Redeeming Love & Stories – Backdoor Hospitality

The NEW Adam Restores

You do not desire a sacrifice or I would offer one.

You do not want a burnt offering.

The sacrifice you desire is a broken spirit.

You will not reject a broken and repentant heart, O God.

–Psalm 51:16 & 17

At the breakfast table, Tay has realized she enjoys scrambled eggs more than eggs with yolk, while V is ritualistic with her two eggs with yolk. I sit with my triple shot Americano, splash of HWC and eggs. I open up the yellow book. We know it as the Jesus Storybook Bible.

We finished reading from the beginning to the end in the Fall, and I recently picked it back up. Just days before Ash Wednesday, we read of Eve believing the serpent’s lies and falling prey to facade of glory he would offer her. The girls asking questions about the fruit, the snake, why they would have to leave the garden, and the sadness in God’s heart.

When Your Advent is non-Pinterest Worthy

This is a two part story, so be sure to read it in its entirety, in order to get the full picture. If you connect with this, please pass it along. Upon waking, we open the hand woven advent calendar as my girls eyes peer with anticipation of the coming day’s event.Continue reading “When Your Advent is non-Pinterest Worthy”

Where is Shalom in Your Christmas?

Thanksgiving is over, Christmas season is in full-swing, which inevidently brings a shower of expectations. You may have felt it in the days leading up to Turkey Day with making sure the food was just right, and the table fell out of an Entertaining magazine. Too often, we find ourselves bustling about to fulfillContinue reading “Where is Shalom in Your Christmas?”

My Eyes Lift To the Hills

Jumping, lifting, pulling, slamming. These movements came from returning to the gym yesterday. One thing that has been hard after my miscarriage is returning to the gym. Perfectionism spills out when I never knew it was lingering. It doesn’t measure up, considering I don’t feel the need to do everything just right. I’m okayContinue reading “My Eyes Lift To the Hills”

Redeeming the Table on Food

How do I gather up my soul & mind, my convictions & biblical truth, my body & my appetite and bring it all together to formulate a succinct take on food? Of so many things that are debated & argued over, food is central to so many of them. We can see this withContinue reading “Redeeming the Table on Food”

A Longing Heart for Overworked Lungs & Sweat

I’ve been sick. Sick as in, “Can a cold really be worse than the flu?” sick. Body aching, fatigue & incoherent. Yet, I have thoughts, reflections & lots of posts I want to write about. Yet…I have no energy to write them. I wanted my next post to be about why food is integralContinue reading “A Longing Heart for Overworked Lungs & Sweat”

Casimir Pulaski Day & My Firstborn

I’m an auditory learner. I thought I was a visual, but realized today I’ve misdiagnosed myself. This would make sense for my love of music, learning all the lines of the play I was in in third grade, & my ability to repeat most things when put to song or via storytelling.
Music..it’s a powerful tool, which is innate to most humans. It stirs emotion in the deep crevices of our life. It reminds us where we were & what we were feeling when a specific song is playing. It brings people together & tears others apart. I received my degree in History with an emphasis in Early Modern Europe. In fact, my thesis was on the complications music brought into the newly formed Protestant Church (tore people apart & brought others together).
Well, for me music is everything beautiful, sweet & good. I’m listening to Sufjan Steven’s ‘Casimir Pulaski Day.’ This song floods my mind & my heart with some of life’s deepest of emotions.
Ben had just bought Steven’s album “Come On Feel the Illinoise.”. It was late December of 2006 & I was about 38 weeks pregnant with our first child. Not quite knowing then how life altering giving birth would be, then mix in bringing a baby home whom you’d be responsible for it’s sustenance (makes for mental instability at times).
This album played non-stop. As I drove in the car, listened to my MP3 player, & when we were at home together. The song talks about a young girl getting cancer of the bone, which is depressing, especially when you’re husband points out after our daughter is born, “This song makes me sad, because I think of our daughter dying.” not really what you want to tell a postpartum mama.
But, this song now reminds me of how quickly she’s grown up. There have been times when I wished, “if only this could go more quickly!”. I’m reminded of all the fear I felt as a new mama, not knowing how I would make it through her first week, how I was going to get her to latch on…or…how would I make it through the dark night. I recall days just prior to sunset praying, “God, you’re my strength, I believe but help my unbelief,” over & over. I mustered all I could to not cry & think, “I don’t love her like Ben does, but I’m her mama.”
So as I listen to this song, I think of that scared mama sitting in the bathroom crying. I think of missing out on the beauties of my firstborn’s first weeks & how I wish I could take it back. But more importantly, which is now, I think of my dear, sweet, one of kind dreamer, firstborn daughter who will be three years too soon and how I want to bundle her up to stop her growing. I want to always hold her like I did the first day I met her. I want to cherish her beauty, her intellect, her quirks…everything that makes her the original handiwork the good Lord made.
This is what music does to me. It stirs up strong & powerful images, feelings, emotions, smells, tastes…creating stories for my life’s storybook.And I guess that’s why her middle name is Storey, which means ‘strong & powerful.’

