To Duck the Duck Egg-or not.

Hi, this is Izzy's Mama's best friend who is going to occasionally guest blog for Izzy's Mama while she is recovering from surgery. I can tell you that she really appreciates all of the good thoughts and wishes coming her way. I am told she will need to be on a low fat diet for a month (less than 20 grams of fat a day). So feel free to post some yummy low fat recipes or treat ideas.

The Sunday before Izzy's mama's surgery, I went to her house to help out with some chores because she was not feeling well. When it was lunch time, I offered to make Izzy's lunch. Izzy's Mama actually agreed to this offer so she really must not have been feeling well. We trudged down to the kitchen and Izzy's Mama took out a carton of duck eggs and a stick of butter. She sat down at the kitchen table and said "Have you ever used a cast iron pan? It is very good for you because you get iron in your food." While I have a cast iron pan at home and have used it a few times, I probably never used it correctly and besides I thought to myself I did not want to know my pan was leaching metals into my food. So I just sorted of grunted a response. Izzy's Mama, safely assuming that to be a "No", explained "You must heat the cast iron pan for 3 minutes or else the butter will turn brown." Perish the thought. I went to turn on the vintage stove and when I did not get a flame, Izzy's Mama said, "You need to blow on the burner." What! I need to turn on the gas and then put my face to the burner and blow? Is she crazy? Does she have good insurance? But throwing caution and all my common sense to the wind for I was now in Izzy's Mama's world, I forged ahead anyway, putting my face (with much trepidation) in the vicinity of the burner and blowing and blowing. Nothing. I immediately thought about throwing in the towel at this point and was starting to look around for some peanut butter when Izzy's Mama innocently volunteered "You can also use the igniter thing on top of the fridge". You have to be kidding me. I then successfully lit the burner, put a pat of butter in the cast iron pan and waited to 3 minutes. Then I took a look at those duck eggs.

They were about twice the size of a chicken egg. Izzy's Mama said Izzy likes his eggs "over easy". Okay, I thought. I can do this. I grabbed an egg from the carton and as I was about to smash that egg on the rim of the pan, Izzy's Mama blurted out, "Izzy will not eat that egg if you break the yolk." Thanks for the tip, Izzy's Mama. I gingerly tapped the egg on the rim of the pan. Nothing. I applied more force. Still nothing. I pounded the egg against the rim of the pan (who knew duck eggs shells are harder and thicker than chicken egg shells) until I made a dent in the shell. I kept banging away until I created a little crack and then I wedged my finger in the crack and ripped the egg apart. By some miracle, the yolk did not break. I grabbed a spatula from a container of utensils on the stove and just as I was going to flip the egg, Izzy's Mama cried out "Oh no, that spatula is too thick you need the one in the drain board." I had previously been warned not to over cook the egg because Izzy likes to break the yolk with his bread. I dashed to the drain board, grabbed the spatula and ran back and flipped the egg. Although I have cooked eggs before, I confess that I have never cooked a duck egg and I have never cooked an egg under the watchful and expert eye of Izzy's Mama. I was scared. So I grabbed a pot holder and lugged the cast iron pan over to where Izzy's Mama sat to show her my creation and to ask for her blessing. She decreed "a little longer" and waved me off. With a sigh of relief, I finally put that egg on a plate, took a piece of bread and buttered it with butter from the stick of butter still out on the table. My relief was short lived because Izzy's Mama looked at me woefully and said "That butter is for cooking. We have different butter for eating." At that point I just ignored Izzy's Mama and called Izzy to the table. I am happy to report that the yolk was appropriately runny and Izzy ate the whole thing including the incorrectly buttered bread. Izzy's Mama and I each had a fried duck egg. She likes hers prepared the same way that Izzy does. I like mine well done. I found the duck egg to be oddly sweet but tasty. Izzy's Mama says they are $1.00 an egg at Whole Foods. Thanks a bunch to Izzy's Mama for introducing me to duck eggs.

