Today was the younger set of children’s first day of school. I have a few pics that their father sent but no details yet. For the first time ever, I won’t see them at all on the first day. I have been trying not to think about that, after all I have them the rest of the first week of school. (YAY!)

First day of school always brings out the June Cleaver brain in me though. I always wanted that mythical milk and cookies after school but for some reason, my mother never baked on the first day of school. Hmmm wonder why that was…oh perhaps the other million things stay at home moms do on the first day of school?

In any case, I would like to pretend that had we had a “normal” first day of school (and believe me, this wouldn’t have happened even IF they were to come here right after school, even if some time machine made us the “normal” type of family) I would have made cookies for the first day.

Chocolate chip cookies because my youngest likes them best. We confusingly (to her) call them Toll House cookies at this house. She started middle school today. My tiny baby that I am sure I could still pop into the sling and wear all day started MIDDLE SCHOOL. Yes, I knew it was coming. But, I am the mother of toddlers and a few teenagers, not mom to a tween, some teens and young adults. How did that happen?

In any case, in honor of the youngest today, her favorite:

Nestle Toll House Cookies AKA Chocolate Chip Cookies

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup butter, softened (actually, I use stick margarine)
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
1 bag (12-oz. pkg.) Toll House Semi-Sweet Chocolate Morsels

Cream the butter and sugar. Add the eggs and vanilla. Then add dry ingredients. Mix until well blended. Drop spoon fulls on ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 9-11 minutes at 375. Let cool a tiny bit- a minute or two- before moving to wire rack. Tell children to watch fingers and not put into their mouth before cooling enough so they don’t roast their tongues on molten chocolate chip. Serve with milk.

Now, if it isn’t the first day of school, you can put the dough in a 9 x 13 pan and bake 20-25 minutes and have the much preferred BAR cookie. Ok, boy child and I (and every other sane parent who doesn’t live in a kitchen to do that 10 minute cookie dance) prefer bar cookies.

Last week I made pickles. I have done this before. I have even used the recipe I used before. This time they didn’t turn out well. The cucumbers were sliced too thin. The acid too high for the thinness. I was being lazy in using the crock method. I didn’t have jars or nearly the time to pickle properly. Yes, something I should have considered before buying the box of pickling cucumbers but they were a good deal. Or were…until I messed them up. They lay in wait in the fridge while I consider whether there is something to rescue them, but I think not.

That doesn’t mean that Stocking Up, my not retro but 1990s preserving cookbook is not still my favorite. I just should have followed directions better.

Does anyone else not follow a recipe exactly and then realize later there was a reason it was done in such a way?

My children have a dish they all generally agree on. My love likes it. My mother likes it. Spare children at our house for dinner love it. I don’t. I will eat it if starved. Maybe.

This recipe came into being once upon a time when I did think I loved it. You see there was a deli that we would stop at after high school. Not really a high school sort of deli but it is where we could get a meatball sub…or their specialty. Oh who knows what they called it at that point. It was pasta, Italian red sauce and cheddar cheese. Probably called “Lets sell our leftover cheese rinds and splash of sauce and few extra noodles under a name like Macaroni and Cheese.” I loved it.

I would think about it now and then but it wasn’t really until I had three kids under 5 or then 6 or so kids under 17 wandering about that it became part of my dinner repertoire. It had no name. It had-Easy, Cheap, kid-friendly, pantry ingredients going for it. This is the dish my big kids request along with Eggs Benedict when they come to visit. This is the dish the youngest will reliably eat every time. This is as they named it…Mommy’s Specialty. Yes, I am embarrassed to admit that my specialty has nothing unprocessed in it. Nothing. Not one thing. I might even find shame in the fact that this was served weekly for a long period of time. But, it is also the dish my kids wanted me to make for them when we visited them in England. It is the dish that makes them smile.

So, I bet you want to know how to make this awesome meal?

