christmas, at last

It has been six full days since we attended the live Nativity at the Church of Heavenly Rest on Fifth Avenue to set the tone for our holiday, and, at last, Christmas is beginning to feel complete. Last night big, pillowy snowflakes covered the mud and grass in a clean white blanket and Steve and Violet made plans to build a snowman in the morning. The scent of brown sugar and vanilla filled our rented holiday home as buns, half-cinnamon, half-chocolate, baked in the oven. Steve's stated goal for the week was to bake his way through our trusty King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion, and so he did, making bread in various forms: twists with chocolate and mascarpone, whole wheat bread, cheesy buns, and, today, pretzels. Our waistlines can attest that the week has been a tasty one. We miraculously (really!) found a home on the North Fork of Long Island in which to "play house" for a week, a cool, beautiful, newly renovated place that makes us think of what it might be like if we ever abandoned city life (it never goes beyond thought).

And we deserved it, after weeks of getting our apartment ready for guests, and ourselves ready to get out of their way. We wish never again to spend Christmas Eve and Day frantically cleaning and packing, but there are no guarantees. We thought we had Christmas all figured out a couple of years ago, a leisurely month of tree cutting, music, and outings, and then we added a second end-of-November baby and leisure abandoned us, possibly on a permanent basis. Add to this the likelihood that this was our last Christmas in New York for a while--more on that soon--and there no longer seems to be a point to creating an elaborate tradition. Maybe our tradition will be that we do every Christmas differently, aside from finding a Christmas Fair to peruse, attending a Messiah sing-along sometime in December and a religious service on Christmas Eve, and opening stockings on Christmas morning, all of which we managed to do as usual this year, in spite of the chaos.

It has been a beautiful week, just the four of us holed up here, doing projects and reading stories, the kids laughing and playing together, enjoying being a family. I love these people we have made, and the one I have made them with. We will be glad to be back in our regular life in a week or two, but for this moment, we are going to inhale every last crumb of our holiday.

Proudest parental moment:  Violet's unprompted suggestion that we wait to open presents until we had arrived at the house on Christmas Night. Is it that she has never seen television commercials, and therefore does not believe that new toys make for a happy life? Or was she just born with the desire to delay gratification in favor of something better? If so, I am certain she didn't inherit it from me!

Best entertainment: Watching Townsie dance. That boy has moves, bouncing up and down, sliding his head side to side. He will dance to anything with a beat, from classical to pop, or to the blender, in the absence of something more melodious.

Best quote: 

Violet: (Pointing to the horizon) "What is that? There is some light, then some dark cloud-like things over it."

Us:  "That's the sky."

Violet:  (Pointing again to the horizon) "No, that thing way over there, not straight above us."

Us:  (Noting that there is nothing else to which she could be pointing) "Yeah, that's the sky."

Best reason for living in an aparment: A one-year-old with stairs is nothing but trouble.

Most heartwarming thing ever: Watching our two kids play and laugh together. We thought we couldn't love anything more than having one child, but what do you know...

date night, east village

turning up the heat

Whereas the first time around I felt the need to prove that a baby would not hamper our ability to go out to dinner every night, with the recent arrival of our second child I have an equal but opposite impulse to affirm that we are capable of feeding ourselves and our children in the excellent manner to which we have become accustomed, and doing it every single day from our very own kitchen. That recipe folder that has been fattening over the last few years, full of potential meals that remained untested, is finally getting its day. It turns out we can make Mexican food that we crave, like these Smoky Chicken Corn Cakes from Real Simple (we used blue cornmeal and cherry tomatoes to make them prettier), served with a side of Meg's crockpot black beans. Mmmmm. Dare I say, we are giving Mesa Coyoacan, our favorite Mexican fusion in Brooklyn, a run for their money.

constant cravings

After craving crepes for weeks, the other day I found myself staring at a refrigerator full of apples from our farm share and  had a sudden brainwave. Crepes with apple compote turned out to be easier than apple pie, and tastier. Forgive me for not measuring, but it's all to taste anyway. By the way, our other topping combinations were also worth mentioning: strawberry preserves with fresh cream cheese, brown sugar and lemon, and dulce de leche with dark chocolate. Who needs a neighborhood creperie if you have a kitchen (and these T-things)?

Apple Compote

apples, any variety, peeled and cubed

fresh-squeezed lemon juice

cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves

brown sugar

water or juice

Combine all ingredients and simmer in cast iron skillet or saucepan for ten minutes, or until apples are soft and coming apart a bit and liquid has thickened. Serve warm.

Sweet Crepes

1 3/4 c whole wheat pastry flour

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 c sugar

2 c milk, room temp

3 eggs, room temp

5 tbs butter, melted
1 tsp vanilla

Mix dry ingredients, mix wet ingredients, pour wet into dry and whisk.  Refrigerate a minimum of 1 hour, overnight if possible.