Better Left Unsaid? On Last Suppers And Other Morbid Thoughts

After much hesitation I have decided to share why it is I have not been blogging, given that it somewhat easier for me to write than to tell...

How many of you have joked around about what you would eat if you only had one meal left?

I know I have. During just such conversations I have conjured up deliciously rich meals of grilled lamb chops, potatoes gratin or perfectly roasted duck with crispy potatoes, goat cheese salad with lardons and a creamy chocolate dessert. Yet now, when faced with the strange reality of possibly only having a limited number of meals left before major surgery and not even being that hungry, I don't even know what to ask for.

One thing that came to mind was moose. Not because I have an especial fondness for moose but simply because I have never tasted it . Besides, B. from Wasilla was kind enough to send some to me and I figured I'd better try it while I still had the chance, as B. made it sound like one has lived til one has tried moose

But before I ramble on about moose and last suppers, which are certainly far more amusing then that which I feel compelled to report, I must tell of the ill-fate that has led me to do so. My poor health over the past several months has finally led me down a path upon which I never expected to find myself. The past few weeks have been filled with CT Scans, MRIs, doctor visits and a disturbing diagnosis. The tests have shown a rather large mass on one of my ovaries and there is a strong suspicion I may have ovarian cancer. I am scheduled for surgery this Wednesday and I am terrified to say the least.

I am trying not to worry about how Izzy will be and what he will eat without me (he has never spent a night without me) and instead focus on what I need to do to get well but it isn't easy. I have been preparing Izzy for my surgery little by little. First I told him that there is "something bad in my stomach that needs to come out". Then I mentioned the word "operation" and he wanted to know if it would be like the operation the kitties had, "where they take out their girl parts." Apparently I didn't need to do as much explaining as I thought I would.

As for eating, well I can't do that much of it. A few small meals a day are about all I can take. Moose sliders last night (very lean and tasty, but a bit overcooked, will have to try again) Vietnamese food tonight and not sure what my last meal will be for tomorrow night. The day before the surgery I need to go on a 24 hour clear liquid diet. D. of "real milk" fame and the doyenne of stock-making, was kind enough to stop by today with three types of stock. My friend L., was surprised to read the label on one which said, "Beef Hoof"; the others were beef and chicken/turkey. Those should keep me nourished, along with some tea and apple juice.

Once the surgery is over, I will find out what happens next. Whatever it is , I hope to make it through so that Izzy has his mama for as long as possible.

Much Awaited Milestone: One Tooth Gone...

Though this is already old news it has to be documented before the next one comes out!

Izzy was the last of his friends to finally lose a tooth. It happened December 14th, after days of anticipation. For what seemed like weeks on end, he wiggled and jiggled it with his tongue, showing off its looseness to all who could stomach it. His Papa couldn't bear the sight of the tooth and would run off in horror, whereas I was reminded of the enjoyable days of my own tooth wiggling.

It was only after a Chinese dinner with D. the dentist (his new pal) that the tooth began to hang by a thread. The following morning, a crust of toast did the trick and the tooth landed on Izzy's breakfast plate.

That night, the Tooth Fairy came with two dollars but Izzy insisted he knew it was me. No fooling him.

Snow Storm = Snow Frolic? Not so much...

In a perfect world, Izzy would have awakened to the quiet snow white wonderland surrounding us, eagerly awaiting his moment to escape and frolic in the powdery yard. Instead he awoke to the sounds of our neighbors shoveling. In fact he bounded in to announce that five of our neighbors (not yet 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning, mind you) were already out shoveling their sidewalks.