Boil a box of penne pasta or rigatoni. I do use a whole grain type these days…most of the time. Drain pasta. While pasta is draining pour a bottle of Ragu Traditional (the odd smooth one) in the pasta pot. (Transparency: Ragu was at BlogHer, but I babbled at THEM about my specialty. (The Ragu folk looked at me like I was vaguely insane.) I also have bought probably 35 bottles of Ragu a year for the last decade and don’t think I have gotten any free unless you count a buy one get one deal at the supermarket. ) No other sauce is the right one for specialty in my family’s eyes. 8 or 9 years ago I tried to use different sauces…the rebellion was imminent. Your family MAY be willing to experiment with other brands. Go for it. I won’t again unless I really can’t make the jump from generic to brand name pricing. ) Add shredded cheddar cheese. Yes, I use the pre-shredded…a whole bag. The regular size (2 cup?) bag not the giant bag. Dump drained pasta back in and stir. Turn stove off right away. If you have an electric stove-remove from burner completely unless you really like scrubbing the pot.

As for wild and crazy-tonight I put some frozen meatballs into bake while pasta cooked and added them to the sauce, right before adding the cheese. Some members of the family weren’t sure about Wild and Crazy Specialty. Others liked it quite a bit.

One and One make 11 or so the riddle you loved for a time went.  Today you turned 11.

11 years and a day ago I made Jim Bars for the nursing staff that would be helping bring you into the world. Two weeks late and nary a budge toward labor, though your gymnastics made up for that lack of movement. You see, I knew I was going to have you that day. The doctor had set the date for eviction proceedings. This meant a lot of tubes and medical equipment I wasn’t too happy about (and neither were you for that matter) and I was pretty much tied to the bed or the chair next to the bed while in labor with you. So, of course the tv was on. Unfortunately, the news was all about Monica Lewinsky and Bill Clinton that day, his taped testimony, his improper relationship, riveting I suppose if you weren’t waiting for your very own special news. Strangely television didn’t cover my labor with you. I did have a laptop then. I had a flame war on one of my boards that I tended at that time for Parent Soup. It seemed a good enough way to spend that waiting time for a while. Eventually though that was left behind as well. It kept me distracted for those last hours before you were born though. Distracted from wondering how your siblings were doing. (Though immediately after you were born, I posted to my boards and emailed everyone I knew-No Twitter then)

But, then you came along and have distracted me ever since. You were the baby who nursed for a long time. You were the baby who didn’t nap and as I told your sister the other night, I am not 100% sure that you have yet to sleep through the night. You bounce, you cuddle, you smile, you love. You my tiniest child, my baby are growing up and surprise me each and every day. At the end of the month you start middle school. I am quite sure that it was only yesterday I was prising you off to have mommy and me time one morning a week.

Even now though you are my special fairy child. Sometimes a bird like eater–but not today. Today you had Krispy Kremes for breakfast. You chose Eggs Benedict for dinner.

For cake though you had an extra special request-made weeks ago-that I make it and I make a “normal” cake. Other moms might have been confused. I wasn’t. You see, my mother made cakes from scratch, when I desired a box cake like the other kids.

So, you had your “normal chocolate cake”, no icing, just a sprinkling of powdered sugar. You will eat some frosting now but you still dislike frosting. Years of thinking around this problem has created quite the number of innovations for school cupcakes. It has been a long time since I baked a cake for your birthday, not cupcakes, not getting an ice cream cake or a slice at a restaurant. I loved making that cake today. For you, my youngest, my piece of my heart that is wild and free.

And besides love…here is how I made your “normal cake”

Elizabeth’s Chocolate Birthday Cake

1 box chocolate cake mix
1 large box instant chocolate pudding
4 eggs
3/4 cup water
1 cup sour cream
1/2 cup oil

Mix on low until blended. Mix at a higher speed until it turns a lighter color. Then pour into a well greased bundt pan and bake for 45 minutes or until done. Let rest a moment or two then turn onto plate. Dust with powdered sugar.

Yes indeed, today is Kool-Aid day. How do I know? The same way I know all holidays…brilliance. No. No. No. My long-time favorite site Brownielocks told me. Really. I have used Brownielocks since the beginning of Internet time it seems. No ads, no spam, no newsletter, no huge changes since 1999 or so. Really. I love that site.

In any case, the late days of summer as we count down to my birthday make me think of Kool-Aid anyway. In fact, they make me think of the time I had a bunch of neighborhood kids over. There really couldn’t have been more than 6 of us but it felt like a bunch. I was the oldest of our age group. There were older teens in our neighborhood but no one just my age. There were some between my age and my sister’s age and then some younger kids. We ran like heathens through the woods behind our houses, climbing fences. (forbidden, but we did it).

