pamjsa

Ruth, those cookies are adorable! My kids came home with a boatload of candy from Valentine's Day parties at school, so dessert this evening was their rejects (in other words, all the good stuff--like dark chocolate hearts.)

Thanks for all these suggestions--lots of options to explore.

Hello all. I'll be in Oakland for three days in early March, staying at the Marriott City Center. I'll be there for a meeting, but my schedule is somewhat flexible during the day and I'm looking forward to trying out new restaurants as time permits. Specifically, I'm looking for restaurant recommendations near the hotel or within walking distance. (I know "walking distance" is a relative term, so I'll also mention that I'm a runner and in good physical shape.) Making a quick BART trip isn't out of the question, but may be tricky to negotiate for lunch. Also, I'll be travelling on my own--safety issues may affect your recommendations for the after-dark hours. I'm an adventurous eater, though, so no holds barred. Price is a consideration, since I have a per diem limit. Thanks in advance!

At my house, they were "Rice Pippies." I was also a big fan of "Yucky Charms."

Pie crust. For years I was convinced it was too hard to make--even my mother doesn't make her own pie crust anymore--but then Ken Haedrich's wonderful cookbook, Pie, convinced me to give it a shot. I was amazed at how easy it is, and how much better a homemade crust tastes. The packaged stuff just doesn't compare.

My husband and I did this the first year we were married--it seemed like a good way to bring the two halves of our family together, plus add our closest friends to the mix. This was 17 years ago , so there wasn't much word processing or design capability on the average home computer; we typed up the recipes, did some black and white stencils on the cover pages for various sections, and called it good enough. We also photocopied the recipe cards we loved most (like the one from his grandmother, which includes the list of ingredients for her famous dinner rolls followed by the direction "Put dough in pan and bake until done") and included those as well. Two suggestions: we used a plastic spiral binding (available at places like Kinko's--I think they call it a "comb" binding), and this was a great decision because it allows the cookbook to sit open on the counter while you're cooking from it. This is not an expensive option. Also, we copied recipes only on the front of each page, leaving the backs blank, so people could write in new favorite recipes as they came upon them. I've found this to be really useful. We're planning to update the cookbook this year. If the others' books are as stained and torn up as mine, the new edition is long overdue!

From my newly adopted home state: tortilla soup and Mexican hot chocolate (made with my newly acquired molinillo, while requiring my children to sing the traditional "hot chocolate song," to practice their Spanish.) From my family history: sugar cream pie. My grandmother made this, and for years I was pretty sure she'd invented the recipe because no one outside my family had ever heard of it. My mother didn't like it, so never made it, and at some point I forgot about it. Then I read Haven Kimmel's terrific memoir, A Girl Named Zippy, in which she mentions sugar cream pie several times--turns out it's a pretty common southern dessert. But the book spurred my memory, compelled me to seek out a basic recipe online, and gradually I developed a recipe of my own that tastes exactly like what I remember of Granny Goode's pie. Brought my mom to tears when she tasted it, too (even though, as I said, it's not one of her favorites.) I've also developed a fondness for cheese grits, corn cakes and brisket since moving to Texas. None of these items were anywhere near the comfort food menu of my Idaho girlhood.

Also useful: Spray-n-Wash Stain Stick. (The spray kind doesn't work, for some reason, only the stick variety.) Soak off as much of the sticker as you can, run the Stain Stick across the leftover goo, and scrub it off. The stain stick leaves a slick, oily residue behind, but that's easily washed off with soap and hot water.

