Kate in the Kitchen

pancakes for an ordinary day

March 16th, 2011 | 5 Comments »

Little that’s gone on lately has been ordinary, especially in other parts of the world. I’ve watched a few videos, scanned the headlines and saw a few photos, but for the most part, I’ve stayed far, far away from immersing myself in the news coverage of what’s gone on in Japan. I’m not posting on Facebook about it; I don’t tweet, or retweet about it. And quite frankly, if you want to call me insensitive, go ahead. That’s your right. Just remember that it’s my right too, to decide how I deal with it. And this is how I manage it, because the last time I was soaked in a tragedy, it ended up being stuck with me for the rest of my life.

Back when the world seemed a lot less harsh, I woke on a gorgeous September morning in Las Vegas, ready to spend my day at an International Baking Convention. I was the office manager for a large wholesale bakery in the Cities, and was there to check out new equipment, new software, and new procedures, and I never got the chance. Because that morning was the 11th, in 2001. And we all know what happened then. I watched the entire horror play out on television, right in front of me. I watched bodies plummet through the sky; I watched people on the streets, staring in terror. I watched those towers fall and I cried my eyes out. The country fell apart before my eyes, and I was stranded thousands of miles from home. Everywhere I went for the next six days until I returned home, it was like the tragedy was embedded in my skin, my ears, my eyes. It was all everyone talked about. It was on every television, in every podunk spot that the car stopped as I made my way home, across the gorgeous country amidst the worst times in recent memory. Yes, my boss and I drove home from Nevada; it took 2-1/2 days. We drove through the mountains of the West, through Utah and Colorado and were surrounded by stunning vistas while the sorrow poured out of the radio. A pall had settled on the nation and every gas station, every coffee shop, every tiny diner along the way were full of grim faces and tears. It’s been 10 years since that all happened and I still can see every detail; I can still feel my stomach sinking in agony, like it did that morning while I watched, unable to tear my eyes away. If I catch a glimpse of the clock, and it happens to read 9:11, I can’t get away from the image it leaves with me. And I can’t fill my head, again, with such sorrow.

I’m a sponge; I absorb my surroundings and it gets under my skin to stay with me. And it isn’t just events. It’s people, it’s daily situations, it’s the crabby strangers in passing, the nasty drivers on the road. Negativity can easily fill me up and just as easily take me down. I need to protect myself from drowning in it and so I simply turn away. It’s isn’t that I don’t care. The problem is that I care too much and me, this tiny individual, can’t offer much more than a solitary prayer of compassion. My repetitive tweets won’t do anyone any good; yet another posting on yet another heart-wrenching video won’t do anything. There are plenty of people to spread the news, and I just turn and walk away because to do otherwise would be more images seared in my brain that will stick with me forever. I can’t do that to myself. It’s bad enough that in the darkness I sometimes still see a burning skyscraper, and bodies falling through the smoke. After 10 years you’d think they would fade, but they haven’t. Even the few images of the destruction in Japan won’t replace the shocking pictures of that gorgeous September morning. In fact, they’ve joined them. And that’s not something I need.

So I made pancakes.

Because I needed to feel ordinary and plain, to have something of a constant come up during a time that is now written indelibly in the history books. And for me, it was Pancakes. And not just any Pancakes; these were Wheat Crumb Pancakes, made with fresh bread crumbs as the base. It was odd, to say the least, and maybe not exactly what I would reach for to try and raise some ordinary sense to my day, but it worked. Strangely enough.

The recipe came from Marion Cunningham’s The Breakfast Book. I picked this book up at a used book store many years ago, and it languished in my cookbook cupboard for a long time. I glanced at it once or twice, but never really absorbed it, and last year in a book purge, I almost added it to the boxes I was giving away. But something made me leave it on the shelf and I’m so glad I did because what exists in those pages is a treasure trove of simple, hearty, wholesome and flavorful breakfast recipes, and everyone I’ve tried has been delicious. These Wheat Crumb Pancakes were amazing; fluffy and light and so flavorful. I added some texture to them by tossing finely chopped honey-roasted peanuts into the batter, and replacing some of the liquid with pureed mango and peaches. They cook up thick and hearty, and beg for a dousing of maple syrup. A plate of them set my emotions and grounded me, just as I had hoped they would.

