Welcome to the Family, Artie

The whole way home I couldn't stop thinking about that juiced up, layered grilled cheese.  There was a much fancier name for it in the book, but I don't remember what it was, and I didn't have time to google what the words meant.  So in the meantime, I was sticking with grilled cheese su steroids.

I finally had a cookbook that left my mouth watering.  I figured I should read the beginning of the book, so I could get a little history on this restaurant called Carmine's.  I grabbed a drink, closed my bedroom door, climbed up on my bed, and opened the book to the first page.

Fifteen pages.  That's all it took.  In just 15 pages everything had changed.  I was no longer thinking about the food.  Sandwich? What sandwich?   I laid my head back, held the book up to my chest, and closed my eyes.  I pictured my family through Artie Cutler's eyes.  Cooking the recipes in this book was no longer just about having a great meal for dinner, it was about inviting Artie and his vision into my home.

This little adventure of mine had taken on a whole new meaning.  I grabbed my laptop and sent the following letter to the women I had met just hours before:

Kelly and Jill -

I just finished reading the introduction in the cookbook and I wanted to tell you how these 15 pages are probably the most important 15 pages I have read in a very long time.

I've toyed with the idea of cooking every recipe in a cookbook for awhile now.  I've actually bought a couple of different books and looked through them, but none of them seemed right.  I know it might sound a little cheesy - but none of them got me excited about the journey of cooking every recipe - regardless of the simplicity or complexity of what it would entail.  Until now.  Until I read the history of Carmine's.  I was fascinated as I read about how the Italian immigrants started a new life here and how they made big family meals that were delicious, creative, and yet simple in using basic ingredients they had on hand.  When they ran out of some ingredients, they found other ways to make a meal the family could look forward to.  It's easy to picture the children running around with their cousins and friends as the smells of a home cooked meal filled the air around them and then everyone coming in, to sit together as a family, and eat.  This was a time they could let the cares of the world fall away while they passed the food around.  As stories were told and laughter filled the air, the burdens of the day drifted away.

As I pictured this, I realized this is what I had been looking for.  This is what is missing in my home.  More often than not, meals are thrown together quickly in order to eat as fast as possible and get out the door.  Conversation during dinner time?  Forget about it.  No one has time for that anymore - there are emails to be checked, texts to return, social media to check up on.  Dinner is now a time where adults and children alike can sit with a fork in one hand and their phone in the other.  The idea that a good home cooked meal can bring a family closer together has long been forgotten.  But Artie Cutler didn't forget.  He saw the importance of people coming together over good food and a sense of belonging.  His vision recognized the need people have to take a moment away from the chaos the world throws at them.  A need to return to a time when life's problems could be solved over hot pasta and family love.

I want this for my family.  I want this for my three children.  Too often I'm throwing together "breakfast" for dinner because I have nothing planned or ran out of time.  Nothing says, "I love you. How was school?" like a fresh bowl of cereal or leftover pancakes.  Don't get me wrong - I'm sure those days will still happen, but I have fallen in love with the idea of bringing Artie's vision into my own home.  I want my children to look forward to dinner time.  To know this is a time they can let go of the stress of school, bullies, tough classes, and teenage drama. They can take a break from their day to day worries and know dinner time is for them to enjoy a home cooked meal they'll actually LOVE to eat and sit with family that loves and supports them.  I love the idea of my teenage son asking me if a bunch of his friends can stay for dinner and knowing I can grab my book and make an amazing meal that will do more than just feed five teenagers - it will make a memory as they sit around the table and laugh about their day and make plans for their futures.

I had no idea Artie's story would ring so true to me, but it did.  I can only hope I make him proud.  I imagine my dad tracking him down in heaven and asking why he couldn't have published this book 20 years ago when they were both alive so I could make him "stuffed pork fillet with broccoli rabe fontina and pine nuts with creamy polenta."

I'm going to NY this weekend with a friend of mine to have a girls weekend away.  I'm going to go and find the bench that Alice purchased on Broadway and 90th and take a picture of me in "Artie's first office" as I start this journey.  And when I finish, I'm going back to that bench and I'm going to tell Artie all about my experience and how through every recipe I made, my family grew that much stronger.

