Spinach Ravioli

I feel like all I post about on FB anymore is food.  What I’ve cooked, what I’ve eaten, and what I’m going to cook and eat.  Nobody cares about that on FB, so I thought I’d write about it here.  🙂

Yesterday we made raviolis-FROM SCRATCH!  Now that is a labor intensive meal.  It takes a lot of time, a lot of muscle, and a lot of love.  I realize that it was my first time, so I probably took a little longer than necessary, but it took over two hours, start to finish.  That’s a long time to serve five people one meal.  More than worth it though, as it was TO DIE FOR! (Not really, it just sounds better than, IT’S TOTALLY WORTH THE SORE FOREARMS AND LOWER BACK I GOT FROM ROLLING DOUGH OUT SO THIN YOU COULD SEE THROUGH IT!  NOT TO MENTION THE HEARTBURN I GOT FROM EATING THE RAW ONIONS IN THE SALAD WE MADE AS A SIDE DISH.  OH, AND THE STAIN FROM THE GLASS OF RED WINE I SPLASHED ONTO MY SLEEVE WHEN I WAS POURING IT.)

So anyway, it was super fun, and Rowan helped out as much as possible.  When he wasn’t helping, he was quietly playing, and recruiting my aunt to play with him too.  They built towers, explored the house, played trains, and watched as I worked my butt off.  It was great.

If anyone wants the recipe, I can post it, but right now, you’re just going to get pictures of the process.

Spinach! Chopped and cooked.

 

The filling: parm cheese, spinach, eggs, garlic, parsley, olive oil, and a touch of red curry.

 

Rowan loved to kneed the dough. Really simple recipe for a great-tasting and super stretchy dough.

The filling spred onto one quarter of the dough.

 

Sealing the raviolis with the special rolling pin. I REALLY want one of those things. Thankfully I have an aunt that will let me cook with her whenever I want to. 🙂

Rowan loved it, and asked for seconds. When we got home, he was excited to tell everyone about our day. When asked what he ate, he said, "Wettuce!" All that work and remembers the lettuce...

I brought enough home for another meal, and it’s in the freezer, taking up space.  Tomorrow I will purchase a more than five dollar bottle of wine, bake a loaf of bread, and serve a feast when my extended family comes for my grandmother’s 91st birthday this weekend. 

I’m so freaking domesticated.

Oh!  And to top things off, my aunt gave me a great Tapas cookbook.  Only problem is that her dog got sprayed my a skunk, and even after four baths in de-skunking shampoo, the smell had permeated the house, including the cookbook.  So while reading through the book last night, all I could smell, and consequently think about was skunk.  I wonder if I’ll ever be able to cook tapas without gagging now….

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Here’s my heart!

Rowan and I have been discussing Valentine’s Day, what it means, how it started, and how it’s celebrated.

He has decided that I will be his valentine, we will get married, and have a date.  Yeah, I’ll start looking into therapists for him now….

Anyway, this morning he pulled out his magna-doodle and told me he was going to draw love.  I was totally intrigued, and peered over his shoulder as he drew this:

Without any prompting he said, are you ready for this?!?!   “Mama, here’s my heart for you!”  HE DREW ME A HEART AND THEN GAVE IT TO ME!  

I KNOW!!!!! 

I’ve been a little off my rocker lately, so I did tear up, and hugged him, and told him he was the sweetest valentine ever.  He let me gush over him for about 30 seconds, and then couldn’t tolerate it any longer.  Still, a very tender moment.

Now that I’ve made a total fool of myself, I’ll go.  But don’t think I won’t bring this up on his first Valentine’s day with his special someone.  I’ll totally cry and pull out that picture, and then maybe this one:

Valentine's Day 2010

Dear Rowan,

On Monday you fell off the bed and sprained your arm.  Your left arm.  That’s tough stuff for an active, independent, left-handed toddler.  Once again though, you taught me a lesson in adaptability, patience, and good ol’ fashion relaxing.

I am not exactly stellar at any of the above.  Life has a way of forcing you to learn what you need to learn, though, and who am I to ignore these lessons?  Oh, not to mention that if you try to fight it, it’s just going to come back and bite you in the butt.  So, Rowan, when things get hard, it just means God has something to teach you.  Don’t fight it, it’ll just make things harder.

