Cook once, eat twice: Kale Pesto

Having a newborn is rough.  The kid is now 21 months old and I already find myself forgetting how difficult it can be to have a brand new baby.  Having your first kid especially rocks your world.  I felt like my life turned upside down after the kid was born.  It took me over a year to really get my feet back under me. 

It's certainly a wild ride.  But one that is well worth it. 

We visited some friends today and their tiny 1 week old.  They look so tired and a little stunned.  I wanted to tell them that it gets better fast.  That life goes on a little bit at a time.  You have to learn to walk and talk again, but you keep moving forward.  And it gets so fun.  

But I don't think they could have understood.  They are too busy becoming the great parents they are going to be.  I think we all are.  

Those first few months feel like you are drowning.  And then it is wonderful (with periodic moments where you begin to drown again).

Parenthood is amazing!  I wouldn't go back if I could.  

Grilled Again Hawaiian Pizza

I used to be frightened of yeast.  I'm not quite sure why.  I vaguely recall my mother once mentioning that yeast can be...difficult.  Perhaps that is where my hesitancy with yeast stems from.  Perhaps I assumed that the reason why most people buy bread is because it is so hard to produce good results at home.

I made my first loaf of bread when I was 15 years old.  I am not sure what compelled me to put aside my fear of  yeast; but I remember that first awkward attempt at kneading.  Pulling the wet, sticky dough from the mixing bowl, bits of it stringing down from the pile in my hands.  PLOP, onto the "lightly floured" counter top.  This is it, I told my self, and dove in.  My hands pulled, pushed, and stretched the dough.  I slowly added flour, my hands covered in the gooey mess.  The more I kneaded, the stickier it seemed to get.  More flour--too dry, more kneading--too sticky.  This is never going to work.  Rocking, pulling, pushing, stretching.  More flour, more kneading.  Slowly to dough came together.  My hands still a mess, my hair covered in a light dusting of flour.  But there, on the counter, a not-so-perfect ball of dough, smooth and...roundish? 

 
I think everyone should try their hand at making bread.  There is something about working the dough that just feels so natural and basic.  For the few minutes you are spending with the dough there is nothing else in the world.  Just you and that yeasty mixture.

Or maybe it's just me...