Toast With Marmalade

Friday mornings...up at 6:10...make coffee....try to make my brain do things...like make toast...that it is simply not ready to do...

I have a Friday morning tradition...I make toast with marmalade...Friday mornings are something of a transition period for me. The kids are not here and unless there is a game or activity on Saturday I will not see them until Monday. While I enjoy the quiet...it takes a bit of effort to shift gears and be comfortable with that quiet.

Toast with marmalade helps.

Like I have written here before, food tells stories, and for me toast with marmalade tells a story of comfort and of the ability of certain people, places, and things to make the world go away...if only for a while. Toast with marmalade is a civilized breakfast...simple, elegant, and deceivingly complex....the cool, sweet, tangy marmalade mingling with the crunch of warm toast...

No kids...no rushed breakfast...no fights over who sits where and when...and apparently...last week...no brain...

This morning...I found my marmalade not in its usual spot in the refridgerator...but...instead...in the freezer...where it became a solid block of orange ice....

Making toast is more than my brain can handle at 6:10. Toast with butter will have to do.

Morning Coffee

6:10.......

The alarm goes off at 6:10 every morning....without fail...which is damn early for someone who has to wait until 11:00 to feel fully human.

6:10......

I get up that early to take advantage of the best part of the day and to have some quiet time before my kids wake up....again....I am not fully human until 11:00....

A part of my morning ritual is morning coffee. Now...there are some things I can manage without first having coffee...that list is very short and even those things I wonder how well I do without coffee. One morning, before 6:10...I took Joey out and when we got back inside I found myself trying to get into an apartment that was not my own...it would seem that I needed to climb one more flight of stairs to get to my place...

Four years ago, as I prepared to set up my own household, the thing I bought was a coffee grinder. Before furniture, dishes, towels, lamps, anything....a coffee grinder....

I was told by the third floor tenant in my old building that each morning she could hear my coffee grinder from her bedroom...too bad...I needed my coffee...she was a tea drinker anyway...

The second thing I bought, as I prepared to set up my own household, was a coffeepot. A humble $15.99 Mr. Coffee coffeepot.

I still have both the coffee grinder and the coffeepot.

I did the math...I have 27 days worth of coffee mugs...and then it would be on to espresso...

From time to time...Oliver joins me for a morning cup of coffee (do not tell his mom...for some reason its OK for him to drink gallons of Mountain Dew but not alright for him to have coffee)...

Inside my head I have a voice from distant memory that whispers "coffee" to me every morning....

I think I might have a problem.

No matter....nor does it matter if its because of the taste, the caffeine, or its warmth...morning coffee is not merely a starter fluid, its a comfort and a pleasure. And I need all the comfort and pleasure I can get at 6 freaking 10 in the morning.

Hmmmmm....Doughnut.....

Sunday morning...after a night of tossing and turning...and turning and tossing...and very little sleep...I needed to be on the road before 9:00...I needed something...a pick-me up...something to help me with sleep deprivation and to brace myself for a day of Little League baseball....

I stopped by my favorite mom and pop doughnut shop intending to get myself a treat to set myself up for the day and to deal with a pounding headache...and yes...there was more than a little sublimation going on as well...

From the counter, browsing the doughnut and pastry case I found exactly what I needed;

A jelly filled marble cruller...under a heavy coating of sugar glaze....

Whomever came up with the idea for this decadent jelly filled deep fried treat should be given a medal or put in prison for developing a doughnut form of crack...as in the parking lot I immediately ate the first one I bought and rushed back inside to buy another...as I said...there was more than a little sublimation going on...

Anyway...the glazed jelly filled marble cruller...its sort of like coming up with a perfectly fine candy bar and then deciding to slather it with frosting...the damn thing was sooooo good it was almost evil...

Sometimes you need a good stiff drink, others a bowl of ice cream....and sometimes...at least for me anyway...you need a doughnut...

My Little League Experience; Opening Day

Today is Opening Day for the Bridgewater, Massachusetts Little League season. Because we just can't have our kids go to the field and play baseball, I am going to be at the field at 9:00 this morning to watch a parade, listen to a few endless speeches, and be generally cranky about the whole thing.

And then Aidan plays at 12:30.

Oliver at 3:00.

Fiona and I are going to be in for a looooooong afternoon.

I had forgotten all about the parade until earlier this week when a friend of mine emailed me a not so gentle reminder. This friend of mine, whose son graduated from Little League last year, was an integral part of last year's Little League experience and in sending me the reminder I knew exactly what she was saying..."enjoy the parade Pierce and have a good time standing around Legion Field for three hours...I will be at home in my yard..."

Gee...thanks...

I enjoy going to the field/court/dance studio to see my kids in action...what I don't like...at all...is the inclination, the impulse, the unrelenting drive to make an event out of every activity in which our kids participate.

My (erstwhile?) dear friend told me a story of her careening across town to get to Halloween "parade" at her son's school. This parade entailed the kids going out of their class...and walking down the hallway to another class...Earlier this spring my son had a kickball game with Cub Scouts....parents brought their video cameras, held up signs, and carried on as though this was surely going to be THE formative moment of their son's childhood...all of this FOR.....A.....KICKBALL.....GAME.....I dropped Aidan off and went off for a walk with my daughter....I was later scolded for not taking pictures....

Somewhere along the way we lost all perspective and have decided that a birthday party for our kid is not enough...we need to get a jumpy and have entertainment...That it is not enough to let the kid go to school in his Halloween costume...there has to be a parade...That its not enough to have the kid play in in Little League...that there has to be opening ceremonies...

If everything is special and important...then nothing is special and important.

