in here, did you? (I know he hates tarragon.) Did you put celery in this? (I know he hates celery; see "Cream of Yuck Soup.")" Well, since I made two and froze the other one, I have an emergency covered dish to give to some ailing family that lacks taste buds. Or I can give it to my mom. She'd eat it. She'd love it.

Two weeks ago I poached some chicken breast, then made a creamy chicken and rice casserole topped with panko. Errrrrrgh! (That's the sound of the "wrong answer" buzzer on a game show.)

Later that week, to use up the chicken I made Chicken Pasta Alfredo using Trader Joe's Alfredo sauce, frozen veg, and little wheel-shaped pasta. Errrrrrgh!

I think I've got it figured out. My family's enjoyment of dinner is in direct inverse proportion to the effort I put into it. All three of these dinners took just minutes to make. And seconds to criticize. Coincidence? I don't think so.

However, the month wasn't a total wash, foodwise. Last Saturday, I shopped at a fabulous supermarket new to the area, H-Mart. It's laid out like a Western supermarket, with a huge building, wide aisles, and it's clean (No offense, C-Mart in Chinatown, but your bathroom would gag a maggot.). It sells food from all over the world, with a focus on Korea. There's a whole kimchee section (!), and you can buy pre-marinated meat that you just grill up and you've got Korean barbecue. I was in foodie heaven! But guess whose kids don't like Korean barbecue? Oh well, at least they liked all the shumai, edamame, and seasoned seaweed I got. I guess things aren't as bad as they seem.

Well, today I'm going to call a family meeting. I have a scheme to get everybody on board with the meal planning. Check back to find out how it went...