If you are anything like me, you have a drawer or cupboard or countertop or darn near entire bookshelf that looks something like this:



Devoted entirely to cookbooks. (For the record, mine are squirreled away in various boxes, cupboards, and piles of organized chaos. And, no, I have not yet amassed the collection quite as pictured. But I am well on my way.)

Now, if you have actually opened said cookbooks and done more than just salivate over the, well, salivatingly beautiful pictures inside, you may have discovered that some recipes are better than others. In fact, you may have discovered that some cookbooks are better than others. If you have not made this discovery yet, well, 1) some day you will, and 2) you're welcome.

Some years ago, when I was a kitchen newbie (read: did nothing but sat on my tuchus eating bonbons all day) and complaining about my baffling lack of prowess in the kitchen, a friend once told me I was using the "wrong" cookbooks. In other words: it is not your fault if you fail in the kitchen. (Well, maybe that's being a bit generous... But I'll give us all the benefit of the doubt. Keep reading. Please. There is eventually some worthwhile content.)

For all of you who have experienced such complete and total dejection as accompanies a failed recipe, I give you this:



50 Great Curries of India by Camellia Panjabi. This is definitely one of the "right" cookbooks. The recipes are authentic, and she includes an array of homestyle cooking and restaurant dishes from across India. In addition to curries, you will see recipes for various rice dishes, vegetables, fruits, breads, and desserts. The entire first portion of the book is devoted to ingredients and all of their permutations - spices, (powdered, whole, dried, fresh), rices, etc. Tips about how to create a complete meal, what to drink, typical accompaniments, and serving suggestions are all provided.

One of the biggest reasons this cookbook succeeds is the clear, detailed writing. Instructions are precise, and if you trust the author and her recipes (as in, don't second-guess why she's adding what she is, and don't think you can go off and tweak the recipe because, well, you just know better), you will be rewarded with a delectable variety of dishes and the experience and confidence to create more on your own. You will also begin to get a feel for good Indian cooking, and thus can better assess a potential recipe (or tweak it as you make it, because now you really will know better!).

One drawback: the recipes are a bit "involved." Especially for the first-time cook, I recommend minimizing other distractions and having all of your ingredients at hand. (Don't let that scare you! Just be prepared to have to add things 2 or 3 or 4 separate times instead of just dumping it all in a pot at once, e.g.)

Thus far I have made: Rogan Josh, Lamb Korma Pilaf (or what is almost biryani - ha, can you believe there is a Wiki page for biryani? Awesome.) , Meat Curry with Cumin-Flavored Potatoes, Green Chicken Korma (chicken rizzala), and assorted other entrees and sides. Coming soon: CHICKEN MAKHANI. For those of you who don't know what makhani is, it = BUTTER HEAVEN. I am salivating already - and I'm not even looking at the picture!

As I mentioned previously*, Fruit Loop takes swimming lessons. The program, the Chicago Swim School, is based on the Starfish Swim School curriculum. Children are taught foundational skills from the beginning, and build progressively upon that as they graduate through each level. I am really impressed with this program. The instructors are, for the most part, very experienced and knowledgeable, and the program is designed to be both fun and work.

Fruit Loop is currently in the Red level - the 2nd level, for children who have demonstrated an ability to float and be comfortable in the water. Red is notoriously hard. UGH. It's a big leap from the first level, White, to graduating from Red. Students must be able to submerge and float up, roll from front to back and float, and - the real kicker - jump in and come up to float on their backs all by themselves. (You laugh, sure, but for little 3 year olds - especially those who sink like a stone, thankyouverymuchHottieMcHots'sgenetics - it is WORK!)

With the first two skills, a ribbon (of the color matching the level with which that skill is a benchmark) is awarded. Upon completion of the final, culminatory (probably not a real word) skill, the child earns a patch for that color and has officially graduated to the next level.

So yeah. The Red level and I were quickly approaching not-speaking terms. Until! Today! HE DID IT!! Something done clicked in the fruit loop's brain, and he done did it! Now he just has to show his teacher it wasn't a fluke by giving a repeat performance at his class next week, and he'll have passed out of the Red level!

We have been in the Red level for over. a. year. That realization right there makes me want to tear my hair out. You have no idea.

(Unless, of course, you are a fellow parent whose child is enrolled in Starfish-based swim lessons and IS CURRENTLY IN RED LEVEL HELL.)

(I kid. It's not REALLY Hell. Duh. It's just long and arduous and NEVERENDING MISERY AFTER THIS LONG.)

(Of course, it's only really misery for the parents. The kids could care less. "Why, sure, Mom, I'd LOVE to go to swimming and spend the whole time splashing, talking/fighting with the other kids, doing things my way because I - at 3 or 4 years old - totally know way more about this stuff than any old teacher could tell me.")

(Not that Fruit Loop fights with the other kids. Though he does have permission to hit a kid if the kid hits him first. But that's a whole 'nother post.)