So...in about two hours I will be standing at the ball field...drinking my coffee, thinking my thoughts, and pondering my ponderings. I do know one thing...the time spent on parades, ceremonies, and making more of things than they really are...these are disctractions...an attempt to make us feel better about something...about what I am not exactly sure. When I figure it out I will let you know.

Baseball Bats

My boys and I have a springtime ritual that we have followed for a number of years. At the beginning of March we start to prepare for the upcoming Little League season. They take hundreds of ground balls. They take batting practice. I take pain killers. How I love rituals.

This year is a bit different in that my oldest, Oliver, is stepping up to Senior League. Senior League is played on a big league diamond where its 60 feet 6 inches to home plate and its 90 feet from base to base. This is where boys really play baseball.

Last week, Oliver announced to me that he needed a new baseball bat. Ok...yes...I was not at all surprised that he needed a new bat...but when I casually asked if we were talking about something between $70.00 and $100.00 he told me that bats can go as high as $600.00 but that we should be able to find something in the $200.00 to $250.00 range.....

$200.00...to...$250.00...for...a...baseball...bat....

$200.00 to $250.00 for a baseball bat.

OK...that little revelation took a while to sink in...and I did a little research and as it turned out...I was not being played and that Oliver was actually trying to get me out of this for short money. So we went to a major sporting goods chain and looked at bats. We saw one that he liked but I told him that I needed to think about whether I was going to spend that kind of money on a baseball bat.

The next day his mom picked up the bat for him....the day after that I was presented with the bill.

Last night I was talking to another dad with whom I am acquainted while watching our sons play in a pre-season scrimmage. He told me that he paid $500.o0 for his son's bat. I looked at him....

Me: "You have got to be ****ing kidding me."

Him: "I know...but I love my son."

Me: "For $500.00 you could have bought a new son who would not make you buy overpriced sports equipment."

Him: "My son is the reason why I live and breathe...sometimes he is the reason why I get up in the morning."

Me: "My son is the reason why I sometimes go to bed early and pull the covers over my head...."

He laughed...I told Oliver this story...he laughed...

I love my son too...he is a good kid...even though he sometimes makes me want to go to bed early...

Baseball season starts tomorrow...and I can't wait to see Oliver, and Aidan, and Oliver's overpriced bat in action.

Asparagus

Food comes with stories. I mention ham...and a lot of you will think about Easter...or maybe Christmas. I mention ice cream and you will think of hot summer evenings at the ice cream stand or trips to Friendly's with your grandparents. When I think of ham I think of Thanksgiving...mention ice cream I think of sitting in my chair late at night watching the Red Sox...mention sushi I may well think of my birthday...mention asparagus...well...there is a story with goes with asparagus too...

Little by little I have been working to de-emphasize meat in our diet. This is not an easy thing for me as I regard Sunday roast beef as a part of my Anglo-Saxon birthright. So I have been putting out fruit and vegetables and cheese before dinner in an effort to reduce the amount of meat and chicken we eat. Along the way I have introduced new foods to the kids...with interesting results...they like mobier cheese, mangoes, and summer squash but only Oliver will eat goat cheese...as for asperagus...well...not so much.

This impulse, the desire to eat less meat and chicken, was born from one part of my own personal story, goes well with the impulse to serve up asparagus...which as I mentioned has a story of its own. Besides...asparagus is in season...its good...and goes with anything...except 10 and 13 year old children.

So...on a cookie sheet, with olive oil and kosher salt I roasted these delicate green stalks of delicious goodness. I served them up...had the kids come to the table...

and then they looked at me.

I looked at them.

They looked at me.

At this point I knew I was in a standoff and that I needed to be quick on the draw....

Then Fiona asked..."what.......is........this?"

I told her..."asparagus."

Then...she...my princess said "I hate asparagus." The boys then chimed in..."yeah Dad...we hate asparagus..." This from children whom to my knowledge never had asparagus....

And that was enough for a dinner table fracas to break out. Oliver relented and tried one piece...I decided that getting into a shootout over asparagus would be an unwise move on my part so I relented...and now...waiting for me when I come home for lunch...will be...well...asparagus...and the story that goes along with it.

Child Support

That is...support from children....There are a number of things concerning parenting about which I have some very old fashioned, some would say quaint, ideas. That children should be quiet when they are being spoken to, that they need to eat what is put in front of them, that not everything is open to discussion and debate, and that No is a complete sentence.

An old fashioned notion that we are putting into practice here in Abington is the idea that kids should help maintain the household. Now if I had a yard my oldest boy would cut the grass. I don't (that's a battle for my ex wife to wage) but there are things around here with which they are starting to help...and they are not complaining at all about it.

How did I do this you might ask?

Easy...I tricked them.

It started innocently enough...or so they thought. One evening while I was making dinner I asked Oliver to unload the dishwasher. He did so without complaint. Because the kitchen island is next to the dishwasher and I put out a plate of cheese and fruit I was able to lure my 13 year old into the kitchen area to get him to unload the dishwasher. Now, every night before dinner, there is a fruit and cheese plate out in the island and every night Oliver unloads the dishwasher.

Aidan and Fiona are not motivated by plates of healthy food (although I think the promise of jellybeans would get Aidan to do almost anything) so I have to pick my spots with them. They will typically set the table and haul stuff out of the fridge for me.

I confess...I am motivated more by the desire/need to make life easier for me at dinnertime than I am by anything else at this point. But I am mystified by those parents who appear to think that kids are not capable of making a sandwich for themselves...I mean...we are not asking them to operate an atomic super collider...for crying out loud...all it is are two pieces of bread with something between them. I am not at all above telling my kids to make themselves a sandwich or heat up soup for themselves.

Get it yourself...another fashioned idea we are working on around here....Get it for me is up next.