Thankfulness Squash Galette

It’s almost Thanksgiving and I really should be in bed. However, since I’m at my in-laws house, I know I get to sleep in. I’ve been extremely blessed with loving in-laws who are also amazing grandparents. They have a rule, which is one I affirm wholeheartedly, “Parents get to sleep in while they take care of the grandkids.” I am thankful.

And I know it’s Thanksgiving, to which we are to be grateful for all the many blessings we’ve been given; however, life happens at the most inopportune times and you’re not always handed something to be thankful about. I received some news which is discouraging and causes me to think with a fatalistic fear. I’m not gifted with optimism the majority of the time. And although I would say my glass is half full, this doesn’t equate with walking around thinking I can tackle anything and keep truckin’.

I’m at first glance an optimist fatalist, because I’m an extrovert who is over dramatic. I see the best in the outcome, but I get caught up in the path to get there at times. Ultimately, I need to remember that I am not savior and rely on one who is. Life is hard enough without having a savior complex. What…with being a mom, a wife, a friend, a daughter, a sister, etc., is enough in and of itself. I’m only required to live in this moment and do what I’m called to do. My job is not to be the perfect mom. Or to cook the perfect meals. Or to carry others burdens/issues. I don’t have to live up to expectations that others have set for me or even ones I’ve set for myself.

And in a world where we compare everything and everyone, it can be pretty damn hard. Where our children are compared to one another from day one based on their weight & length. Where mothers ask other mothers what “percentile” their child falls (maybe to feel good that their child is a bit bigger and doing “better”). Where smart is based on knowing your ABC’s, speaking in fluent tongue, or excelling in ‘quantifiable’ means. Where beauty is measured based on waist size & symmetrically aligned faces.

Yet, in the midst of all the reasons aforementioned (and then some), I can take solace in what the prophet Zephaniah spoke to Israel many, many moons ago:

Sing, O Daughter of Zion;
shout aloud, O Israel!
Be glad and rejoice with all your heart,
O Daughter of Jerusalem!

The LORD has taken away your punishment,
he has turned back your enemy.

The LORD, the King of Israel, is with you;

never again will you fear any harm.

On that day they will say to Jerusalem,
“Do not fear, O Zion;

do not let your hands hang limp.

The LORD your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
he will quiet you with his love,
he will rejoice over you with singing.”

I like knowing that I am to “shout…rejoice with all my heart,” because He “delights” in me, he “quiets” my whole being with “his love,” and he “rejoices over me with singing.” It gives me a picture of my daughter happily singing (in and out of tune) with complete abandon through the living room. It brings me joy & I fully delight, or enjoy her…for her. And when she’s upset, or hurt, or even quietly in my lap…I get to shower my songs upon her. And oh my, it brings her peace in the midst of a storm feeling. Thankfulness…it’s knowing that type of peace in eye of the storm, and choosing to see the good in the midst of it. So for that…I am thankful for this day the Lord has made.

If you’re wanting to add some tangible thankfulness to your day (or someone else), then this galette is definitely high on the list. Happy Thanksgiving!