Anyway. Point. (There is one, I assure you.) Fruit Loop is this close to earning his Red patch! This has been a long time coming, and he totally deserves it. After all of his hard work, I am so proud of him. Yay, Fruit Loop!!




*I considered rubbing it in again: to all you yuppity-duppity moms out there, MY SON IS NOT IN PRESCHOOL!! (<-- said with much glee) Instead of preschool (read: daycare), he does fun, wholesome, well-rounded things. Like swimming! Art class! Soccer! Kumon! But that makes me seem like I'm anti-establishment or anti-yuppy-ism or a hater or whatever. Which I'm totally not. (In fact, see several of those activities = definition of yuppy or overprivileged or whatever you want to call it.) And, yes, I realize preschools typically put together a number of programs designed to produce well-rounded, socially competent children. I just enjoy the decision to remove myself and my family from the rat race that is parenting in these times of strollers that cost more than many people's monthly income.

...And yet, I still like me them strollers. Argh.

If you're not familiar with the Kumon program/philosophy, take a quick looksee here. It's basically a math and reading preparedness program for young kids (3 and up), and evolves into extra study for students who are behind, needing to stay afloat, or wanting to get ahead (elementary, junior high, high school). Students visit the Kumon center 2x/week, do approx. 30' work per subject, and have homework remaining days of the week. There is a master system with appropriate times to complete work and percentage of errors that calculates in what level a student belongs.

Fruit Loop started Kumon shortly after his 3rd birthday. Within 6 months, he was moving through addition tables and reading. Great! Wonderful! But, oh, it was worse than pulling teeth to get him to do his daily homework by the end of it. He and I were both at our limit. (Here is your first - and certainly not last, I am sure - example of why I could never homeschool my kids. Less than ten math problems a day, less than 6 sentences of reading, and the Fruit Loop and I were soooo not on speaking terms after just that.) So we took a break from formal classes to instead occasionally work on our own. I'm sure that has slowed his progress, but:

I. Am. Amazed. He's mentally maturing enough to recognize math problems and words, to reliably interchange a word that he's sounded out almost but not quite right for what it "really" is. It's like I can almost see, in just a few short weeks, his brain growing and nimbly grasping where before it was much more laboriously "plug and chug".

Everyone asks if Fruit Loop is in school. After the medical school disaster and time he spent in day care during that, after visiting a few preschool programs and seeing simply "glorified daycare," Hottie McHots and I decided we'd make better use of these early years in Fruit Loop's life by structuring our own schedule for him = better than preschool! (*Gasp!* Yeah, I said it. Take that, all you hoity-toity $800 Stroller Moms.) We fill his time with activities (swimming, soccer, art class) and learning. Kumon has been HUGE in that. It's intellectually challenging but NOT pushy or overwhelming - you work at the kid's pace.

Anyway, the roundabout points I'm trying to make are: Kumon is everything it's cracked up to be (as long as you get good teachers and a well-run center, which usually seems to be the case and, regardless, is easily identifiable from the get-go), and I am so proud and impressed by the fruit loop's work. And he is proud of himself, too, as he should be.

Tried Tazo Tea's Vanilla Rooibos tea latte concentrate tonight. (No, NOT from Starbucks, Land of Burnt Tar Coffee. This was courtesy of a trip to and coupon @ Whole Foods. Yay!)

The verdict?

Grrrrreat! I am a fan of frou-frouey drinks, but there's more to it than that: this is a light, caffeine-free tea that is perfect before bed. Mix it with your favorite milk or milk substitute. You don't need to add sugar - the vanilla is sweet enough.

I don't have much more to say than that. I'm a sucker for new things, and am usually sorely disappointed, (because I get my hopes up too high? Or because the item is so underwhelming and, often, regrettable? I think the latter...). But this? No disappointment!

At some point in the future I will try posting my own Chai Latte recipe. (Or Masala Tea, Chai, Desi Tea, etc., etc., etc. Call it what you want, it's gooooooooood.)

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present to you: The Eight Dollar Pear. Note the sale price turns your putative Eight Dollar Pear into a Paltry Five Dollar Pear. However, I ask you this: When have you EVER had even a Five Dollar Pear? You see my point.

From all reports, these Harry & David pears are just, like, the bee's knees. Commonly called "the best pears I/she/he/we've ever had," I am impressed by the advertising alone - I mean, can YOU cut a pear like that? And then take a picture with a perfect drop of sweet, pear-juicy nectar poised tantalizingly on the edge of the spoon? (Go ahead, wipe the drool off of your keyboard, I'll wait.)

So. We're toying with the idea of becoming Harry & David Fruit-of-the-Month Clubbers. And most of the options are on sale now, 20% off. (THAT, my friends, is a whole 'nother post - The Thrill of the Sale.) My boys all have great appetites, and actually enjoy healthy, real food! Compared to the average American's diet, I'd say we are leaps and bounds ahead with regards to fruit and vegetable consumption. Yay! So a fruit of the month club would certainly not go to waste, I don't think.

