I had plans this morning to come here and share more ideas of what you can do with the cornmeal you undoubtedly ran out and bought so you could make cornbread. Instead, I am typing this from bed where I am also bidding goodbye to the last notions I had that I am not actually sick.

Another day, then, for the empanadas, cornmeal waffles, polenta, and spoonbread. Today my food concerns are a bit more pedestrian - what to feed the kids when thinking of food at all leads to unwelcome lurching in the mid-section?

There's always eggs and toast, of course, although I find that cooking eggs while I'm under the weather does nothing at all for improving my physical state. Buttered noodles work well, particularly rotini, the shape of which seems to distract the kids from noticing that I have neglected to add veggies or meat to the bowl (if I'm up to it, a generous sprinkling of grated Parmesan and some cracked black pepper in my bowl are wonderfully self-nurturing).

If soup is called for, I break out one of my boxes of pre-made broth. I do try to keep homemade on hand, but it's usually frozen so doesn't work well for last-minute needs. You can buy excellent organic veggie and chicken broths at many groceries these days, making them great pantry staples, so don't feel shy about keeping and using them. Heated broth with maybe some diced onion, frozen peas, a bit of kale and some of those teeny-tiny dried ravioli or tortellini make a great, last minute soup that's quick and delicious. You can also use celery, drained and rinsed beans, rice or anything at all that you have lying around and looks good and before you know it soup's on and you're off the hook for another few hours.

I've also been known to make beer bread, serve it warm and buttered along with applesauce or a clementine or something and call it a day (this approach has the added benefit of resulting in leftover bread, so you can serve it again the next day if events regrettably come to that). Because the bread has all of three ingredients it's crazy fast to make, the only requirement being that you need to remember to get it started a little more than an hour before you want it (maybe an hour and a half before, to include mixing and cooling time).

No matter what is served and no matter how it is made or procured, don't forget to include the kids in what you are doing and why. As impatient as you may feel and as intolerant of spills and dropsies as you might be (believe me, I have bitten my own tongue so often that it may well be perforated), tolerating kitchen mayhem now could lead to you one day hearing, as I did today, "Mommy, if you need to lie down it's o.k. I will pour Entropy Girl's juice and grind the coffee beans for you. Would you like some cinnamon toast?"

And with that, I feel better already.

I have a confession to make.

For all my enthusiasm about real cooking and baking from scratch (not to mention my zeal - bordering on the annoying, I realize - in encouraging others to do the same) I have long nursed a deep, dark secret that is in direct opposition to these ideals. I hope you will not think less of me when I reveal that...

...I use (and enjoy) those Jiffy corn muffin mixes. I've managed not to feel to much guilt about this, what with the mix priced at roughly 3 for a dollar and the fact that David Rosengarten himself once declared their perfection for certain applications (although plain old corn muffins weren't among them). Plus, the mix and its results clearly pass the Michael Pollan Great-great-grandmother food recognition test." With these justifications in my corner I could remain blissfully unrepentant.

Well, maybe not so blissful nor so unrepentant. The idea of homemade cornbread nagged at me. I knew that it would not be hard to make and I knew that I already had even single necessary ingredient in my kitchen. I wish I could say I also knew why I never actually made my own, but I do not. Last week I stumbled upon the push I needed.

I don't recall how I found Stop the Ride but I am glad that I did. Stephanie, bless her heart, is sponsoring a Make it From Scratch contest and upon reading her proposition I almost immediately came up with two ideas (one being cornbread and the other being a tutu for Entropy Girl, but that is a subject for another post).

And that is how I came to make cornbread.



To make a 9X9 pan of cornbread, mix well together one cup each of all-purpose flour and cornmeal, 1/3 cup white sugar, 4 teaspoons baking powder, 1 t. salt, 1 cup milk, 2 eggs and 1/4 cup softened butter. Pour batter into a prepared pan and bake for 20-25 minutes in a pre-heated 425 degree oven. The bread should be slightly golden brown on top and a skewer inserted into the center will come out clean. Allow to cool for 5 minutes or so before attempting to remove from the pan. This is nearly as fast, just as easy and even better tasting than the mix.

That I silenced that nagging voice reminding me that cornbread is easy and delicious is even more satisfying than this simple recipe. Oh, and if you're balking at purchasing cornmeal on the ground that it makes no sense to have a single-use ingredient on hand (a very logical argument) go ahead and buy some anyway and later this week we can talk about empanadas. In the meantime, enjoy the cornbread and the accompanying pleasure of having made it from scratch with your very own hands, no boxes involved.