Butternut Squash Galette & Delicata Squash Galette (printable recipe)

This pastry crust is courtesy of Epicurious. I needed to make two Galettes, so I doubled the pastry ingredients below. I also used 3/4 butternut squash for one galette and 1/4 for the other galette. The crust was flaky, savory & sublime. I love these for their versatility and improvisation.

For pastry:

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 tablespoon chopped sage leaves
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
4 to 6 tablespoons ice-cold water
1 large egg, lightly beaten

For butternut squash filling:

1 (2-pound) butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 2- by 1/4-inch slices (4 cups) **reserve about 1/4 of it for other galette if making it.
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium sized shallot
4 ounces soft mild goat cheese
4 ounces soft cream cheese
1 egg

Make dough:
Pulse flour, butter, sage, and sea salt in a food processor until mixture resembles coarse meal. Drizzle ice water evenly over mixture and pulse until it just forms a ball. (Do not overwork dough, or pastry will be tough.) Gently press dough into a 5-inch disk and chill, wrapped in plastic wrap, until firm, at least 1 hour.

Make filling while dough chills:
Preheat oven to 500°F with rack in middle.

Toss squash with sea salt and 1 Tbsp oil and arrange in 1 layer in a 17-by 12-inch shallow baking pan. Roast, stirring once halfway through roasting, until golden brown on edges and undersides, 20 to 25 minutes. Remove squash from oven and reduce oven temperature to 375°F.

Meanwhile, saute shallots in 1 tablespoons oil with a pinch of sea salt in a 10-inch heavy skillet over medium heat, until tender, about 3 minutes. Transfer to a small bowl to cool slightly. Combine goat cheese, cream cheese & egg in a small bowl. Mix to combine.

Make galette:
Roll out dough into a 13-inch round on a lightly floured surface with a lightly floured rolling pin. Transfer to a baking sheet. Spread out cheese filling in center of dough. Dump about 3/4 of butternut squash on top, along with shallots, leaving a 2- to 3-inch border. Fold dough in on itself to cover outer rim of filling, pleating dough as necessary. Put a few sage leaves on top, drizzle with olive oil & sprinkle with sea salt. Brush pastry with beaten egg and bake galette until crust is cooked through and golden on edges, 35 to 45 minutes. Cool on baking sheet on a rack 10 minutes before serving.

Delicata-Butternut Squash with Kale Galette: there’s no need to peel the delicata, because it’s skin is tender upon roasting and is easily eaten.

1 delicata squash
olive oil for drizzling delicata
sea salt for sprinkling delicata
1/4 of above cooked butternut squash
1 medium shallot (I cooked 2 shallots and divided them between the two recipes)
3 kale leaves, vein removed & chopped into bite sized pieces
1 Tablespoon olive oil
5 ounces goat cheese

Cut ends off of delicata. Scoop out seeds & pulp. Cut into 1/4 inch rings, then cut into half moons. Place on a baking sheet lined with parchment. Drizzle with olive oil & sprinkle with sea salt. Roast at 450 for roughly 15 minutes. They don’t take that long. Cool.

Meanwhile, saute kale in 1 tablespoon of olive oil till tender. You may need to add more oil or even some water. Remove to a small bowl and set aside. Saute chopped up half moon shallots in 2 teaspoons olive oil for 1 minute or so. Remove to small bowl.

Combine the delicata squash, 1/4 leftover of cooked butternut squash, cooked shallot, & kale together. Roll out your dough following instructions above, drop goat cheese throughout the center of the rolled out galette. Arrange the vegetables on top of the goat cheese lined crust. Fold dough in on itself to cover outer rim of filling, pleating dough as necessary. Brush pastry with beaten egg and bake galette until crust is cooked through and golden on edges, 35 to 45 minutes. Cool on baking sheet on a rack 10 minutes before serving.

P.A.C. Crisp (pear, apple, cranberry)

Crisp ala mode, what could be better?