Snowangel, we bought a side-by-side fridge just a few months ago and I'm still amazed at the difference it has made. My son drinks water by the gallon simply because it's so cool--and much easier than hauling out the milk jug. You also mentioned having lots of fruit on hand, which we do. He's not averse to fruit, though he has to be reminded that it's a snack option; somehow, fruit=snack just hasn't taken hold for him. I'm withholding my freaking out over the appetite suppression factor until we see exactly what the ADD meds will do (or not do). Thanks to all who've offered advice and support, especially all those who've pm-ed me with your personal stories. It's been great to hear so many different perspectives. I thought about starting another thread when the ADD issues became a factor, but for me it's all the same ball of wax because it's all the same kid, the same appetite, the same little body being affected by his choices. BTW, I'll add that we ordered a treadmill for our family Christmas gift this year. It'll take up the space in my bedroom where I'd been dreaming of putting a leather club chair and a big bookshelf, but oh well--we'll all live longer and read more books (perhaps while on the treadmill). The kids are already jockeying for treadmill time, and we don't even have it in the house yet!

New Year's Eve is our wedding anniversary (17 this year), and for the first few years of our marriage we celebrated by going out with my sister and brother-in-law. Usually we visited a restaurant we'd been wanting to try, or something too expensive to try without an occasion to warrant the splurge. But I've always hated the NYE crowds, so after a few years we made the meal a stay-at-home affair and alternated who would host. Then my husband and I moved away from our extended families, and it became a smaller, more personal occasion for just the two of us. I remember those years very fondly. Now, post-kids, we have a family dinner at home--usually, heavy appetizers that everyone can snack on throughout the evening and some sort of ridiculously caloric dessert--play games until midnight, and ring in the new year with paper hats, noisemakers, the works. Champagne for the grownups, sparkling juice for the wee ones. The kids' delight in getting to stay up until midnight makes the occasion much more festive than any NYE of my youth.

So, a new twist in the continuing saga: my son has now been diagnosed with ADD (without the hyperactivity dimension of this disorder--in fact, as I said upthread, he's a pretty sedentary kid, and can be very focused when he's really engaged in a task.) This explains some of the trouble he's been having at school this year. I'm hopeful we can address that trouble through medication after a visit with the neurologist in a couple of weeks. But on the food front: all the research I've done on ADD medications indicates that they nearly always cause appetite suprression and weight loss. Since, as I've mentioned, my son could stand to stabilize his weight while he gets taller, I'm not terribly concerned about the weight loss issue at the moment. But does anyone have experience with an already picky eater taking ADD medication? As if it hasn't been hard enough to get my son to make good food choices, now I'm concerned that suppressed appetite will make him that much less open to trying new things. And if he isn't eating much, I'm not sure I want to fight with him about what he does eat. A friend tells me her son didn't gain a pound for two years after starting his ADD meds. While there's really no doubt in my mind that this is what my son needs--he has 18 of the 25 "official" symptoms his pediatrician looks for--I'm freaking out at the thought that our food battles have only just begun. I realize this is worry in advance of the actual problem, but I'll accept any words of wisdom anyone has to offer.

In case you have guests who aren't champagne lovers (I know, but there are a few weirdos out there ), spiced cider with vanilla vodka and a splash of cream also makes a nice holiday drink.

Tamales (it's that time of year). Tortilla soup (also that time of year). Local peaches, pecans, strawberries, et al. Tres leches cake. And many, many more amazing things that have become part of my regular life since moving to this edge the country. I wasn't born in Texas, but clearly I should have been. My soul is Southern, y'all! And, of course, the wonderfully supportive community here at eGullet, from whom I learn something every single day.

Believe it or not, I get that exercise is important and that my son could eat more if he were more active. I've chosen to focus on food issues right now because that's the one thing it seems we can get some immediate control over (and because, hey, this is egullet.) I cannot force my son to walk around the block, bale hay (like there's any hay to be baled in our suburb anyway), or play basketball. Even if I could, I wouldn't. My own loathing of physical exercise springs directly from junior high p.e. classes where I was forced to do things I didn't want to do. Up until that point, I was a pretty active kid; when I started getting C's in p.e. because I couldn't learn how to do a routine on the uneven parallel bars, I stopped thinking of myself as a person who could be "successfully" active in any way. I've really appreciated all the input here, and I've implemented a great deal of it already. I'm sure I'll figure out the exercise piece with my son's input, as I've figured out that letting him know (and sometimes choose) what to expect for dinner is helpful in getting him to eat the healthy options I serve. I've already started exploring some alternatives to karate, which he did enjoy for awhile. In the meantime, he's become the designated dog-walker--a responsibility I swapped for putting away his laundry, which for some reason he just hates to do. I figure he's better off (and better dressed) under the present arrangement.