Wheat Crumb Pancakes

1-1/2 c. fresh wheat bread crumbs
1-1/2 c. buttermilk
2 T. butter
1/2 c. whole wheat flour
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2 t. baking powder
1/2 t. salt

Place bread crumbs in a large bowl. Heat milk and butter in small saucepan until butter is melted and milk is hot. Pour over bread crumbs and let stand for 5-10 minutes, stirring to fully combine.

Add flour, eggs, baking powder and salt to bread crumb mix. Fold together until just mixed and let stand for a few minutes. Cook pancakes on stovetop, or an electric skillet. Top with maple syrup and butter, if desired, or toppings of choice.

From ‘The Breakfast Book’ by Marion Cunningham

NOTE: Fresh bread crumbs can be made from several slices of good quality whole wheat bread. Place them in a food processor and process until they’re the size of peas. Do not sub in dried bread crumbs, croutons or Panko. I like to keep a ziploc bag of fresh breads crumbs in the freezer. Any leftover bread gets processed and added to the bag. The crumbs are wonderful to have on hand for many uses in the kitchen.

More Pancake love from Kate’s Kitchen:

Whole Grain Pancakes

Oatmeal Pancakes

Pumpkin Pancakes with Winter Fruit Compote

Whole Wheat Banana Pancakes

Fresh Cherry Syrup

Fresh Blueberry Syrup

pushing through

April 25th, 2011 | 4 Comments »

Last Spring at this time, our perennial garden was full of glorious color. The tulips were opened….

The Creeping Phlox was a lovely carpet of purple…….

There were Johnny Jump Ups leaping up all around the garden beds.

And I had managed to keep the Prairie Smoke from being devoured by hungry critters.

Which, unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do this year. Somebunny devoured all the pink buds and leafy greens on these native plants. Ah well…..

We’re a lot further behind this year on the revival of the earth, it’s flowers and new grass. It’s almost May and the Star Magnolia bush, my harbinger of Spring, has yet to open even one of it’s gorgeous and fragrant flowers, although with current warm temps and sun, it’s reaching it’s fat buds to the sky and starting to come alive. This is possibly the latest in the year that it’s started it’s bloom, according to the garden journal I’ve kept since 2006. I love recording the rhythm of the seasons, the sightings of birds in the yard, when the migrations start and the seasonal visitors like Hummingbirds and Orioles return, the first (and last) snowfall, the last ice-out on the area lakes, the foxes, possums and creatures that roam the night time. It’s a wonderful way to keep track of the ebb and flow of the life outside our windows.

And everyone is impatient for Spring, for warm weather, for shedding the pants, shoes and sleeves to bare their skin to the sun. For me, more this year than any I’ve been really, really eager to see the bounty of the season begin. I’m craving all forms of green; vegetables, tender baby lettuces, spring spinach, asparagus….. you name it. It’s like I can hear my body complaining loudly about the lack of chlorophyll. Even my Teen said that he was craving a salad. So when Mike pulled some items together for dinner recently, he brought home a large amount of lettuces from the store. Since Farmers Market time is still a few weeks away, these greens will have to do. We washed them, and consumed large bowls of salad with our burgers and roasted potatoes. It was the first real meal I’d eaten all week due to my sickness. And it tasted glorious.

Just prior to getting ill, I came across kale at the grocers for $.99 a bunch. I haven’t been that adventurous with kale much, although for the life of me I can’t figure out why. I bought a large, deeply green bunch and it promptly languished in my crisper drawer due to the toxic onslaught I endured. A small handful went into a smoothie I tried to drink, the rest just sat. And kale doesn’t mind sitting too much, as it’s quite hearty. When I finally pulled it out, it looked no worse for the week it spent in my fridge, and it happily blended with scrambled eggs to make an awesome breakfast sandwich, then later, with quinoa and toasted pecans for this nutritiously rich and flavorful salad.

With finally climbing out of the ick and funk that settled on me last week, I really was feeling the need for some healthy options to start restoring my immune system and begin cleansing my body of the after-affects of a sinus/respiratory infection, especially the medications I took. What a perfect recipe for that, and so simple too. Cook quinoa, saute your kale with shallot and garlic, and toss it all together with a little salt and pepper. Add in toasted pecans, or pine nuts or almonds and get out your fork. There just doesn’t need to be anything more complicated than that.

Add in the weathered redwood stairs to our patio, and a cat languishing on the sunlit bricks, it made the small bowl I consumed taste a little bit like Spring. It was just what I was craving, for both body and mind.