Yesterday we had an Autumn Family gathering with the other families from our playgroup we go to Thursday mornings. I made this delicious crisp, along with the help of my trusty 2.75 year old assistant. I have to say that this crisp is exceptionally tasty. No, let’s not kid ourselves…it’s a complete foreshadow of everything Autumn (which is a GOOD thing indeed).

I was looking for something rustic, simple, and a ‘knock your socks off type of good,’ to make for dessert. I actually had never made it before, but I knew my Ina Garten hadn’t let me down so far, and her Barefoot Contessa at Home cookbook would for sure have a crisp recipe. I made a few adjustments from the original recipe, by using rapadura sugar, whole wheat pastry flour, using cranberries instead of dried, and adding cardamom (since there was orange in the recipe, cardamom screamed to be used). All of these made it taste great, especially the addition of cardamom.

The pears, apples, & cranberries sitting in sugary, spicy goodness.

Since my two year old helped make the crisp, she couldn’t stop talking about it the rest of the afternoon. The party was at 4:00 and she still needed to take a nap. She had a bit of a meltdown when I informed her that we weren’t going to the party quite yet, because she needed to take a nap. Her eyes quickly filled up with tears and some speaking in tongues began, to which effect something about not being able to eat the crisp was murmured. Poor girl, she even got a bit anxious as we were walking up to our friend’s door, where she looked around for the crisp then blurted with panic, “CRISP! CRISP?” And yes, she was the only kid at the dinner table eating her crisp after dinner, while all the others were playing downstairs (Then, was it bad to serve this for breakfast to her? I did put my foot down and say no to the ice cream she requested).

The crumb crust before entering the oven. Yes it’s a lot of topping, but keep piling it on.

And it must be said that I adore all of these ladies whom I get to share life with (almost) every week. We have been meeting weekly since just after V’s first birthday, which is almost two years now. I love how we have our similarities and differences, yet we still choose to be more than co-mothers, but friends. Each one of them brings a different gift to my life as a woman, wife & mom. There isn’t judgment on how we parent different or how we fail, but grace, because we understand (period). I also love how everyone is real & genuine. No one comes in with a, “Wow, I LOVE being a mother every second of the day (or everyday for that matter).” But there’s also not this, “Whoa, I hate being a mom and my kid is a….”

Instead, it’s a sincerity and a realness of “this mothering/parenting job is hard, and I don’t always like it, and I’m not going to be fake and make you think it’s the best job in the whole world 100% of the time. But I do value something higher, which means I will give up some of my rights, in order to provide my children with something greater. I not only value something higher, but love these stinkers so deep it hurts and am willing to go above & beyond for them.” That’s who these women are to me and I love them for it. So thanks Biz, Lindsey, Becky, Christine, Bethany, Megan & Talia–my Thursday mornings (although always running late & a bit disheveled) are my diamond in the rough as a stay at home mom and you ladies’ bring out a different spectrum of light in my diamond.

Last year’s Halloween party before many of the siblings were born.

P.A.C. Crisp (pear, apple, cranberry) (printable recipe)

Recipe is adapted from the Barefoot Contessa at Home cookbook. **A little side note: If you’re not familiar with other sugars like rapadura, I would encourage you to start baking & cooking with them. I get mine from the bulk section at our local Co-op, which is cheaper than buying it pre-packaged in the health/natural section of your grocery store.** The recipe also called for Macoun apples, but I used what I had on hand and I’m not too particular when the recipe calls for say ‘Granny Smith.’ Instead, I use what I know could create a good end product and wouldn’t dissolve into mush (say Red Delicious). My apples came from a friend’s tree, so I have no idea what they are called.

Ingredients:

3 ripe Bosc pears

5 apples (I have no idea what kind I used)

3/4 cup frozen cranberries (that’s what I had on hand, but you could use fresh)

1 teaspoon grated orange zest

1 teaspoon grated lemon zest

Squeezed juice of one orange

Squeezed juice of one lemon

1/2 cup evaporated cane juice sugar (this is sugar which is less refined and has a golden color to it)

1/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom

Topping:

1 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/2 cup rapadura sugar (however, I know most people don’t have this, so do 3/4 of the above sugars)

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 cup old-fashioned oats

1/2 pound (2 sticks) unsalted butter

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Peel and core the pears & apples. Cut them into large chunks. Put the fruit into a large bowl, toss with cranberries, zests, juices, sugar, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, & cardamom. Pour into a 9×13 baking dish.