Lori, I love this Christmas tradition! I grew up in the same sort of "sacred living room" household, but my mother would never have thought to profane that space with a picnic, under any circumstances. The orange-in-the-stocking story seems to be pretty common among a certain generation (the writer Haven Kimmel discusses this fact in her wonderful memoir, A Girl Named Zippy, which also makes mention of sugar cream pie--something I was pretty sure my grandmother had invented, until I saw it in this book, because no one outside of my family seemed to know what it was.) My parents put oranges in our Christmas stockings when I was a kid, but that tradition has fallen by the wayside. I can only imagine what my kids would say to that: "An orange? That's weird. Why would Santa put an orange in my stocking?" Another reason why I started the Orange Meal, to keep the spirit of the past alive.

I started thinking about this while posting on another thread and thought I'd open it up to others here. Some years ago my little family of four started celebrating Christmas with what my husband now calls "the traditional orange meal." By way of background: both of my parents grew up poor during the Great Depression. By "poor," I don't mean they lacked money for luxuries; I mean my father had to visit the welfare office in town to get a voucher that would allow him to buy shoes for his mother's funeral. In late October. In the Midwest. My mother's family was slightly better off--she always had shoes, albeit hand-me-downs from one of her many older sisters--but she tells a story that always breaks my heart, about watching a schoolmate eat an orange for lunch one day right after Christmas. "The smell of that orange just sent me through the roof," she says. "I remember just watching her eat it and being so sad that I didn't know when I'd taste an orange again." So, in celebration of the bounty we now enjoy, my family uses a silver bowl full of oranges as the centerpiece for our Christmas dinner. (The bowl was inherited from my husband's grandmother, who also grew up in abject poverty but went on to make a small fortune in real estate.) I use "orange" as sort of a general theme for the Christmas Eve meal--not just the taste, but also the color. I vary the menu, but in the past it's included ham with orange sauce, apricot-glazed chicken, sweet potatoes, glazed carrots, cheese souffle, etc. I don't obsess about being monochromatic--we usually have a few non-orange items on the table as well--but it's a nice way of honoring the work that our ancestors put into bringing us to the place we enjoy now. I live far from my extended family these days, and my mom's very touched that she inspired this tradition--it makes her feel like she's with us in spirit during the holidays, which of course she is. I know lots of people with unusual holiday food traditions, but I'm the only person who serves the orange meal. What traditions make you or your family unique?

Marmish, those are excellent suggestions! I think the "dinner jar" would be a big hit. I'd thought about rotating weeks and/or days, or alternating who gets to choose the entree or sides, but I also like the theme idea. (Interestingly, given your suggestions, we do what my husband now calls "the traditional orange meal" every year for Christmas! There's a long family story behind this, which perhaps I'll share on a more appropriate thread.) Tonight's dinner: miniature pizzas, sliced pears and corn. My son's a cheese purist; we used lowfat mozzarella on the pizza and he was none the wiser. Again, not a combination I would have chosen--but better than last night's scrambled eggs and carrots.

Well, I'm pleased to report that we seem to be making some real progress. Getting my son involved with the menu planning (and resigning myself to planning, rather than cooking on the fly) was a really big step: when I put my son in charge of the dinner menu for this week, with no guidelines whatsoever, he made excellent choices all on his own. Every meal he designed included both a fruit and a vegetable! It appears he's internalized what a balanced meal looks like, even if he isn't always willing to eat what's good for him. The sweetest part of this exercise was discovering that my son had designated one night as Chef's Choice, "so you can choose something that you like too, Mom." Tonight's menu was (sort of) breakfast for dinner: scrambled egg and cheese tacos, apple slices, and baby carrots. Not a combination I would have come up with, but my son enjoyed everything on his plate for a change, and because he was full he didn't even ask about dessert. That's definitely a first. Still working on the activity issue, but at least we're making some headway with his food choices. The question now is whether we'll rotate menu-planning responsibility--since my daughter certainly isn't going to stand by while her brother dictates all the meals--or start trying to plan by committee. I sense that won't be quite as appealing.