Quinoa with Kale and Toasted Pecans

1 c. quinoa, rinsed and shaken well
4 c. loosely packed kale, chopped
1 small shallot, minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 c. pecans, or nut of choice, lightly toasted

Start by cooking your quinoa. It can sit in the pan for quite some time after it’s done. Heat 1-3/4 c. water or broth of choice on the stove. Add half a teaspoon of sea salt and a thin drizzle of olive oil. When the water boils rapidly, add the rinsed quinoa, stir quickly and reduce the heat, allowing the quinoa to simmer gently. Cover the pan and let cook for 15 minutes, or until the water is mostly absorbed. Keep covered and remove from heat. Allow to stand for at least 10 minutes.

In a large deep skillet (with a cover), saute the shallot and garlic in olive oil until soft and translucent. Add in the kale and toss to coat. Stir and toss the kale until it’s a deep emerald green and starting to look a bit shiny. Add a half cup water to the pan, cover it and reduce the heat to a bare simmer. Steam the kale, stirring occasionally, until it’s slightly wilted but still has some toothy bite, maybe 10 minutes or so.

Add the quinoa to the skillet with the kale and toss until uniform. Taste and season with more sea salt and fresh ground black pepper. Add in the toasted nuts and combine. Can be eaten warm, room temperature or chilled. Reheat gently in the microwave.

sick days and french silk pie

April 22nd, 2011 | 3 Comments »

It’s never convenient to get sick. Lots of people try the old ‘mind over matter’ thought process when they feel that scratchy throat come on, or the sniffles begin to build. I used to do that, but often I think that it makes it worse. While there are some ways to help ward off illnesses when they wage war on you, often the best defense is to realize that it likely has you beat, and to surrender.

So I surrendered this week when I felt the pain form in my throat and then move into my chest. I’m familiar with this type of respiratory illness, having been plagued with it my entire life. Thankfully, as I moved into a healthier way of living in the last 15 years or so, the severity of these illnesses is much less, and the frequency has dropped off too. I know, just by the symptoms, when I’m about to be dealt it’s blow. And this one couldn’t have come at a worst time.

For one thing, there was my son’s 17th birthday. And although I managed to make it through his celebratory dinner out, I felt horrible the entire time. My food tasted off, my head hurt and I just wanted to lay down and shut my eyes, waking up maybe, in a few days after the ickyness would pass. But, even through the ‘Blah’ that settled on me that day, I did manage to make his birthday requested French Silk Pie.

We like to treat birthdays with the consideration that nothing is off limits. And French Silk Pie was the gleam in his eye when I asked him what kind of cake he wanted. Even given the fact that I’d never made one from scratch, I agreed, because this is my boy, you know? There might not be that many more birthdays that he’s around to make a special request.

And muddling through the impending doom that was settling over my body, I churned out what has to be one of the best pies I’ve ever made. Then I promptly fell into an illness that left me shaking with fever, prone on the sofa, and unable to taste anything. Even if I could eat something, bringing forkfuls of rich chocolate pie to my mouth was just not going to happen. One bite and my stomach flipped over in protest. No rich foods! It called out to me. Soup! Eat Soup!

It’s been a long time since I’ve been that sick; that bone chilling, fevered sickness. I couldn’t sleep despite being exhausted. I couldn’t do anything like read a book or one of the magazines that are piling up on various surfaces around the house. I couldn’t summon up the energy to do much but flip over and over in bed, brushing the sweaty hair off my neck and forehead, and shaking with fever. But during the process of working this illness from my body, I began to think about it as some sort of transition I was going through. Lately I’ve felt really unmotivated in some areas of my life, this blog being one of them. I blame it solely on the transitional status of our weather, that strange flux state between winter and spring when you can’t stand the thought of one more heavy winter repast, yet the light refreshing springtime offerings aren’t quite ready to indulge in yet. My meals have lacked excitement, or creativity. I’ve submerged myself in throwing quick simple meals together, most often with a poached egg and some sort of vegetable like asparagus, or tiny new roasted potatoes and Griffin has made several delicious meals these past few weeks. But the food is consumed and the moment passes before I think ‘Hey I should have photographed that to blog about!’ but then, it’s done and gone.

