One of the best things about my week has been these amazing sunflower sprouts I got at the farmers market. There are at least two camps where sprouts are concerned–the one which vehemently protests against their underside-of-the-lawnmower likeness, and the one I’m in. The one that can’t get enough. I’m lusting after a sprouting kit, but where would I put it?! I triumphantly brought home a pressure cooker from a garage sale recently. I adore it (more on that later), but we might actually have to store it outside or build a separate little shed for it. I console myself that our carbon footprint is currently very small.

But back to the sprouts. They are big, crunchy, glossy, grown with care locally and organically. And everyone else in my household is in the sprout-hating camp, so I can have them all to myself. Driving home from the market, I fantasized the whole way about how I’d enjoy them. This is the Fridge-o-Meter at work. I mentally run through all the bits in my fridge the way some women visualize their closets. I remembered that I had some cream cheese, and I knew there was a jar of big green olives with pimentos somewhere in the back of the fridge. Throw a brick of cream cheese in the food processor, add 10 olives, whiz it for 20 seconds, spread it on a piece of whole wheat toast, top with as many sprouts as possible before the whole thing topples over. Ding-ding-ding-ding!! The Fridge-0-Meter strikes again. It doesn’t take much around here.

This is for you, Emily. Emily is the Plain Jane in my life–she likes her food unadorned (for the most part) and is minimalist in just about everything except for how much mail she likes to receive. Love you, sister.

The kids and I have been having a lot of fun eating this week. Wyatt has been picking raspberries from our bushes every morning. He brings them inside, pulls down a piece of parchment paper, lines a cookie sheet, and freezes them to enjoy in the afternoon. Is he precious or what?

We made popsicles this morning, have been chewing on raw mint from the garden, and whooping it up at the Georgetown Farmers Market. We got a bouquet of fresh garbanzo bean stalks, and Wyatt helped shell them today, eating one every once in awhile. Still don’t know what I’m going to do with them–probably saute in olive oil, garlic, and cumin, then a squeeze of lime. I’ve never seen them before.

And the kids and I have eaten two huge bunches of rainbow carrots since yesterday morning. The carrots right now taste like candy, and they can’t get enough of them. Today, at snacktime, Wyatt asked for two carrots, two pickles, and two baby cucumbers. Plain Jane.

As promised, dinner tonight was just corn on the cob. Six beautiful ears from Alvarez Farms. I had one, Wyatt had three, and Loretta had two. They turned into neanderthals, munching the kernels off the cob like it was their last meal. Finally, all of us in stitches, I got out the camera, which prompted even more performance. Plain Jane, Ridiculously Delicious.

Plain Jane Corn
So silly I’m telling you this, but somewhere along the line, I learned to cook corn this way, and nothing beats it. Put big old pot of water on the stove. Shuck your ears (or have your seven-year-old do it). Cut them in half if they won’t fit in the pot. Drop them in, and get the water to a boil. As soon as it boils, turn the water off, cover your pot, and let the corn sit for 10 minutes. Now it’s ready to eat, and not even a tad overcooked. Nothing worse than mushy corn. And if you have a grill going, you can throw it on there for a quick second for some smoke and grill marks. Oh–one more thing. Let your children completely annihilate whatever cube of butter happens to be in the butter dish. No sense trying to protect it. Slathering corn is its highest use, anyway.

How’s that for a mouthful?

Here’s the story: I had a tub of whole milk ricotta in the fridge that was about to expire. I bought some beautiful little zucchinis at the farmer’s market last week with no purpose in mind. And here’s the real story–we are SWIMMING in kale around here, and I can’t use it up fast enough. I send Wyatt out to the garden to cut it, he comes in with big armloads, and I have to figure out what to do with it. I wish I knew someone I could call for ideas. Maybe someone who constantly thought about food.

And I have a friend whose son was just in the hospital and wanted to drop by some food. I often bring a galette in such situations for these reasons:

1. It will keep beautifully sitting on the counter for a couple days.
2. I have a stack of flat pizza boxes in my basement just for this purpose. Slip the galette in there on a piece of parchment paper, fold the box up around it, and it’s as indestructible as portable food gets.
3. There probably won’t be 10 other galette deliveries to the recovering household (though there is nothing wrong with eating spaghetti all week).
4. Savory ones are good at any meal. Fruit galettes are great for breakfast or dessert.
5. They make me look like a better cook than I really am.
6. It’s just as easy to make two. If I’m trying to gain entrance to heaven, I give them both away . If I’m more sane, I keep one for us.