Thank you again for giving a girl a book that started her adventure.

Love,

Brenda Walker

So there you have it.  My plan is to cook a different recipe, every Sunday, until I've cooked my way through the book.

Here goes nothing...

Important Life Skills to Conquer the World

The morning starts off like any other morning.  First things first: getting the kids off to school.  It sounds so simple. With well over 100 days of school behind us, you'd think we would be a well oiled machine by now. Not so much.

While some enjoy a smooth, trouble-free morning of kids getting ready, no yelling or fighting and big hugs and kisses as they leave their love-filled home to conquer the world, we use these mornings as opportunities for the kids to practice important life skills.

Life skills my children like to practice:

1 - The art of splitting hairs: "I didn't hear you tell me to get dressed! That's not fair!  You said I should get ready for school, you never said I had to go get dressed!"

2 - The ability to look shocked and offended at any given moment:   "What??  I just brushed my teeth yesterday!  Why do I have to brush them again?  I don't have bad breath!  Why would you say something so mean to me?"

3 - Above all, taking no responsibility whatsoever.  You can always find someone else to blame: "I didn't know the project was due today!  The teacher said we'd take a look at SOME of the projects today.  It's not my fault she called my name.  It's because she hates me!  You have to help me finish the project tonight or she's marking it as late.  What do you mean you won't help me?  If you don't help me finish it, then it's not my fault it's late."

Most mornings end the same way: with me yelling at the kids just to get them moving.  Nothing else works.  Asking calmly just brings out their desire to audition for the national debate team.  By the time I have us all running to the bus stop, their morning has been filled with yelling, fighting, whining, privileges taken away, crying, and more yelling.  As I watch them leave for school, a pit has formed in my stomach as I think of how my kids left home feeling unsettled, angry, and sad, instead of happy and loved.  Off the kids go to conquer the world??  With mornings like this, they'll most likely be conquered by it.

This was heavy on my mind as I drove into DC for my friend's morning show.  As I walked in, I could smell something delicious, and the rough morning was momentarily forgotten as I tried to figure out what it was.  Apparently, Carmine's was catering The Tommy Show's live broadcast.

I had never heard of Carmine's before, and while it smelled amazing, I wasn't sold on Italian food so early in the morning.  As I was checking it out, I saw their cookbook set up at the end of the table.  I love cookbooks.  It doesn't matter that I'm a complete mess in the kitchen, I love the idea of cooking something awesome.  The sad truth is, whenever I tell the family I'm trying a new recipe for dinner, the kids don't waste time throwing out where they want to go eat when we deem the meal inedible. It's true.  Me cooking, is like the train wreck you can't not watch.

As I flipped through the cookbook and looked at the different pictures.  I couldn't help but think how cool it would be to cook every recipe in this book.  Then, reality took over and reminded me I was more of a pancakes-for-dinner type of girl than actually taking the time to cook a real meal.  I couldn't argue with that and as I was starting to close the book, a picture caught my eye and I stopped.

Whoa!  Hello, my cheesy, carb-loaded friend.  How have I lived so long without you?  My mouth began to water as my eyes took in the bread, cut into thin (but not too thin) square pieces where you can see the buttery sauce that has baked into the pores, leaving the bread toasted to a golden perfection, and the cheese...beautifully sliced mozzarella layered between each toasted piece of bread, melted just enough so it would be soft and stretch out between each bite, leaving bits of the rich mozzarella dangling, tempting you to come back for another before the fork has left your mouth.  And did I mention the perfect pairing of basil and capers?  YES, capers.  Giving this masterpiece just the right amount of salty tartness to go with the richness of the dish.  It was like a grilled cheese sandwich on steroids.  Maybe I had been too hasty in putting this book down.  Maybe reality should mind its own business.  I began to look a little closer at each picture, and the recipes within the book.

This was it.  This was a book I wanted to cook every recipe it had.