And maybe my body knew this illness was coming, and began a sort of shutdown process ahead of time. The week that the illness fell was full of social activities and fun events, and being sick caused me to cancel out of every one of them. I don’t think I’d ever been more disappointed. But I couldn’t ignore this, nor could I have rose above it to go out anyway. So this purging through fever and downtime might be thought of as a motivator. Goodness knows I’ve got a stack of workable recipes, waiting to be turned into blog posts just looking for the time, energy and verve to work through; current food magazines are brimming with ideas, beautiful recipes and fresh means to explore the bounty of Springtime. We’re still waiting for the nice weather to arrive and stick around, and every chilly day that brings yet another coating of fluffy wet snow makes it feel like some drawn out joke on us poor Minnesotans. So I accepted the illness, and the shutting down of my life and plans, letting Mike care for me, bring me soup, do the laundry and refill my water glass. He’s pretty amazing that way, and after nearly 10 years together, I’m still floored at how blessed I am to have someone who takes such good care of me when I’m sick. He makes it easy to just stop my life, and recover.

But…… there was that pie too.

It was delectably rich; creamy, fudgey and delicious. My guys were in heaven, and watching them consume their slices, topped with fresh whipped cream, was pure bliss. Even in my fevered state. I tried a piece when I started to feel better and was amazed at it’s creaminess, the intense chocolate flavor. But still, it wasn’t what my tummy wanted. At least I know now that when the request for French Silk Pie comes again, and I’m pretty sure it will, that I have this terrific recipe to offer.

Ok, so indulge me……What’s your favorite pie?

French Silk Pie

Pie crust of choice
2/3 c. sugar
2 eggs
2 oz unsweetened chocolate, chopped into small pieces
1 t. pure vanilla extract
1/3 c. butter, softened
2/3 c. heavy whipping cream
2 t. powdered sugar

Prep pie crust as needed, crimping edges. Preheat oven to 400° and bake pie crust 10-15 minutes, or until lightly golden brown. Allow to cool completely.

In a small saucepan, combine sugar and eggs, whisking to combine. Set over low heat, and whisking or stirring constantly, bring mixture to 160° , to where it thickly coats the back of a spoon. Remove from heat and add the chocolate and vanilla, whisking to melt chocolate and blend thoroughly. Cool to lukewarm, about 90°.

While chocolate mixture cools, beat butter with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add cooled chocolate mixture and beat on high speed for about 5 minutes. You want this to be light and fluffy, and flow in a continual thick ribbon when you lift the beaters.

In a separate bowl, beat heavy cream until thickened. Add in the powdered sugar and beat until cream holds very stiff peaks. Fold this whipped cream carefully into the chocolate mixture. It’s ok if it’s not completely uniform.

Spread into cooled pie crust, pressing into place with an icing spatula and smoothing the top. Place in refrigerator and chill for at least 4 hours, preferably overnight. Serve with extra whipped cream, and chocolate curls if desired.

From the Taste of Home website

KATE’S NOTES:
I used half pure cane sugar and half pure maple syrup for my sugar content in this. The added liquid didn’t make any difference in the final product. I also had an extra 1/2 oz of chocolate and added that for extra richness. More chocolate is always good.

I’m not the best when it comes to pie crusts, and for this pie I used Marie Callendars pre-made pie crusts from the freezer section in the grocer. They come ready to fill in reusable tins. I was really pleased with the results, and the flavor of the crust is pretty good. It also has the purest ingredients. Another good ready-made pie crust is Pappy’s. It has lard in it, which obviously makes it amazing, but comes in squares that you need to roll out. So if you roll out a mean crust, go with Pappy’s. Of course, if you’re a whiz with pie dough, ignore all of this.

To my 17 year old…..

April 19th, 2011 | 5 Comments »

It’s your 17th birthday.

You were once small enough to fit on my forearm, and I remember it but I don’t believe it. Not now, not when I look at you, the age of 17 and on the brink of being your own man. I’m ok with it though. I really love watching you grow.

I hope you remain compassionate like you are now. You’ve always been that way, so I think it will stay with you. Remember that even though the world around you may look like we’re all very different, fundamentally we’re pretty much the same. We hurt the same way when the world doesn’t unfold like we think; we bleed when we’re cut and we cry when we’re sad. We all struggle, some of us more than others. Be aware of that, and tread kindly with those who come in to your life. Everyone is just trying to do the best they can with what they’re given. Including you.