Wyatt has been such a great helper and companion lately–cutting kale, watering the garden, getting snacks for Loretta, making up games for her while I clean the kitchen. During Loretta’s nap the other day, Wyatt and I lounged around on my bed, talking. It was one of those moments when I didn’t want to budge. He was letting me play with his hair and rub his back, and we were talking about the fish he planned on catching at Ross Lake. Somehow, I would up asking him if there was anything he was worried about. He put a pillow over his face, growled, and said, “Mom! Can we puh-lease not have this conversation?” End of Precious Moment. I went too far. Someday, he’ll be in therapy, saying, “My Mom. Wow. Where do I start? She always wanted to talk about everything. And what I remember most about my childhood is grocery shopping. Always the grocery shopping.”

Galette with Roasted Squash, Kale, and Ricotta

This makes two crusts and two fillings. You can, of course, halve it. You could also leave the kale out of the ricotta filling, sub sauteed spinach or chard for the kale, and use other roasted veggies on top–roasted tomatoes (YUM!) or garlic, roasted peppers. Just stay away from dumping a bunch of raw veggies on top, which make the situation very watery.

For dough:
2 c. flour
pinch salt
1/2 c. cornmeal
14 Tb. cold unsalted butter
2/3 c. ice water
6 Tb. sour cream

Pulse  flour and cornmeal together in the bowl of a food processor.  Drop butter in and pulse until butter is in pea-sized lumps. Stir ice water and sour cream together in a small bowl, then drizzle over flour mixture.  Pulse again about 8 times just until mixture holds together–you don’t want to pulse it so much that it forms itself into a ball.

Gather dough together and form into a ball.  Put ball on a piece of plastic wrap, loosely gather plastic wrap around it and twist, then press dough into a disc. Repeat with second half of dough. Refrigerate for one hour before rolling out.  Roll out on a floured surface till dough is about 1/8″ thick.  Fold into quarters and transfer to baking sheet.  Unfold and fill.

For roasted veggies:
Heat oven to 425.Take three or four small zucchini or summer squash and slice them into 1/2″ thick rounds. Cut a medium yellow or red onion into coarse chunks, and toss the squash and onions with a big glug of olive oil, salt, and pepper. Spread mixture out on a cookie sheet lined with parchment, and roast for 25-30 minutes, until veggies are soft and getting charred in places. Stir once or twice. Remove from oven and cool.

For ricotta mixture:
Saute down a BUNCH of chopped kale with olive oil and salt. At least two bunches if you’ve bought it at the store, and as much as your pan will hold if you’re picking it. I start with a big ol’ wok-full, then fill it up again when the first addition shrinks. Cook for about 10 minutes. Let it sit for a bit, and the water will pool up underneath it. Leave the water in the pan, and put the cooked kale in a medium bowl. Add one 15 oz. tub of whole milk ricotta, 1 egg, grated zest from one lemon, salt, and pepper. Mix thoroughly.

To assemble:
Get your crust onto the pan you’ll be baking it on. Spread half ricotta mixture on crust, leaving about a 1″ border. Scatter half of roasted veggie mixture over ricotta, then finely grate a bit of parmesan over the top. Fold crust in, pleating as you go. This is where “rustic” really comes in. It will look beautiful no matter what. Brush the crush with an egg wash–one egg, lightly beaten with a tsp. of water. Dip a pastry brush in, and lightly brush the crust.

Bake at 375 for 25-35 minutes, until crust is golden and filling is bubbling a bit. Let cool for several minutes before slicing. Is great at room temp the next day, too. I never refrigerate them.

I have a trillion recipes I could post, but guess what? I’m taking the lazy road tonight. Have you heard about that new “Slacker Parent” movement? Apparently, it’s now alright to NOT enroll your children in endless day camps and music lessons. And it’s acceptable to put snacks in ziplocs instead of artisan reusable pouches made of oilcloth. I could have written that book, but I was slacking instead.

Here are some highlights of my week:

1) Farm-fresh eggs from Yancey’s coworker. We paid just $2.50 for a dozen–enough for her to keep buying chicken feed. She assures us this is a long-term arrangement. God. I just couldn’t be more over-the-moon about it.

2) Wyatt texting Yancey at work tonight. I surreptitiously read it, and he used all his laborious typing to say, “Hi Dad. Tonight mom made coconut ice cream with perfect mango on top.”

3) And I did. (Make coconut ice cream, that is.) I couldn’t sleep last night, so got up and made coconut ice cream. Duh. It’s so cliché.

4) Having a playdate at the park this morning with 4 moms and 10 kids. We barked orders, doled out snacks, tracked down lost shoes, and still managed to have  meaningful conversation.