Home by the time the streetlights came on. Home without one of the many eyes on the street calling our mothers about our spats, misbehavior, crushed flower beds or wild yelling through the neighborhood.

I had the swingset, the hill, and a lot with trees.

S. had the sugar cereal, the best sandbox in the neighborhood and the chain-smoking mom and mudroom. (And as I started to tell this story, I realized that this memory was one of the good ones before S. moved. Before that birthday slumber party at her house where her father made perfect god-like pancakes (round! not burned! Just like McDonalds. The nirvana of my pancake world at that point) and had given S. a horse because their new house allowed for a horse.  I freaked out about him driving us home from their new place to our house. I sat between him and my younger sister to protect her. From what I am not sure I knew then. About 6 years later he went to jail for things that made every decent adult want to puke. I do remember getting out of the truck and complaining to my mother that she or my father hadn’t come to pick us up and we had to ride all that way with HIM. (and then proceeding to tell my mother the many ways her pancakes didn’t measure up to S’s father) We never went back to see her. I saw her once at the local children’s clothing store after that and once when she was a pregnant teen mom. I didn’t like it either time, though through the lens of a grown up it wasn’t that it was her fault that I was uncomfortable. )

The other kids in the group were M and M. They had a great tree house, a German Shepherd that you had to love, and a mom who was a potter and a father with a train set I still envy and a room full of guns. Not always locked.  I always sensed we would get in more trouble for playing with the trains than the guns but since their father was a fed sort of guy, we didn’t dare.  The older M introduced me to all sorts of things boy.  The younger M died very young and knocked everyone’s heart out.

In any case, I was sort of a rag-tag leader at times unless S’s older brother deigned to join in. One hot day when we complained that drinking from the hose was getting old and our mothers had all banished us outside, I got permission (or maybe not) to make Kool-aid. Outside. I slipped the pitcher and the packet of Kool-aid and a shy cup of sugar outside. Then started the hose. The result was my mother coming outside to see why the hose was still running. “I was just making us Kool-Aid”

Commence southern mother ranting about “enough water to float a battleship.”  Kool-Aid making was off limits for quite some time. But, I did go through periods where I made Kool-Aid popsicles and of course, my own slightly more grown up Kool-Aid.

My mother though made the best Kool-Aid on the block. It wasn’t until I was almost grown that I found out she didn’t follow the instructions on the packet. She used 3/4 cup of sugar and a splash of bottled lemon juice. I make it that way now. Or I would. I don’t remember the last time I bought Kool-Aid for anything besides child’s temporary hair dye. But now that it is Kool Aid day and tomorrow is grocery store day, I think a packet of Kool-Aid…preferably green…is on the list. It is summer. It is frugal. And to cheat children out of bright colors and summer memories in the name of all natural? One pitcher won’t hurt.

My kitchen is full of noise today. I set the 13 yo to making Oatmeal Banana Bread. Youngest joined in with brownies. Snickerdoodles are allegedly in the making for the nursing home bake sale. In the midst of normal baking mess, about a pound of rice out of a 5 lb bag spilled on the counters and floor. None of this has been quiet. Some members of the family have found it nerve-wracking.

But me? It is a joyful noise. A noise of kids at home in the kitchen. The noise of the waning days of summer. And despite the distraction as we try to work…I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Pretend I posted a nice retro recipe here today. I really would but we had a decidedly un-retro dinner–cucumber dumplings, sushi rice, Vietnamese Spring Rolls, veggie potstickers, sesame noodles. Now all of those are retro somewhere I am sure but aren’t here. Interestingly after being the sole eater of cold sesame noodles for year, the 13 yo has joined me in the fetish for them.

No recipe for sesame noodles really. Cook pasta of choice-whole grain spaghetti works well, as does leftover rice noodles, soba noodles, etc. Toss with sesame oil, a bit of rice wine vinegar, a dollop of peanut butter, a bit of garlic, toasted sesame seeds,  some red pepper flakes or Rooster sauce, you can throw in a jar of drained pimentos or some chopped green onions. Both are nice.

In any case, if you would like to hear me ramble about talking to teens or would like to win $200.00…then go over to my brand new review blog, read more about my teens and nefarious plots to get them to talk. One of which is of course, making them kitchen grunt.