It’s not always easy to listen to the adults around you, or to think you need to pay attention to what they say. I know that you feel like you know everything because I was 17 once too. But I hope that when we talk that you’ll take my words and file them away in a place you can always go to, so that somewhere, when you’re ready, you can remember what I suggest. By no means do I think you should do anything I tell you. I raised you to make up your own mind about your life and you will do that, I have no doubt. But please, just try to remember what I tell you, and what we talk about. I’ve seen things in my lifetime that I pray will never happen in yours.

Use kindness in your words, and in your voice. I know that we all have the right to say what we want, but once those words leave your mouth, you can never, ever take them back. Learn to use a filter between your brain and your tongue. Sometimes it’s hard but when you learn how to really use it the right way, it leaves you much happier. I know. Trust me, I know.

I never reached far from home to find out what it was like. I hope you find a spark inside you that leads you away to explore, to visit, perhaps even to live. I’m ok if you go. I want you to go when you’re young enough to boldly explore the wild places, to climb the mountains or forge the streams that cause others to balk. I want you to be the one to answer a call, or a yearning. I want you to stand up and go when something needs to get done. I want you to know that when that voice inside you says ‘Let’s lend a hand’ that you jump up and do it. That voice inside you always means something. I hope you will listen. And trust it. Explore the world, go to places far away, share your smile and laughter with people of other cultures. We all laugh when we’re happy, it’s a universal language. Spread your beautiful smile, and amazing laugh around the world, if you dare. I know it will change you for the better, and take you to places of staggering beauty, that which you can see with your eyes but more importantly, beauty which will dwell inside you forever.

No matter where you go though, how far you move or reach or dream, my door will always be open to you. You are my only child, my only blood. I will be your landing pad no matter how old you are, or how far you go. You can always call me, regardless of the hour, or the need. Even if you just want to talk. Or not talk. I’m happy to just hear you breathing on the other end of the line. I hope you remember that.

I hope that you never resist doing something out of fear that you’ll fail. We all fail. I failed. I failed many, many times and yet I still got up and kept moving because I had no other choice. Even when it was hard, and it was hard more times than I will ever tell you. This life that you’re growing in to can be terribly hard and difficult. And imperfect. And unforgiving. And you will fail, but don’t ever turn your back on this life. Someday it will all make sense and you will find the path that’s right for you. It’s ok if it takes a long time. Mine did. Just know that every experience you have, those that deeply move you and the ones that bring you tears of sorrow, they will shape and mold you in ways you can never imagine. Don’t ever wish a bad season of your life away, because when you rise up out of the fog and the view becomes easier, you’ll find a deeper appreciation of that beauty when it’s placed next to life’s ugliest moments.

Remember when you were little, and I used to tell you that I would never punish you for telling me the truth but that if you lied and I found out, there would be consequences? Do always tell the truth. It’s far easier, even when it’s hard. Lies are dark and ugly, and they become absorbed by your soul and live inside you, telling you all sorts of awful things. We really mean it when we say ‘The truth will set you free.’ Because it does.

I hope you learn to trust your gut instinct; there’s a reason why some things just feel wrong to us. Don’t disrespect that instinct, or brush aside that uneasy feeling if it comes. Pay attention to your conscience, we all have one. And it’s the real deal. That voice inside you is the voice of your God, your Creator and He speaks to you through your heart. When you listen and pay attention, it becomes this glorious guide you simply can’t ignore. If you don’t listen, you may head down roads that take you to places no man should ever tread. Listen. Respect. Trust. You know that your God would never steer you wrong, but this world will try hard to drag you down, to immobilize you and close your eyes to His beauty and Grace. Many times you may not feel God’s love in you, but it never, ever leaves. Remember that.

You have a story, Griffin. It’s just beginning to unfold and it will be at times exciting and full of promise, but also will have moments of darkness and self-doubt. But it’s your story, and no one else’s. You build it and shape it according to the path that God has set you on, and no one has any right to push you off that road. Listen to your story, learn from it, but at the same time, pay attention to the stories unfolding of those around you. Care for their stories too. Never discount anyone’s life experience, never try to tell them their story is wrong. Every moment matters, even if it seems trivial and common. We’re all searching for the same thing; a place to belong, a life to call our own. Carve your path and allow others to carve theirs too. There will never be another You in all of time. In the thin vapor that is your life on this earth, make it shine farther than the deepest galaxy, trickling into the people around you. Others may forget what you’ve said; they may not remember everything you’ve done, but they will never forget how you’ve made them feel or the way you touched their hearts.