5) Making pottery with Nicole and her kids in her beautiful backyard. Wyatt got totally, cutely into it. (Don’t tell him I said it was cute.)

6) Sitting with Jenn outside at the wine bar, interrupting each other with stories and questions. What is better than making a new friend?

7) Loving my client work right now, feeling useful, collaborative, and connected in helping this great workplace become even better.

Ah. Oh–one more thing. Reading Geneen Roth’s Women Food and God. I think every woman should read it. My guess is you’ll hear more about it if you stick around. My biggest a-ha–I am often driven by a deep fear that there will not be enough. If I take a minute to read this post, how clear it is! Look how much there has been, just this week. There is enough. There will be enough.

I had just cracked two eggs into a bowl this morning, readying Wyatt’s usual omelette, when he called from the living room, “Mom, can we have pancakes this morning?” On top of that, as I was putting Loretta to bed last night, she said, “Mom, I have two dreams. One is that we will spend the day together tomorrow, and the the other dream is that we will have pancakes for breakfast.” I double-dog-dare you to resist that.

I had no intention of posting about this since I already have at least two other pancake posts, and there’s nothing special about this recipe. Then I decided that 1) I’d rather keep in touch with you than hold out for some spectacular recipe and 2) I have quite a bit more to say on the subject of pancakes and stewed fruit. Of course, you are not surprised by this.

On pancakes, here’s where I stand currently:

• The only reason I don’t make them every time Wyatt and Loretta ask for them is that they derail me from my healthy breakfast regimen–granola and yogurt, oats, wheat toast and an egg, etc.
• For several months, I’ve been obsessed with Molly’s oatmeal pancakes. The kids like those, but they’d prefer these. I give in every once in awhile. Plus, those little wonders require thinking ahead a whole night before.
• I never order pancakes out. Sometimes, they arrive lukewarm (horrors!), they’re usually overpriced, and, snobbily, they are never as good as mine.
• As I have mentioned a bazillion times, I always have buttermilk in my fridge. If you love pancakes, I recommend adopting this strategy.
• I have stopped using my double-burner nonstick griddle in favor of my 10″ cast iron skillet. A 12″ would be ideal, but Yancey might annul our marriage if I brought home another pan. Cast iron skillets cook perfect pancakes every time, and it’s worth the wait.
• I cook them in butter. You could go all unsaturated on me and use vegetable oil, but I would still like you.
• The biggest favors you can do your pancake batter are 1) Don’t over-stir it. Leave lumps and 2) Let the batter sit for 10 minutes before you portion it into the pan. This helps the gluten develop and results in much fluffier morsels.

On stewed fruit (in this case, blueberry sauce), here’s where I stand:

• Sometimes, yours truly purchases a whole flat of berries at the farmer’s market with no plan for it. If a pint or two of those precious berries needs to be used up, this is what you can do with them.
• Cooking fruit down with a splash of water and some sugar is timeless, easy, elegant, and saves softening fruit from the brink.
• If you’ve got leftover stewed fruit, put it in a smoothie.
• For berries with lots of water content (raspberries, blackberries), you’ll need to add a couple teaspoons of corn starch to thicken it up for a sauce.
• This sauce was Wyatt’s idea this morning. I asked if they wanted blueberry pancakes or regular (wouldn’t you like to be a kid in this house? Sheesh.) and Wyatt said, “Why don’t you make blueberry sauce?”

Goodness. I had more to say than I thought I would. They were delicious. Loretta ate them with her shirt off.

Buttermilk Pancakes with Blueberry Sauce

Makes about 12 medium pancakes. This recipe is almost identical to the base of this one, except I’ve started adding melted butter to the batter. &%$!! If you’re going to eat pancakes, you might as well really eat them. And, if you sub raspberries or blackberries for the sauce, make sure to add 2 tsp. corn starch before you simmer it so the berries thicken up.

1 1/2 c. flour
pinch salt
1 Tb. suguar
1 Tb. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
2 eggs
1 1/2 c. buttermilk
3 Tb. melted butter, cooled

Combine all dry ingredients in a medium bowl. In a smaller bowl, whisk eggs and buttermilk together. Add buttermilk mixture and butter to dry ingredients, gently stir just until combined, leaving some lumps, and let batter sit for 10 minutes. Melt a bit of butter in a cast iron skillet, heat over medium heat until gently foaming, and make pancakes whatever size you want them. Flip them when bubbles are forming.

For blueberry sauce: In a small saucepan, combine 2 c. blueberries with 1/4 c. sugar and a splash of water. Cook on medium high until blueberries are bursting and forming a sauce, about 5-7 minutes. Stir frequently. You can mash up the blueberries with the back of your spoon if you’re impatient.