Kid-Friendly Spinach Tart

8 05 2010

The preschool that my kids attend is outfitted with a miniature kitchen so they can learn “practical life.” My youngest spends the bulk of her time there, making lemonade and then cleaning her own cup, spooning her own yogurt for snack, and one on spectacular day, grating nutmeg. After all my years in the kitchen, I’d never seen a whole nutmeg until I saw her pick one up and begin to scrape it against the diminutive grater. All winter they’ve been asking to repeat this project at home. This week, I finally let them. I needed nutmeg for a spinach tart. I also needed to occupy them while I got the rest of dinner ready. Grating nutmeg happily solved both.

Parents might wonder about the safety of little hands using a box grater. I know I did. (And obviously trust your instinct with your own children – this is not Fisher Price, and accidents can happen.) I reminded them how to hold the nutmeg so their knuckles wouldn’t accidentally hit, told them to go slowly, and did a quick demo. If my son had been older, he would’ve rolled his eyes. Instead, he said “I knowww, mom. We do this at school,” in a voice much older than his five years. At school, they use a clean (i.e. never-painted-with) paintbrush and sweep the fragrant powder into a thimble-sized bowl. We scooped it into my measuring spoon and dumped it into the bowl, me delighting in the extra flavor the freshly-ground spice would impart, them in the pride at being allowed to help in such a grown-up way.

There are other ways for kids to help with this recipe. Washing spinach is always a favorite. They can crack eggs and measure cottage cheese and stir. After all this helping, they might be so invested in the recipe, they’ll actually eat the tart.

Speaking of which, I make this in spring and early summer with fresh spinach, and substitute beet greens in the fall and winter. This one was made with beet greens from a huge crop of beets I picked at last fall’s CSA harvest festival. I blanched and froze them in 10-ounce packages specifically for this recipe. I opted to use the whole leaf, stem and all, but if you’re serving it to friends or have picky kids, I’d suggest chopping off all but the green leaves. The stems, like the beet to which they used to be attached, turn everything they touch red.

Spinach Tart

1 9-inch pie shell, unbaked (I make one with 100% whole-wheat flour)
10 ounces of chopped cooked spinach or other greens (weight after cooking)
3 eggs, beaten
1 cup cottage cheese
1/2 cup grated parmesan
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
1/16 tsp grated nutmeg

Preheat oven to 425. Make pie crust using your favorite recipe, prick all over and bake for 12 minutes. Remove and set aside. Turn heat to 375. Cook spinach (or thaw a package of frozen) and press out all the water. Mix eggs, cheeses, buttermilk and spices. Add spinach and mix well. Pour into pie shell and bake 40 minutes or until filling is set.





Grilled Artichokes

23 04 2010

I’m not the kind of mom who fashions sculptures out of vegetables so my little people will eat their greens. (If you’re able to do this, bravo. Maybe you could share a tip or two?) But that’s not to say we don’t have fun with our food. We do, just in other ways.

We eat artichokes, for example. Ever seen a three-year-old tackle one? It’s a preschooler’s dream. She uses her fingers to rip off the leaves. She slurps as she scrapes the “meat” off with her teeth. She pushes away the thistles as we dig out the heart. Nothing tame about this stuff!

Artichokes are in season in California and the prices are low, so last week we bought more than I needed for dinner, knowing the extra hearts would be put to good use on pizza or in salads another night. Then I remembered how good the grilled artichokes are at Houston’s, and decided to recreate them at home. Because the chokes were already cooked, all I had to do was brush them with Annie’s organic Red Wine and Olive Oil Vinaigrette, sprinkle them with kosher salt, and toss them on the grill. Delish.

I know there are fancier ways of creating this dish. You can quarter and clean the artichokes prior to grilling. You can make your own vinaigrette and while you’re at it, you can whip up a garlic aioli for dipping. Normally I would take this route, and if you want directions along those lines, click here for a recipe from Bon Appetit.

But this blog isn’t a magazine; it’s real life. Sometimes I have time for fancy, sometimes I don’t. This time, I chose fast instead of fancy. You know what? The kids didn’t know the difference, and yours won’t either. They’ll be having too much fun eating.





Instant Banana Pudding

9 02 2010

What I’m writing about today is something for folks too young to diagram a sentence, drive a car, or cook over a double-boiler. It’s also for the grown-ups who hang out with them.

Last week I shared a recipe for blancmange, an eggless pudding thickened with cornstarch instead of the who-knows-what in boxed instant puddings. Here’s a pudding recipe that my kids like just as much, mostly because they make it all by themselves. Note that this is not something I would ever make for me. I think my kids know this, and that’s part of the appeal.

To start, grab a banana. Sorry that it requires a banana, since bananas don’t grow anyplace local and I’m usually an avid proponent of local food. This is one area where I make an exception, especially in winter when the fresh fruit isn’t local anyway. Let your little one peel it, then mash it in a bowl with a fork or a masher. Then give them a tablespoon and let them measure and stir in 3-4 tablespoons of applesauce (preferably unsweetened organic) and 1 or 2 tablespoons of organic vanilla yogurt. Plain works well, too; you can always add a drop of vanilla extract. I know a friend who makes a similar dessert with her kids, only she adds crushed graham crackers.