However, not sure I'm willing to spring for an Eight Five Dollar Pear. Not that I don't like to dream big or anything, I'm just a little scared of such colossal fruit. Can you imagine, though? It'd be an event all unto itself.

Me: "Remember, honey, tonight is Pear Night!"
Hottie McHots: "Darn tootin'! I can't wait!"
Fruit Loop: "Gee whiz, Ma, do we have to wait 'til tonight? C'mon!"
Cracker Jack: "A-ba-ba. Ba. AAAAAAAAAIEEEEEEEE!"

First: I smell tasty. (Per Hottie McHots. Hubba hubba!)

Second: If you are sensing a couple of recurring themes after reading this post, you would be correct: food in general and Indian/Pakistani food in particular play big roles in my life.

That being said, here is why I smell so delectable:

Sabri Nihari. ("Sub-ree Nee-har-ee.") If you ever come to Chicago, you must eat here. Conversely, if you ever want good Indian/Pakistani food, you must eat here. The kitchen has got to be run by elves who sprinkle magic tasty dust into everything, because every dish is phenomenal. Authentic recipes, real heat, and FAST service. I can't say enough good things about this place.

I highly HIGHLY recommend the frontier chicken (I have yet to find and make my own), the nihari (a wonderful beef shank braised in the smoothest beef gravy EVER), and the chicken makhani (butter chicken that is as its name implies - except they left out the "butter heaven" part).

So, anyway, Hottie McHots and I hit up Sabri Nihari for date night tonight. We order several things, and our table is covered with a delicious, savory, satisfying array of food. Our conversation follows:

Hottie McHots: "What would you like first?"
Me: "I want to breathe. It warms my soul." (If there exists such a thing as voracious inhaling, that was what I proceeded to do.)
Hottie McHots: (digging in, referencing an earlier conversation) "Ugh, there's so much stress-"
Me: "Breathe! Warm your soul!"

It's that good.

Target is quite nearly one of my favorite places to waste time, spend money, and bask in aisle after aisle of shameless relatively economical consumerism. I do grocery shopping there, pick up household essentials, dabble in apparel basics (pj's, undershirts and drawers for the boys, socks, etc.), and am a sucker for anything they offer that's new! exciting! better than anything else we have for whatever one particular need you're looking to meet! or a need that you didn't even know you had!!

However. HowEVer. I am no longer venturing into store brand territory. Let me backtrack. I am not a brand-ist. I am in no way an elitist when it comes to who makes whatever I choose to buy. Rather, I let performance dictate where my money goes. And, based solely on performance, Target's Up and Up* brand of products is becoming a last resort.

Let's see: a random sampling of Target brand products.
Baby food - This tops the list as NOT interchangeable w/ typical name brand manufacturers, (i.e., Gerber). The consistency is MUCH more runny, and I suspect the quality of fruits used is inferior to that in branded baby food.

Baby lotion (zinc oxide ointment, e.g.) - Again, loses out to branded ointment, (i.e., Desitin). Not only is the consistency far too thick and gloppy, the Target brand contains less active ingredient (zinc oxide) than typical Desitin = Desitin is a better buy, both for performance and economy (since you'll see smashing results w/ less product).

Pregnancy tests - Personally, these have been okay. However, friends have discovered a higher-than-expected incidence of false positives, especially if the tests are months and months old. Maybe my expectations are too high and the number of false positives falls w/in an average range, but... Sorry, no, I don't need that kind of excitement.

Ziploc-type bags - Adequate. Perhaps household items that are less distinguishable by performance are still okay...

Napkins - Cheap, but again adequate.

At this point, I'm turned off enough to probably not try anything else by the Target brand unless it's all that's available and I absolutely need it...

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In addition to these little branding shenanigans, WHAT is the DEAL w/ day-after candy?? I mean, not like I totally watch the calendar and plan a trip to Target AS SOON AS THEY OPEN the day after a major holiday, but c'm'on! Where they used to automatically go 50% or more off of holiday items, it's now a measly 15-30%. I mean, part of the fun is getting a great deal, and now I can't even enjoy that. It's like saying "I went shopping and got this great dress, and it was a steal!" But now, if you went shopping at Target, you'd be saying "I got this great top and half a sleeve to a dress, and just ignore those unfinished seams, and there is still some hemming to do, but it was a pretty good deal..." Well, not really like that. But yes, kind of like that. GIVE ME BACK MY RIDICULOUSLY DISCOUNTED CANDY, TARGET!!

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*Prior to the Up and Up brand, the traditional Target brand items seemed fine! I hate when companies take over stuff and then proceed to change everything about it until it's inferior and unrecognizable. Like Electrasol. ARGH. (For the record, Cascade is WAY BETTER. Take THAT, Finish dishwasher detergent!)