I asked the woman at the table, Kelly, if I could buy the cookbook.  She paused and then said, "I didn't bring any to sell.  But you can have it after the show, if you don't mind waiting."  Carmine's was getting better and better by the minute!  Afterwards, Kelly introduced me to Jill, and as we were talking I told them how all too often my cooking in a kitchen is like watching a bull in a china shop - it's not pretty, but it would be fun to write about.  They laughed, clearly thinking I was kidding.  They said they'd like to read about the recipes I cooked.  I got their cards, grabbed my new cookbook, hugged my friends (I love you Tommy, Kelly and Jen) who did an amazing job, as always, and headed home.

Xbox in One Hand, Blow Torch in the Other

Someone once said, "if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plan."  Done and done.  It's not like I try to have disastrous plans as much as my plans become disastrous.  My husband involuntarily cringes whenever I start a conversation with, "I had a thought..." or "I was thinking about something I wanted to try..."  Most of my grand plans involve my children and the vision I have of them getting along.  And by getting along I mean not actively trying to kill each other.  It is exhausting listening to kids fight and argue over the absolute dumbest, inconsequential things.  Just yesterday I hear Noah and Reagan yelling back and forth:

Reagan: YES, IT IS!

Noah: NO, IT ISN'T!

Reagan: YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!

Noah: YES, I DO!! STOP BEING A BRAT!

Reagan: I'M NOT A BRAT!  YOU'RE A BRAT!

--time for me to intervene--

Me: My dearest, adorable, sweet, sweet children, what seems to be the problem?  Is there anything I can do to help?

Fine, that's not what I said.

Me: ENOUGH!!!!!  (both kids stop yelling as they stare at my overly irritated presence in the doorway)  WHAT is so important that I can hear you two yelling about it all the way upstairs?

Noah: Reagan said it's supposed to rain tomorrow and I told her it wasn't and she keeps saying it will.

Reagan: I looked it up - IT IS going to rain tomorrow.  It is!!

Amazingly, they forget a very irritated mother is standing10 feet away and they start arguing about it...again.

Like a mature parent, I help them see that fighting and yelling is not the way to handle disagreements.  And by mature, I mean I walked out of the room, came back with a water bottle, and started spraying them down.  I figured if they were so concerned about getting rained on the next day, they might as well get a head start.  They were not amused.

Back to grand plans.  When I look at my family, I see two adults and three kids that are just trying to survive.  The parents are still trying to figure out how to balance their time between jobs, each other, the kids, personal time, and whatever life throws their way.  The kids are all over the place.  I think the older two stay up at night and plot which one gets to have a surge of hormones that week and should it be tears and falling apart or yelling and stomping around if anyone looks at them wrong. When they want a week off, they have trained their minion, aka "the 4-year-old," to wreak havoc in their stead.  He makes them proud.

It's not like I haven't tried 10,000 ways to bring us closer together...to be that loving, unified family. I've tried Family Home Evening, no tech Tuesday, reward jars, consequence jars, "calm and consistent in all we do" month (I use the words calm, consistent, and month loosely).  I tried "angry with zero tolerance" month.  Shockingly, my yelling did not produce happy obedient children.  Maybe if I yelled with an accent of some sort: "Zat is enough!!  No more of ze fighting!  You vill obey me!"  

I have read books, spent countless hours philosophizing with friends on how to bring the family closer and how to raise responsible, polite, respectful children, and on and on and on.  But nothing really works...and the children can smell my defeat.

Fine.  Eat dinner in front of the TV.

Fine.  Play with your friends before you finish your homework.

Fine.  Don't clean your room before you play on electronics.

They have worn me down and I begin to wonder if a happy, loving, supportive family was just some marketing scheme to make me buy a softer laundry detergent.  Silver lining: when my kids fight, at least they'll be in softer clothes.

This is my life in a nutshell.  I have to believe that it's possible to have a family where the children get along because they want to, not because I'm standing in the doorway with their Xbox in one hand and a blow torch in the other.  Like I said, I've tried a lot of different tactics.  In fact, I was pretty sure there wasn't anything really different I could try...until now.  Until Carmine's.