Find you, your dream, your path and your heart, and make your life remarkable. Make it extraordinary. It’s my hope that your 17th year on this earth is full of the bottomless joy of discovering more of who you are and where you are to go in this world. I’ve been blessed, amazed, humbled and honored to be your guide and I look forward to your adulthood with joy and wonder.

My truly thought-provoking friend Heather, who writes at The Extraordinary Ordinary, penned a letter to her two sons recently that inspired this post to my young man in honor of his birthday. This isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last that her words have stirred a response in me. Love your heart, Heather. xoxo

Where Griffin’s name came from……

The griffin, griffon, or gryphon is a legendary creature with the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle. As the lion was traditionally considered the king of the beasts and the eagle was the king of the birds, the griffin was thought to be an especially powerful and majestic creature.

{{info and photo courtesy of http://www.listze.com/lists/Most-Popular-Legendary-Creature}}

big important event announcements

April 18th, 2011 | Comments Off

Every once in a while, exciting new things sprout up around my kitchen; fun events that I’m participating in that I think you would find interesting. Most of these fun events have arrived via my relationship with The Motherhood, which began last November and has proven to be a win-win for both of us.

The first event happens this Wednesday. And it’s all about breakfast.

Once again, I’m co-hosting a virtual chat on The Motherhood, and we’re going to talk all things breakfast, most importantly- what’s the best meal options to start your day? Did you know that the USDA nutritional guidelines have changed once again? They have. There’ll be some talk about nutrition too.

Here’s the details:

What: You’re invited to a Kellogg virtual breakfast to discuss morning nutrition and the recently released 2010 Dietary Guidelines.

When: The virtual breakfast is happening on Wednesday, April 20, at 11 a.m. ET.

Where: In TheMotherhood – http://themotherhood.com/talk/show/id/62187

Who: Join Sarah Woodside, registered dietitian for Kellogg, and Liz Ward, registered dietitian, author and one of the Kellogg’s Breakfast Council members, to discuss the nutrients a good breakfast should provide, options for healthy breakfasts on the go, recent research findings on nutrition, and more. Sarah and Liz will speak to us via live streaming video, while we chat and ask questions through a real-time, text-based conversation.

And if that isn’t enough……

Do you know this coming Friday, April 22nd is Earth Day? It is, once again. And through The Motherhood, I’ve agreed to be a state representative for Minnesota, taking my own measures to Be Kind to the Earth, on Friday, and every day.

I’m a huge advocate of reusable shopping bags, and carry a big stash in my car. During the growing season in Minnesota, I put all my compostable kitchen waste on our garden, digging it right into the soil and often getting lots of volunteer plants coming up from the seeds. Our garden and yard is all organic (much to our neighbors chagrin!) We recycle, of course, and we have a yard waste bin that our trash haulers collect each week from April to November. We just replaced our washer and dryer with more environmentally friendly options, including a water sensor on the washer that only fills it according to the amount of clothes you place in the tub. I’ve eliminated paper napkins in our house by using cotton washable napkins, and old worn out towels get re-purposed for garage and cleaning. Last year I swapped out all my personal care products for natural, eco-friendly options without sulfates, petrochemicals or pthalates. This year, the cleaning products are on my hit list.

What are your best eco-friendly habits? Will you join in and make your own pledge to care for the Earth?

DISCLAIMER:
I am being compensated for participating in the breakfast chat, but being the Earth Day representative is just a lot of good karma. And everybody needs good karma.

when you just know

March 30th, 2011 | Comments Off

Little in life is predictable. And this is especially true during the month of March in Minnesota. Despite the warmth and rain that melted almost all of the 90″ of snow we’ve received this past Winter (because, officially it IS Spring!) we got socked with yet another snow storm that dumped a wide range of snow depths around the Twin Cities. And, obviously, generating a great deal of complaints from a state’s population that should be anything if not aware of what March can bring around these parts.

But is is Spring, after all. The sun is high enough to melt this stuff fairly quickly. One would hope, anyway. According to my gardening journal, last year at this time, the ice was out on the lakes in my area. We aren’t even close to that this year.

My boy was on Spring Break recently. To him, a week off school is a huge sigh of relief. This kid can’t wait to get beyond the expected and into what he truly wants to do. It was also a week to sleep late, and to spend time with me, just one on one. And on a quiet Tuesday, we did just that. Mentioning I had a gift card for Panera Bread, his face lit up with excitement and I knew there needed to be no more discussion on where we would enjoy lunch that day, after a trip to the chiropractor and a quick run through Target.