Every now and again I take a long hard look at whatever it has been that's been making up our meals and think, "No. I simply cannot eat X, Y or Z again. Cannot". When this happens I actively set about introducing new dishes to my repertoire to stave off the boredom that is the bane of family cooks everywhere. About a year and a half ago, I banished risotto, swiss steak, and meatloaf from our table and substituted various kale- and chard-based dishes, bolognese sauced pastas, and vegetable curries. Past culinary love affairs included such things as quiche, stir fries, and pot pies. Once in college I was mid-bite from a plate of spaghetti con aglio e olio when I realized that I must stop eating spaghetti immediately. That was my last bite of the stuff for almost 8 years.

Now it's time to get rid of kale, bolognese and curry, at least as regulars. Part of the fun of replacing dishes in heavy-rotation is the experimentation before settling on whatever will become our new staples. At the moment I'm leaning heavily toward short ribs, pressed sandwiches and stuffed peppers. The options for all of these are virtually limitless and I confess that I am thinking of reviving a long-abandoned favorite in a new way - risotto stuffed bell peppers maybe? What about a leek and sundried tomato risotto in red peppers? Or pumpkin and feta version inside green ones? This, I think, has some possibilities.

In other news, I am somewhat relieved that Brainiac will be travelling over Valentine's Day. We've never made a big hairy deal about the day, maybe exchanging cards and favorite candies (I sometimes get an entire roll of chocolate Necco wafers, about which I feel endlessly spoiled) but then again maybe not. Despite our very casual approach to the day - which was true even in our dating and pre-kid years - I've always felt called upon to produce a special dinner for him, outside not only the realm of whatever our staple entrees might be but also whatever indulgences in which he might typically indulge.

So, as I like to do and will do with the flimsiest of excuses, I peruse all kinds of websites, magazines and books looking for the perfect Valentine's Day menu. The trouble is, so many of the "romantic" ingredients in heavy editorial rotation are things that he wouldn't touch if I paid him. Shellfish, mushrooms, asparagus, lamb, artichokes, runny cheeses, caviar, berries - all things he will not eat, full-stop, and all things that loom large in Valentine menus. So I try to punch up the things I know he likes and while very often he is thrilled (he is very much a man comforted by the familiar) I am usually nonplussed. But this year, he will be away and likely eating his dinner from the hospitality room of a conference center and I will be free to cook anything I want free of my self-imposed pressure to create some kind of chef d'oeuvre culinaire de l'amour.

I wonder what I could make myself for a solo Valentine's Day? Perhaps brie and mushroom canapes to start, followed by shrimp and scallops in a spicy cream sauce and finishing with raspberry coeur a la creme. Then again, perhaps takeout Chinese with the kids will be more my speed on the night in question.

Either way, I know I will miss Brainiac. Whatever I eat, it will be a poor substitute for a hug and a roll of chocolate Necco wafers.

Despite what she may have thought, I have not been trapped under a plate of scrapple.

There was the small matter of Entropy Girl's third birthday and its related cake requirements (white cupcakes with pink frosting for preschool and a chocolate layer cake with pink frosting for the family dinner), one work-related deadline (successfully met), one personal deadline (ditto) and then the general tidying up of an astonishingly large number of loose ends.

I find loose end tieing very satisfying. A needed signature acquired here, a file put to bed there...all very nice. So nice, in fact, that I have decided to impose a measure of my professional life onto our home environment, as they say. My work requires that I be very systematically organized and there are large risks involved in failing to dot an I or cross a T, as it were. Being on top of large numbers of very granular details brings me a particular kind of reward and I decided this week that I am also going to seek out similar pleasures at home.

To date, and I am planning to post pictures once I can wrest the camera from Braniac and his plans to document in minute detail his latest car restoration project, I have: place all my grains and starch-type products (barley, orzo, brown and white rices, TVP, popcorn, etc., etc., etc.) into matching and labeled containers, placed all baking supplies on one shelf, erected two shelving units in the kitchen to hold cookbooks, small appliances and baking dishes, created labeled bins for every toy category possible (Things That Roll, Space Stuff, Farm Stuff, Musical, and so on) and hung Entropy Girl's dresses by season and size.

This feels really, really good.