Remember this recipe/project A) on snow days when you don’t know how you’re going to get through the next few hours until dinner; B) you have extra bananas, but not enough for banana bread; or C) you want to see your children grin proudly as they devour their oh-so-healthy dessert.





Meatballs with Spaghetti

5 01 2010

Last week, in the most unlikely of places, I dreamt of meatballs. Given that I was in Florida, you’d think my thoughts would’ve wandered to something more appropriate. Sangria, perhaps.

But no. Surrounded by sand and shells and sunshine, all I wanted was winter comfort food. All I wanted was meatballs.

The small island where we were staying has an Italian restaurant. But at dinner that night I turned them down, opting instead to make them from scratch at vacation’s end. Too many meatballs are dry, oversized spheres, like baseballs in disguise. I didn’t want to risk disappointment, especially not when the craving was so strong.

So yesterday, our first full day back in Denver, my oldest kiddo and I got to work. I made the red sauce; she, full of creative energy from watching episodes of The Next Food Network Star, tackled the meatballs. Elated to be working on her own, she measured and mixed and shaped, happily exclaiming at one point, “Mommy, this is the first time you’ve let me work with raw meat!” Having just celebrated her eighth birthday, she saw this as a badge of honor, a promotion to the next level of responsibility in the kitchen.

Next she browned them in batches in olive oil (another first), then covered them in red sauce to simmer until they were fork-tender and delicious. How good were they? So good that hours later, when my five-year-old was snuggled in bed telling me about the best part of his day, he said it was eating his sister’s meatballs. Next time, we’ll double the recipe.

Meatballs
Makes 12-16, depending on size
Adapted from The Fannie Farmer Cookbook

1 pound lean ground beef
1/2 cup bread crumbs
2 cloves garlic, minced
2-3 tablespoons chopped parsley
1 teaspoon dried basil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 egg, beaten
2-4 tablespoons olive oil
4-6 cups red sauce, preferably homemade

In a large bowl, mix the first eight ingredients (beef through egg) and shape them into small balls. In a saute pan, heat 2 tablespoons oil over medium heat and add half the meatballs. Cook about 15 minutes, turning gently until brown on all sides. Remove to a plate, heat remaining oil if necessary, then continue with the second batch. Remove and wipe down the pan. Gently transfer all meatballs back to the pan and cover with 4 cups of red sauce. Cover and let simmer 45-60 minutes, adding more sauce if the pan looks dry. Serve with whole-wheat noodles, red sauce and plenty of parmesan.





Day before Thanksgiving

25 11 2009

The day before Thanksgiving finds me doing what you’re doing: cooking. I just finished a three-hour stint in the kitchen, preparing dishes that can be made a day ahead so I can cook less and play more tomorrow. Today is also my son’s 5th birthday, so in addition to orange-cranberry sauce, cornbread for stuffing and green beans, I made his favorite chocolate cake with vanilla buttercream. Somehow, pumpkin pie doesn’t cut it for a birthday dessert, even if the birthday falls just hours from Thanksgiving.

All my kids love to cook, but today it was the birthday boy who joined me at the stove. (The day hasn’t been all work. We took him out for sweet potato pancakes and then to see mummies and an Imax film at the Nature & Science museum, a dream outing for a little boy.) He and I started with the orange-cranberry sauce (see recipe below), admiring the bright red jewels and laughing as they popped in the simmering orange juice. “This is my favorite part of Thanksgiving,” he kept saying. I’m not sure if he meant the cranberries or cooking with me, but my guess is he meant a combination of the two.

With no one to pick up at school and grandparents in town to amuse his sisters, we had plenty of time to slow down and appreciate being together and really look at our ingredients. If you have kids around today and tomorrow, remember to bring them in there with you; there’s so much fun to be had with kids in the kitchen. Today we just enjoyed each other’s company and marveled at the rainbow before us. Red cranberries. Orange zest. Yellow cornbread. Green beans.

The orange-cranberry sauce, right after we dumped the cranberries into the pot.

Our nearly-finished product. The only steps that remain are to sample it when cool…


…and add orange zest to taste.


Two pans of cornbread, soon to be cornbread stuffing with sausage, rosemary and apples.


Green beans for tomorrow’s wok-seared green beans. This, along with our Spiced Pumpkin Soup, diversify the flavors at the upcoming feast.

Orange-Cranberry Sauce
2 oranges
½ to 1 cup sugar
12 ounces fresh cranberries

Zest one orange and set aside. Juice both oranges, and pour juice into a one-cup measuring cup. If you don’t have enough, top with water until you have 1 cup. Put juice and sugar in a medium pot and bring to a boil. (Use the smaller amount for a tart sauce and the greater amount for a sweet, i.e. kid-pleasing one.) Add cranberries and bring to another boil, then let simmer for 8-10 minutes or until berries have popped. Remove from heat and let cool. Add orange zest to taste and refrigerate.








Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 82 other followers