Peeled Zucchini...Your Secret Ally

Who doesn't like zucchini? Well, it turns out the answer to that question is "Everyone in my house except me." I don't understand these people. It's green, it gets squishy when steamed, it's bland...oh, now I get it. But it got me thinking: with these qualities going for it, zucchini could be my secret ingredient in a lot of dishes, lending its nutritional value without standing up in the middle of the dish yelling "I am zucchini! Hear me roar!" Except for one thing, that telltale green skin.

You know where this is going, right?

Yep, peeled and grated, zucchini fades into the surrounding ingredients and takes a back seat to stronger flavors. And I know for a fact that it's undetectable because I've included it in a number of dishes lately and my supertaster husband, Mike, hasn't noticed it at all. I know that he reads this blog, so I'm only going to reveal the recipe for one of the zucchini hiders. Mike, I love you, man, but sometimes it's better that you don't know. I'm doing this for your own good. Really. Did I mention that I love you?

Try it for yourself, and you'll see that it works. But for goodness sake, get rid of those incriminating peels and zucchini ends before somebody sees them!

Garden Sauce for Pasta
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, pressed or minced
4 tomatoes, seeded and diced
2 bell peppers, seeded and diced (use red bell peppers for maximum invisibility)
1 c. zucchini, peeled and grated
1 T fresh herbs, minced (parsley, oregano, basil...whatever's handy)
Salt and pepper to taste

Put everything except for the herbs in a pot, cover, and cook over medium heat until all the vegetables have softened, stirring occasionally. Using an immersion blender, purée the vegetables until smooth. If the sauce seems too thick, add water to thin it out. Add the herbs, salt and pepper. If the kiddos don't like leafy green things, you can add the herbs before you purée the sauce.

Le Pièce de Résistance

There's nothing like a buffet-style dinner to bring out the creativity in the kids! Recently here in the Northeast US we had a heat wave, so naturally I didn't want to heat up the kitchen by cooking. So I thought a savory salad would do the trick. I put a dry rub on a piece of steak, then cooked it up on the grill. The kids and I went out to the garden to pick some fresh lettuce. A couple of sliced peppers, cheese cubes, tomatz, and a drained can of beans later, dinner was done.

Henry surprised the heck out of me by piling on the veggies, then drizzling the ranch dressing around the rim of the plate like a sous at Babbo.

He wanted to make a video of his masterpiece, so I let him. Here it is:

Looking to Video Games for Inspiration

This spring, I became one of those parents who downloads a boatload of little-kid apps for the iPhone to keep the rug rats happy during long waits. One of the apps I bought is Cooking Mama, a fun little game where the idea is to succesfully to prepare a variety of meals. The player performs kitchen tasks -- stuff like chopping vegetables by dragging his finger across the screen and sautéeing things in a pan by shaking the phone around -- in order to complete the recipe. The kids and I all love this game, so one day I decided to prepare one of the Cooking Mama recipes, Hamburgers Cooked in Tomato Sauce.

At first, my idea was to involve Jack and Henry in the food prep so that they would see how the various things they did in the video game translated into real life. But when it came time to cook they had better things to do, so I prepared the recipe myself.

And boy, did it turn out great! The burgers were mild enough to be very accessible to both boys while having enough flavor for me. Henry and Jack really scarfed them up, giving the big thumbs up when I asked them how they liked it. I can't wait to try some of the other recipes that Cooking Mama taught us!

Cooking Mama Hamburgers in Tomato Sauce

1 onion, chopped

1 T vegetable oil

1 lb. ground beef

1/2 c. breadcrumbs

1 egg

1/2 c. milk

salt and pepper

1 14 oz. can tomato purée

Sauté the onion until it is soft, not brown (or Cooking Mama will get fire eyes and you will FAIL). Put the onion in a large bowl, then add everything except for the tomato purée. Knead this mixture with your hands until it is completely blended, then form patties. Sauté these on both sides in a large skillet, doing this in two batches if necessary, until the patties are almost cooked through. Drain any accumulated grease from the pan, then pour in the tomato purée and cook, covered, for about five minutes. Serve the patties with the sauce from the pan.

Mom Hates Something, Too

Ever since I'd heard about it on Iron Chef (the original Japanese version, thank you--there is no other kind), I had wanted to try natto, which is fermented soybeans. Apparently, it's all the rage in Japan and has been for centuries.

Last week I was on a business trip to Denver, so I decided to have some sushi. There was a natto roll on the menu, and I ordered it. The sushi chef asked me hesitantly if I was sure that's what I wanted. "Yes!" I confirmed.

Long story short, it sucked.

First, the smell was very off-putting. Sometimes when things are fermented better things result from the process. Think beer, wine, and cheese. But fermented soybeans just aren't an improvement on the original.