Since you hurt your arm, all you really want to do is watch Air Bud.  It’s a cheesy movie about a golden retriever that plays basketball.  You love it.  No, you are OBSESSED with it.  The first couple times we watched it, I just enjoyed cuddling with you.  We snuggled, you asked me to marry you, complete with slipping a plastic purple ring onto my pinkie.  You then asked me, “Marry me means?”  I told you it meant we’d love each other for forever.  You laughed and said it would only be two more hours.  I guess the sanctity of marriage really is on the rocks… 

Anyway, after about the fourth viewing of Air Bud, I couldn’t take it any more, and started to fidget.  I was paying bills, piling books, anything I could do while sitting in a chair with you on my lap.  You were not impressed and told me to stop touching your arm.  It hurt.  So I stopped, wrapped my arms gently around you, and we watched the movie together.  This time you had my full attention, and I know you can’t express it, but I could tell by how you put your head on my shoulder that you appreciated it.  Sometimes I wonder who is the adult in this relationship.

This morning you were feeling SO much better.  You even dismantled a train flashlight, one-handed.  You figured out how to control your world with one hand really quickly.  Faster than I could have adjusted.  You’re so adaptable, you make me want to be more like you.  When your world suddenly changed on you, you easily went with the flow, and didn’t even stumble. 

My favorite though, was when you sat yourself in your red chair, in the center of the play room, and did a one handed version of “The Itsy-bitsy Spider”.  Priceless.

I’m glad you’re feeling better Rowan. 

Love, Mama

Snow day

We started by making organic peanut butter play-doh.  It’s quite simple and delicious! 
‎1/2 cup peanut butter
1/4 cup honey
4-6 oz. corn meal

Combine together peanut butter and honey. Add the corn meal until it reaches the desired consistency.

The Ingredients

   I got the peanut butter and honey from a grocery store in Lewisburg, and the corn meal was imported from Sunflower, my favorite market in Albuquerque.  I miss that city and the people…that’s a whole different post though. 

Rowan has got this cooking stuff under control. I'm just there to control the mess.

 

Success!

Following the play-doh party, we had a romantic picnic on the play room floor.

An organic lunch! Peanut butter and jelly on homemade bread, apples, "wine"(organic cranberry juice with carbonated water), and smarties for dessert. (okay, those aren't organic.)

 

Cheers! Here's to an awesome day!

 

After we fueled up we headed outside for a little shoveling and a little fun.

Seriously, Rowan? Must you be that cute?

Then it was back inside for popcorn and a movie!

After our viewing of Free Willy (I’m not kidding.  He loved it!), my mom, who is an antique dealer, wanted to use Rowan as a model.  She acquired an old Eton Boarding School uniform, from about 1915.  We bribed Rowan with Pez and a new truck to wear the uniform and let us take pictures so she can sell it on Ebay.

Yeah, it was as adorable as it looks. 

It was a nearly perfect day, and to counteract that perfectness, Rowan dumped a can of wet cat food into my boot, put it on, and walked around the living room.  He then took it off, walked around with cat food stuck to his sock, and then told me about the whole thing.

*headesk*

Makes sense to me

So, the underwear over the pants has become a 24/7 occurence.  It doesn’t bother me any, though his underwear does get really dirty.  I will probably have to buy more when he’s ready to actually wear them UNDER his pants.

I finally just came out and asked him why he chooses to wear his underwear on the outside.  The answer was so obvious, that I felt kind of dumb even asking him:

“So I can see them!”

Starting the Year off right.

It’s been in the mid-50’s here for the past few days, causing our snow to get mushy and sticky.  It was just begging to be made into a snowman.

Rowan and I threw our cares to the wind, ditched the snowpants, got soaking wet, covered in grass and mud, and kicked off 2011 the way everyone should.  Wet, dirty, and not hung over.

And now a little background on the snowman:  (It is indeed a man.  I asked.)  His name is Face.  He in from Al-querque(Albuquerque), and he is 32 years old.  His favorite colors are orange and turquoise, and he likes to play hootball (football).  He can jump wicked high, but he can’t skip.  He needs to practice some more.  His biggest accomplishment is having his head rolled onto his body, and his most embarrassing moment was when Sage, the neighbor’s dog, peed on him.  Also when Rowan ate one of his eyeballs.  And then I ate the other one.