Meanwhile I was roused by the same sounds and the dread of having to join them. It's not that I particularly mind shoveling snow but I am not especially good at it and for some reason, my shovel never seems to work as well as theirs (maybe I ought to do some shovel research....). In any case, Izzy agreed to postpone breakfast (an extremely rare occurrence) in order to join me. And that was the worst part. Poor Izzy did not have snow boots, having outgrown his pair from last year, all he had to wear were some spring rain boots or a pair of sneakers. I opted for the boots with double socks and we bundled up and went outside. We shoveled until Izzy managed to fill his knee high boots with snow. I sent him inside to watch from the window and after repeated pleas to come in for breakfast, I gave up and joined him. It felt so nice to be inside, sipping tea and feasting on eggs, beans and toast, our Sunday ritual.

Later that morning, we had to go outside again to visit my friend's cats and since his rain boots were now soaked, he had no choice but to wear his sneakers. Along the way, we happened upon a woman ( heretofore unknown to me) shoveling the sidewalk down the block. She asked him where his boots were and I (already annoyed that the poor thing had to go outside in sneakers), nastily replied that he didn't have any. She added this helpful tidbit which made me want to throttle her, "This is the North East. He needs snow boots." I thanked her ever so kindly(if kindness is seething that is) for that advice and we went on our way. Fact was, we had gone out Saturday in search of snow boots but the Newport Mall was of no use and we came home empty-handed.

Our day may not have begun on exactly the note I had imagined but all was not lost in the end, for the rain boots dried up from our morning shovel. Izzy put them on once again for a late afternoon romp in our backyard snowdrifts while I plotted a jaunt to NYC to buy new snow boots, first thing Monday morning.

What Has Izzy Been Eating? Indeed !

After a long and unintended hiatus, I finally found myself at the Wednesday Union Square Market last week. So nice to be back amongst the local fruits, vegetables and cheese, whether I can eat them or not. I made my way over to 3-Corner Field Farm where I was heartily greeted by the sheep lady who noted my absence. I explained that I hadn't been feeling well and hadn't been cooking or eating much lately. She immediately asked about Izzy and what he had been eating. "What about your blog? Have you been posting, "Izzy eats nothing?" My quick reply, much to her dismay, was that we had been eating takeout. She would be relieved to hear that when I stopped to think about it more, I realized we haven't been eating it much more than usual.

Furthermore, Izzy has been eating and lots. I just haven't been posting. Weeks of meals and tidbits have vanished without a written trace. But others do live on in memories, photographic and otherwise.

There was a homemade soup with Udon noodles, a warm and comforting treat made by a friend...



And there was the excitement of trying something new...Izzy was the perfect Raclette participant. I love it myself but could merely nibble...



There was also a memorable take-out meal. City Bakery take-out that is. Macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, accompanied by a spinach salad I made at home.



And then there were many many potato latkes, which I churned out for Izzy's class at school, with the kind assistance of D., another mom. That day I was surrounded by an oily halo and the odor remained in my house for days. No Hanukkah party at home this year but at least I managed to make the latkes.

And so it goes...despite my eating woes, trying to get back into the blogging and cooking mode. There were other milestones and other recipes which are deserving of their own posts and I hope to get to those promptly!

Encourage Healthy Eating: Jump With Jill!

Looking for ways to inspire your child to crave healthier foods? Jump with Jill does just that. Jill is a locally based "rockstar nutritionist" whose catchy lyrics will have your child bopping to tunes that foster healthy eating habits. Izzy and I saw her at Made With Love Organics several months ago and he has been bouncing to her music ever since.

Jump With Jill will be at Made With Love this afternoon, from 4:30 - 6:30. Even though healthy eating begins at home, it's always helpful to get some outside inspiration which Jill can certainly provide!

What's On Your Plate? Brooklyn Kitchen's Kids' Day

In search of a food activity geared toward kids? Check out Brooklyn Kitchen's very first Kids' Day. This Saturday, December 5, they will be showing a screening of the film, "What's on Your Plate?" A film for and about kids, as the learn about where food comes from. Snacks will be on hand and a discussion will follow, along with a talk with the butcher about where hot dogs really come from.

Perhaps Izzy and I will see you there!