Then there was the texture, or "mouthfeel" for all you foodies. The natto made everything except the outer nori wrap slimy. It was a real exercise to keep on chewing.

I was able to eat five out of the six rolls. I figured by that point I had proven to myself and to those in my immediate vicinity that I was a brave soul, someone who walks the "just try it" talk. It was hard, but I dood it.

I will never. Ever. Ask my family to eat natto. Sorry, Iron Chef and any Japanese people who may be reading this blog. I'm sure I've offended at least one person who grew up savoring the rich, unique flavor of natto. Well, if it makes you feel any better, go ahead and rag on something I adore eating. Here are a few to get you started: oysters, deviled eggs, stuffed cabbage, and lychees.

Modified Shepherd's Pie a Complete FLOP

Since Jack has declared mashed potatoes unfit for human consumption, I decided to try a modified Shepherd's Pie using white rice as the topping instead of mashed potatoes. I used a great product from the King Arthur Flour Company, Vermont Cheese Powder, which I mixed in with the rice, thinking that it would make it tastier. Well, for me it did, while the kids thought it was extra-disgusting.

As ever, I thought the dish turned out spectacularly, while the boys thought it was worse than field rations. They only finished their meals after I threatened to cut off their ice cream supply for the night.

For what it's worth, here's the recipe:

Laura's Failed Shepherd's Pie

1 lb. ground beef

1 chopped onion

1 clove garlic, minced

1 c. cooked corn (I used fresh; you may use canned or frozen)

1 can condensed tomato soup

1 1/2 c. cooked white rice

1/4 c. Vermont Cheese Powder

1/2 c. shredded mozzarella

In a large skillet, sauté the beef, onion, and garlic until the meat is no longer pink and the onion is soft. Drain off any accumulated fat, then mix in the corn and soup. Put this mixture into a casserole. Combine the rice with the cheese powder, then put this on top of the meat mixture. Sprinkle the mozzarella over the top, then broil until the cheese melts and browns a bit. Serve to the undying adulation of your grateful family. Or not.

Jack and Henry's Redeeming Qualities

I spend a lot of time ragging on my kids on this blog, when in fact they are pretty good eaters. As Krusty the Clown once said, "I kid because I love." Why, just last night Jack volunteered to try a little broiled cod after he saw Henry's friend eat some. "Not bad," he said just before frantically reaching for the milk to wash it down. "I was tricking you," he explained. But at least he ate it! And I didn't even have to ask!

And last week at the grocery store he asked me to buy some kumquats. Now, when I was a little girl, my gourmet fancy-pants uncle gave me a taste of candied kumquats. Which, to his horror, I spit right back into the jar. So I didn't have high expectations for these regular, unsweetened ones. The label on the package instructed us to squish the little beggars between our fingers to get the juices going and make the flesh nice and pulpy. On the count of three, we both took a bite. "One...two...three...HOLYMOTHEROFGODTHESESTILLTASTEAWFUL!!!" Into the trash they all went.

Another thing my kids eat that other kids don't is seaweed. They love the dried seaweed (nori) used to make sushi. And they especially love the Korean kind because it's roasted and salted and it tastes great. The whole family can't get enough of it. But the kids at Henry's school were giving him the business because they thought he was weird for eating seaweed. I asked him to ask his buddies if they liked yogurt, chewing gum, and salad dressing. After the big setup, he was to tell them that all of these things contain...seaweed! Ha! Eat that, nay-saying gradeschoolers!

So, yeah, I complain a lot even though I have much to be thankful for. But let's face it, would anybody be interested in reading about how every single thing I cooked was a smash hit? Nah, disagreement creates drama, which is interesting.

"Mom, I HATE This April Fool's Joke."

I can't believe this.

This April Fool's Day, I thought I'd surprise the kids by serving cupcakes for supper! Ha ha, they're really meatloaf cakes with mashed potato frosting! Big laughs. Well...not really.

Henry thought they were a riot, and gamely posed for his picture before wolfing his "cupcake" down.

Oh, Mother, you're a real card!

Jack, on the other hand, was not amused. He thought he was going to get actual cupcakes and that, coupled with his newfound aversion to mashed potatoes, put the nail in the coffin of this joke.

Mom! I thought you meant real cupcakes!

Incidentally, cupcake-sized meatloaf cooks a lot faster than one huge meatloaf and automatically creates individual portions, so I'll probably use this method of cooking it in the future. The instructions called for foil muffin cups, but I didn't have any so I just baked the meatloaves in the muffin pan and placed them into paper muffin cups after they were cooked. These splayed out and didn't really sell the gag. Plus, cleanup was a real drag.