For the topping, combine the flour, sugars, salt, oatmeal and cold butter in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. Mix on low speed for 1 to 2 minutes, or until the mixture is in large crumbles. Sprinkle evenly over the fruit, covering the fruit completely. You’ll notice that this is a lot of crisp topping, but keep packing it on and you won’t be disappointed.

Place the baking dish on a parchment-lined sheet pan. Bake for 50 minutes to 1 hour, until the top is brown and the fruit is bubbly. Serve warm (with vanilla ice cream to live on the wild side).

Maybe sitting by the fire eating the crisp with this little cutie could be better.

Juxtaposition

My mom is a woman who’s been through a lot of trials in her 53 years of life. We’ve bumped heads as we are similar in many ways, but we have also laughed, cried & encouraged one another through some pretty hard patches. And through our similarities there are of course the differences we hold. I (as you know) love love love to bake and love love to cook (bake is higher on the list), but my mom not so much. My mom love love loves to talk on the phone, and actually I’m not the biggest fan. I know she would say how I raise my girls, love my husband and tend to household duties is completely opposite to how she did those things when she was my age.

And although she didn’t necessarily teach me how to organize like Martha Stewart would have to her daughter (thank God), I would say my mom gave me gifts through her actions (those that surpass magazine covers or tangible sensibilities in Better Home & Garden magazines). Instead, she taught me what hospitality looked like (even though I didn’t know it was called that). Because my mom wasn’t the (and isn’t) type to say, “see, what I’m doing is called this…(fill in the blank).” She was simplistic in her love and grace to others (she’d probably disagree being hard on herself and call herself judgmental, but she always asked us kids for forgiveness when she was in the wrong).

I can recall my mom being the only parent who welcomed in kids to our home who were unwelcome in other “church” families’ homes. She had/has the knack of befriending just about anyone and “the least of these” are drawn to my mother. She loves without pretense and gives the benefit of the doubt. It’s the people who most of society, if they were honest with themselves, wouldn’t really want to hang out with or associate with. It’s what some might call ‘white trash, Walmart shopping, trailer park residing, welfare living, food stamp eating’ sort of people. I’m thankful for her goodness as she loves like Jesus, while providing me an example of how to love. She is so good about this and I find it to be a virtuous trait.

Christine Pohl, author of Making Room wrote:

Followers of Christ should offer a generous welcome to “the least of these,” without concern for advantage or benefit to the host. Because hospitality is a way of life, it must be cultivated over a lifetime. We do not become good at hospitality in an instant; we learn it in small increments of daily faithfulness. Hospitality is difficult because it involves hard work. People wear out and struggle with limits. Our society places a high value on control, planning, and efficiency, but hospitality is unpredictable and often inefficient. We insist on measurable results and completed tasks, but the results of hospitality are impossible to quantify and the work of hospitality is rarely finished.

One thing I think Pohl left out was, “Hospitality is messy.” It’s untamable, much like Aslan being described in the Chronicles of Narnia (who is the Christ figure in the series). We cannot guarantee that we will love every minute. We cannot control who it is that we are being called to show hospitality to in reality. And this is why hospitality is not entertainment. It’s not about having matching silverware and placemats, a fancy meal, or the best home to showcase it all in. That’s what Fine Living would tell you, but it’s the picture Jesus painted in his parable of having a fine feast inviting all the finest people in the land. However, none of them came. So the host went out & invited the ‘least of these’ from the streets to wine & dine at his feast (juxtaposition). He took any focus off himself to lavish it upon his guests. Making them the star.

So I ask myself (and my family), ‘how do we live in juxtaposition?’ I choose messy & unfinished, much like parenting right:) What do you do to live in juxtaposition? live in the messy & unfinished (‘rarely finished’)?