I’ve never been in a Panera at lunchtime when it’s not insanely crowded, weekend, or weekday alike. People love the place, for so many reasons. At our recent Twitter party for Panera, the TweetChat room I was in was relentlessly spitting out tweets from eager participants, so many of them, in fact, that Panera was trending on Twitter that day. And I was struggling to keep up with the words speeding by my eyes. What do they love about the place? The breads. The pastries. The muffins. The cookies. The soups. The salads. The sandwiches. The breads. Everything, it seems. You look around the room, during the crowded lunch hour and you see a wide range of people who are blissed out over their meal; elderly couples sharing coffee and rolls, families with a table full of trays, napkins, drink cups, loud conversation, shouting children and parents watching their kids enjoying a good meal. I saw folks engaged in a quick business lunch, carefully brushing crumbs off the suits and skirts of the corporate world. And it was clear that my boy wasn’t the only young person radiating Spring Break happiness. The place was full of kids.

One aspect of the Panera Twitter Party that I took away was how many parents really loved the fact that Panera offered a better option for their kids than fast food joints. Kids can be so fickle with their appetites, but take them to Panera and they’ve got dozens of options to satisfy them. Who doesn’t love a bowl of Creamy Wild Rice and Chicken soup? The thick noodles in their Chicken Noodle Soup just shout out ‘Comfort food!’. And then there are sandwich options to quell even the pickiest of eaters. And of course, when all else fails, there’s Mac and Cheese, PBJ sandwiches and Grilled Cheese. You can get hot Panini sandwiches. There’s basic green salads available, and a wealth of varied options that include Thai Chopped Chicken, Asian Sesame Chicken and a Fuji Apple Chicken Salad. Calorie counts are clearly listed, yet another appealing aspect of having a meal there. People like to know what they’re eating; they like to know what goes in their mouths, how it affects them and where they stand with their food.

And of course, Panera offers a full espresso service, coffee and tea by the Republic of Tea company, which has some amazing flavors of teas. You can get fruit smoothies, made with Stonyfield Farms Organic yogurt, one of the best commercial yogurts available. And every Panera has free WiFi for surfing, or working. Then there’s that cozy fireplace to gather around when the snow falls. And falls. And falls.

Griffin and I indulged fully that day for lunch, taking advantage of a free cookie from my PaneraRewards card. For every visit to Panera, they swipe your card and the rewards start piling up. A free espresso drink. A free bagel. Free pastries. And best of all, it’s free to join. Just grab a card at any Panera and fill out the information on their website.

He always orders the same thing when he goes; a bowl of Wild Rice soup and half a Sierra Turkey sandwich. He gets chips as a side with his soup, those deliciously crunchy kettle chips that are perfect for dredging through a bowl of hearty soup. Given his slight exacting nature, he always takes apart his sandwich to rearrange the filling. “It’s more even that way.” is what he always says, plus he can remove the offensive raw onions and most of the greens. For my lunch, I ordered an Italian Combo sandwich, thick with roast beef, turkey, ham and salami (and yes, I deconstructed it to ‘make it more even’ as well.) and also half a Chicken Cobb salad. We shared a Mint Crinkle cookie afterwards, marveling at the crunchy chewy edges surrounding the soft pliable center; cookie nirvana, if you ask me. A perfect mix.

The nice thing about that sort of lunch with my boy is knowing how happy it makes him to spend time with me, and with eating food that he really loves. We could be sharing a pizza or hoagies, or tacos, chips and salsa, but more importantly, we’re sharing time together. Sometimes we talk endlessly. Other times, we’re both just content to be right there next to one another, silently appreciating the companionship. He may be a teenager that strives for his own dependence, but it also seems that the further he stretches in an attempt to gain his own footing in the world, the more he needs to know, without a doubt, that we’re there to fall back on, regardless. A lunch, a shared cookie, the menial task of running errands and managing our time during my days off, it all matters. He never needs to say anything to me about what he needs; I just know. Like I know of a good place to have a decent lunch that I’m happy to feed my teenager, the time we need together is instinctive. We gravitate towards it naturally. Like everyday people to the food they can trust.

DISCLAIMER:

I was financially compensated for writing this post, and provided with the gift card that bought our meal.
All comments, claims and opinions are mine, and were not influenced by Panera or it’s associates.

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