Jiaozi

Home cooking

Saturday night, May had a birthday sleepover party with seven of her friends. At her request, for dinner I cooked stir-fried beef strips and green peppers with rice and fruit salad. I thought, why doesn't she just have pizza like everyone else? But she insisted that's what she wanted.

When I called the girls to the table, I could hear them chatting on their way up the stairs and into the dining room.

"Oh my gosh, that smells so good!"

"My house never smells like that."

"My house just smells like fast food!"

They gobbled it down (I served the rice and beef separately, in case anyone was vegetarian, but no one was). From the kitchen, I could hear them commenting on how good it tasted, and several of them even thanked me for the great dinner. Then they retired to the rec room for after-dinner Skittles and potato chips.

Seriously, I'm no Martha Stewart. I make a few dishes pretty well, and the beef stir-fry dish -- which I sort of made up, though it is painfully simple -- is one of them. I buy the meat already cut up, because I'm lazy that way.

And I know that people are really busy with work and kids' activities and all, and after a long day the last thing you want to do is slave in the kitchen. There are times when it's all you can do to throw a Stouffer's lasagna in the microwave or drive past the window at McDonald's. I do it myself, and I'm in no position to cast aspersions on anyone's domestic skills.

But. If children are greeting the simplest of home-cooked dinners as if it were fine dining, I think something might be missing from their lives. Fast food is okay as an occasional treat, not as the foundation of anyone's diet.

I don't want anyone to feel bad. I just wanted to let you know that if you do cook for your family, they appreciate it, even if they don't always take the time to thank you.

(Also? Children are perfectly capable of learning how to cook. Abbey, Bess, and May can all whip up a palatable, even delicious, dinner from whatever ingredients we have on hand.)

Real food

I've been thinking a lot about eating and food lately. I mean, more than my usual "Is it time for tea and a little something?" sorts of thoughts.

It's part of the zeitgeist, I suppose. The question of what to eat is inescapable. I read my friends' blogs and they talk about baking their own bread and raising their own food. I read Barbara Kingsolver and think about eating locally grown food. I listen to Michael Pollan on The Daily Show and think about what it means to eat real food. I watch Morgan Spurlock and think about the addictive nature of fast food. I read the news and think about sustainability and hunger and nutrition. I watch Julie & Julia and read Julia Child and think about butter.

At the same time, I'm torn about questions of weight and body image. Impossibly skinny, artificially buxom young women are held up as role models to me and, worse, my daughters. On the other hand, obesity is, literally, epidemic in this country. I suspect that there is a connection between impossible ideals and poor self-esteem and bad eating. I want to explore that.

Like most women, I have a contentious relationship with food. I was raised on "health foods" -- my siblings and I were, I believe in retrospect, on a reduced-calorie diet throughout our childhoods -- and it turned me off food for a while. (All the women in my family have issues with weight, either too much or too little.) It's still hard for me to face a slice of whole-wheat bread because the bread of my childhood was like cardboard. But low-fat products are all I know. I don't think I ever saw a stick of real butter during the first 21 years of my life.

My kids are incredibly healthy and fit. They are genetically blessed. But we could all eat better. I am slowly making changes, based mostly on instinct. I am serving and cooking with real butter more often and relying on margarine less. I got real half-and-half to put in the coffee instead of nondairy creamer. I'm buying fewer reduced-fat products. I know, it seems counterintuitive, but I think that real is better. It takes less real cream to buffer coffee than it does fake cream. And most reduced-fat products, with the possible exception of skim milk, contain additives to make up for the lack of fat -- extra salt and sugar (in the form of high-fructose corn syrup) to enhance flavor, and chemicals to add thickness.

There are no artificial sweeteners in the house. Bess will drink an occasional diet root beer, but mostly I don't bother with sugar substitutes. I put sugar or honey in my tea. Obesity has skyrocketed in this country at the same time that sugar substitutes and reduced-fat products have flooded the grocery stores. Something is wrong with this picture. I want to know what.

I am serving more fresh fruits and vegetables. I'm baking more bread. I know I need to cook more from scratch. I made that pretty apple-cranberry pie at the left for Christmas. It was possibly the best pie I've ever eaten, if I do say so myself. (That may have had something to do with the brandy in it.) I'm a nervous cook and need more practice (and time). I want to have at least one meat-free day a week, but the kids are balking. It's a work in progress.

Now. Is it time for tea and a little something? I believe it is.