My eight-year-old son's Thanksgiving artwork: a colorful rendering of a turkey made from his handprint (his thumb was the head, his fingers the rainbow-colored tail feathers), with a dialogue bubble coming from the turkey's mouth proclaiming--what else?--"Eat me!" He was a little confused as to why his father and I found this so deeply amusing.

Well, given that his father and I--both academics--respond to illness by saying "I hate being reminded that I have a body!" this is sure to be a challenge for us all. I do appreciate the suggestions regarding other forms of martial arts; I really thought my son would go for karate, but the sparring thing made it a non-starter. Then again, maybe the problem was the class we'd enrolled him in? It seemed a little more boot-campy than I'd expected. Interestingly, when I asked my son what he wanted for dinner tonight, he thought only briefly before saying "Turkey burgers and green beans. Maybe some pineapple." I fairly flew to the kitchen to start cooking, and he snapped the green beans while we chatted about his day at school, and during dinner my son made a point of asking Dad whether he liked the green beans, adding that he'd "made" them. (I did not correct him, naturally.) There's another thread going now, regarding what kids would feed their families if they had the power to make those choices. Does anyone recommend putting kids in charge of (or at least keeping them intimately involved with) menu planning? I haven't done this so far because my son's favorites are so limited--and, well, because I hate menu planning, and prefer to cook whatever I'm in the mood for. But perhaps giving my son a measure of control over what's going to be on the table each night would be another way of encouraging him to think carefully about what he's eating.

Tai Chi is a possibility, and we've thought about tennis. But we're in southern Texas, so cross-country skiing isn't going to work. And by the way, no soda in our house. The only time my kids drink it is as a treat, when we go to a restaurant, and even then my son is more likely to order milk. And,as I said in an earlier post, the juice has already been cut back to one cup a day, if that. Here's an interesting development: last night, I noticed that my son proclaimed himself full and then got up to ask "What's for dessert?" and inspect the kitchen cabinets. "If you're full, you don't need dessert," I said; "if you're not full, then finish your dinner first." He looked at me as if I'd lost my mind: no dessert? Surely, I must be joking. But he sat down at the table again and finished his dinner, and then he decided he'd wait awhile for dessert, and then he forgot about it altogether. So maybe this is as much (or more) a problem of habits and routines as of the food he's eating. Malagai, my son was also a scrawny little guy until he turned six--then, suddenly, he started getting thick around the middle. I hadn't thought about hypnotherapy, but that would make sense if we determine this is more an issue of bad habits than poor food choices.

My younger brother was always the eat-whatever-you-want-and-never-gain-an-ounce kid--he weighed 72 pounds for three years straight, in spite of the fact that he ate whole bags--as in, family-size bags--of Doritos at one sitting. Meanwhile, I was the kid to whom my mother would say "Do you really think you need those potato chips?" This is yet another reason why I'm sensitive about my son's weight issues--I don't want him to grow up feeling self-conscious about his perfectly normal body, especially when he's such an amazing little person. (For his birthday this year, he asked if we could donate money to an organization that was working to save the animals left homeless by Hurricane Katrina rather than buying him presents. All together now: "Awwwww . . .") I suppose the easiest thing to do, as some people have suggested, is to keep the "bad" treats out of the house altogether. But then what happens when my son encounters them at school, or at a friend's house? Part of my job, I think, is teaching him how to handle the bad stuff when it's around--with moderation aforethought. One of the lessons I finally, finally learned in my last (and most successful) encounter with Weight Watchers is that denying myself the "bad" stuff only makes it that much more desirable; letting myself have a small portion of whatever I want isn't going to hurt anything, and it prevents the inevitable backlash wherein I eat an entire pint of lowfat frozen yogurt to appease my sense of having been deprived. On the question of physical activity: we tried karate, assuming it to be the thinking boy's sport, and it worked until my son discovered that sparring was going to involve being hit in addition to hitting his opponents. So much for that. Swimming is his superjock sister's sport--plus, he has issues with recurring ear infections, so being in the water isn't a great option. And he can't yet ride a bike. (I was worried about this until I discovered that our across-the-street neighbor, who's ten, also hasn't yet mastered this skill.) I like the idea of getting him involved with the dog-walking, which could easily become one of his after-school responsibilities. Thanks again for all the support and good suggestions here. I'm listening and taking it all to heart--and glad to know I'm not the only parent out here struggling with this issue.