In my post on recipes and love songs,(you know the one, the keynote, you can see everyone and not just mine here at Blogher) I mentioned a fudge pie. I have meant to post it for quite some time (and now related posts has reminded me that the fudge pie is indeed here on this blog already.) and to introduce my children to the joys of drowning sorrows in chocolate…in that particular familial chocolate. Yes, I know, eating disorders, emotional eating and whatever. It also is about mommies and love and distraction. I just haven’t been able to put my fingers on it. Yes, I know where it is approximately, maybe. But, coming up with it has proved elusive. Maybe the right teen crisis hasn’t occurred? Or maybe it is that it wanted to elude my own stress.

In any case, my sister with her almost brand new blog, had a crisis. Like me, she keeps busy when worried. So, what does she think of? Well among other things, Fudge Pie.

Note: If you are out of unsweetened baking chocolate, you can use the oil/cocoa substitution.

But, really, the recipe cures many a woe or lightens it. Magic. Especially when shared.

We had hummus tonight for dinner. From a can. Don’t ask. Ok, do. We had hummus in a can and baba ghanoush from a can and grape leaves from a can. All bought in a strange trip to Produce World on the spur of the moment. It seemed like a good idea at the time but by the time we got home it wasn’t in the cards for dinner. Then it has sat in the cupboard like another Tarrant Weird Food Orphan (TM). Tonight for dinner I was shopping the cupboards and decided it was time for Greek Dinner from a can. It was not horrible. Really. But, I have higher standards for hummus.

My hummus experience started with a Tofu Hummus brought to grad school parties from a place that seems to be no longer in existence in Madison, WI-Magic Mill. It appears that it has been turned into a Whole Foods of all things. Oh well, it had been 14 or so years since I last had been in Madison so some things can change. However, I was a hummus addict by the time we left Madison. I figured out before we left Madison that the secret ingredient in the Magic Mills Hummus was tofu. That was what made it so creamy and delicious.

So…on nights when we don’t have hummus from a can or that quite good hummus that just changed their overblown packaging, I make hummus. Or dream of making hummus. This is how I do it:

Tofu Hummus

1 lb tofu (silken/soft/medium works best-save the firm for something else)
2 cans garbanzo beans drained and rinsed
1/4 cup tahini or cheat with a couple tablespoons of peanut butter and some toasted sesame oil
2-3 tablespoons olive oil
Juice of 2 lemons
A generous tablespoon or two of garlic

If you are lucky enough to have a food processor (I don’t), you can throw it all in the food processor at once. If not..start with the tofu, oil, lemon juice and garlic. Whir that together well in blender. Then slowly add garbanzo beans and maybe a bit of water or more oil.

If your blender or vita-mix dies during this process, throw it at that point into your mixer and cream it together. Throw the mixture, not the blender or Vita-Mix. Yes. This happened to me. Yes. I was crushed. I still am crushed. I dream of the day Vita-Mix sends me a free replacement just because I loved it so very, very, very much. There is a Vita-Mix fairy isn’t there? *sigh* I know. The Vita-Mix was replaced by a little retro Oster blender that I like to look at but really um, isn’t much of a blender. You can also do it the old fashioned way and mash by hand, but I love the super smooth creaminess that can be achieved by mechanical means.

Then use the hummus with oh fresh Italian bread or pita or crackers or spoon (I didn’t just say that spoon part…ok I did…but I do love the stuff) or however you like to eat your hummus.

I thought of writing about debt and shopping from my pantry. We will be doing a lot of that over the next few months. It all feels a bit mind-numbing at this point. That anxiety about money eats at me. I am trying hard to remember that money comes to me when I need it and that things are so much worse for others. Right now though it is hard.

In the search for something frugal to make our pantry look like good eating…I ran across this recipe that I love for blue cheese dressing. No, it isn’t fat friendly or healthy or cheap or anything else, but it makes me happy to daydream about it gracing a salad or adding a bit of zip to a sandwich. Warning: it makes other Blue cheese dressing, particularly that stuff in jars, taste way wrong. In other words, your standards for blue cheese dressing will go way, way up.

From my great-grandmother’s recipe cards:

Sour Cream Blue Cheese Dressing

yield: 1 1/2 cups

1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese
1/2 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
1 tablespoon finely chopped onion
Few drops of Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 cup sour cream

Blend all ingredients except sour cream in bowl, mixing well. Fold in sour cream. Chill thoroughly before serving.