I knew I could count on you guys for fabulous suggestions. Keep 'em coming! A few changes I'd made in our eating habits even before we saw the doctor: switching to sugar-free versions of frozen treats (usually I buy the sugar-free Whole Fruit bars, but occasionally popsicles or ice cream bars instead); buying smaller packages of "bad" treats, to keep them under control (like the 100-calorie packs of Chips Ahoy); and cutting waaaaaay back on the fruit juice. My kids are now limited to one cup a day, which they can enjoy with breakfast or as an after-school treat. No one has complained about this yet. These changes made an immediate difference, but it seems we've hit a plateau and need to move on to the next level. I like the idea of finding a cookbook with healthy recipes that appeal to my son. Now that I think about it, he was the one who discovered our favorite recipe for banana pancakes. Maybe getting him involved with the cooking is part of the solution.

I'm writing in sheer desperation today, with the hope that the supportive eGullet community I've seen helping others can help me as well. Here's the scoop: my darling son, age eight, had a routine physical last week. He's big for his age (nearly as tall as his 11-year-old sister), but that doesn't explain his noticeable belly. Our doctor is great--he had a nice conversation about healthy eating with my son, without mentioning the weight issue at all. I asked a roundabout question, not wanting to mention it either--I said something like "Are there any health issues I should be concerned about?" The doctor's reply was "Not right now, but if this doesn't resolve itself in a couple of years, then yes." On the one hand, I know a couple of years can make an enormous difference: a friend's two sons were overweight as grade schoolers and are now, somehow, tall and thin men young men. But I don't want to sit around and hope my son grows into his weight. I want to do what I can to make sure he doesn't carry this problem with him throughout his life, as both his father and I have. I also know I'm the parent here. I know where I've fallen down on the job: I was in grad school and insanely busy when my kids were toddlers, so Happy Meals and frozen dinners were part of the menu a little too often. Still, as a baby, my son happily ate sweet potatoes until he turned himself yellow; now, I can't get him to touch them. Left to his own devices (which he never is, of course), the boy would eat cheeseburgers, french fries and pizza at every meal. On top of this, he's not an athletic kid; his interests lean toward reading and drawing. I took him hiking yesterday, but getting him out of the house was no small feat. In the midst of all this, my daughter has somehow grown up to be a pathologically healthy eater and an amazing athlete. (We're still not quite sure where she came from.) I'm happy to make meals that please her, but this leaves my son without a thing on his plate that's appealing to him. I don't want him to grow up thinking of healthy eating as a kind of deprivation; that's what led to the weight problem I'm finally in control of now. But I also don't want to cater to his limited palate, especially when that would mean offering up unhealthy meals just for the sake of making him (briefly) happy. How to get him to enjoy making healthier choices, so he'll do it more often? That's the rub. Any and all advice is much appreciated.

I'm not a fan of spaghetti squash treated as spaghetti (with tomato sauce, for instance), but it's very good if treated as itself. My favorite way to prepare it is to bake the squash as usual; separate the strands and toss them with some mushrooms and onions sauteed in butter. Stir in about a cup of ricotta cheese and about a cup of mozzarella, some fresh basil, and put the whole goopy mess in a buttered casserole dish. Bread crumbs and fresh pepper on top (be generous). Bake at 350 until it's bubbly, about half an hour. Works as a side or an entree, depending on the size of your portion.