The Foods I DON'T Buy

I have always been "thrifty," taking my time making money decisions and spending money conservatively. I have also always been "healthy," choosing what I eat carefully and cooking from scratch regularly. Yet, there was always room for improvement and while I did not know it then, living in a mountain town off the beaten path last year edged me closer to "self" sufficiency and further from mass produced. What got cemented in my mind over the past year is something I had always believed in: you can make it, better, yourself. And so I grew my list of what I do not pick up from the grocery store, and what I do. And as we near the end of another year, I am taking stock of the changes I have made in our family's eating habits. And while this list is not comprehensive, it serves a my point of reference.

• Baby feeding supplies/bottles/formula and food. While I did originally invest in baby bottles when JR was born and bought the one can of baby formula after Yousef came home, I have been using mother's milk straight from the source as my babies' nutrition. 

• Precooked meals/packaged foods no longer have a space in my freezer which is now packed with frozen leafy greens of every variety, cranberries for when not in season and par boiled legumes for when in a rush. Also in there I have blueberries, which the kids can't seem to get enough of, lasagna, cow and lamb tongues, beef and chicken strips and frozen shrimp. The only pre-made food I indulge in are the spinach tortellini from Trader Joe's. I even stopped buying broths in a box and instead use from my stash of turkey, chicken, vegetable or lamb that takes up a whole freezer shelf. 

• I have not bought lunch meat, store bought pasta sauce, cream of anything or condensed soup since February of this year. While I used to resort to smoked turkey sandwiches as a lunch item for Jeff to take to work, we have now moved away from that pattern. I make sauces and soups from scratch and freeze all extras.  

• Packaged snacks, salad dressings, chips and dips except when I give in to the kids, and even then I cringe at the purchase and try to give them as little from it as possible. I enjoy a few chips here and there, but I do not like the thought of having a huge bag in the house; I know very well where it will end up! I started making batches of granola, which Yousef likes, and cheese crackers with three ingredients that Jannah-Rae takes to school. 

• I make my own fresh milk cheeses and splurge only on imported hard and specialty cheeses. I also get cheese sticks for the kids and at time yogurt tubes. Shredded mozzarella and cheddar cheeses can be found in the fridge drawer for grilled cheese sandwiches and lasagna. Store bought yogurt is a thing of the past except for yogurt starters. 

• Hot dogs, hamburgers and chicken nuggets. I leave those for when we eat out or when we are at my parent's house. My mom makes ham, chicken and turkey burgers from scratch so the kids can indulge in them and has hot dogs and chicken nuggets in the freezer for a treat meal in a bind. As tempting as it is for me to have one or all of these on hand in the freezer I have not yet given in to the ease. I would rather scramble an egg with spinach or make some pasta with butter and cheese before microwaving a batch of processed meat.

• We are now buying less white rice, butter, and bread. We no longer pour maple syrup on our pancakes and a jar of jam lasts longer than before. Instead, we cover our toast with honey, homemade butter and jams and indulge in Nutella. 

In the next year it is my hope that I can keep up in the kitchen as the kids get older and require more of my time. And while I won't sacrifice time with them for cooking, I do not consider my investment in their nutrition as a chore. I enjoy making meals and think of it as my hobby. I am sure if I had someone to help clean up after me, and more people to feed, I would be rolling out a lot more foods. But there is only so much a family of four can eat, only so much room in my freezer and cupboards to store leftovers, and only so much counter space to dry out the dishes. 

Window Dressing

For a cold Sunday morning activity we decided to "do Christmas." While we do not celebrate Christmas, there was no reason why we couldn't join in the merry. Just like we found a way to be part of Halloween and make memories, I thought we could get into the happy Christmas spirit without having to share the beliefs of the holiday. With Yousef napping, Jannah-Rae and I decided to go shopping for decorations.

Michael's as everyone in the US knows is a monster arts and crafts store with a sale going on almost every day of the year. With Christmas approaching and a lull in the business, it decided to put everything Christmas on 40-60% off creating a perfect opportunity to shop. Armed with another 20% off entire purchase coupon, JR and I amassed two bag fulls of festive for less than $15. She even stopped by the demo table and made an elf.

Back at home JR unpacked her purchases and set to work. She spread out the branches on the artificial mini tree, opened the mini ornaments and hung up the star. She found the perfect place for her tree on the window sill and moved to frame her work. Snowmen in an array of media found their way onto the window; gels, paint, stickers. Then the snowflakes came, and the lights on the railing. Finally, she laid out what gifts we had already received, and made sure to put out the reindeer flying dust she made at the Winter Wonderland.

She stood back to inspect her work. "Will people see our decorations?" she asked. Of course, came back the reply. "Will they love it?" "I love it," I said, "do you?" "Yes, mama." "Then, that is all that matter," I stressed and continued to compliment her on her work.

Since then whenever she comes back from school, she wonders about our window; can people see it from their cars, do they look up as they are walking, do they stop and stare. Part of her afternoon routine has become to adjust the stickers that are coming off, check if the paint is still holding, make sure the ornaments are not falling, and keeping her brother away from the window. "No, Yousef, do not touch," is constantly echoed in the living room. But of course Yousef touches, and the fun begins!

Happy Holidays!!!

Thanksgiving this year

Last year we were apart for Thanksgiving. The year before that we were in different places at the same time. This year we were all together, with the bonus of an added guest.

Grandma and Grandpa traveled from Seattle, my parents rode in from Arlington and our friend metro-ed from DC. On Thanksgiving day she ran into transportation challenges, but we overcome them and picked her up despite the distance. My parents came in the night before, the in-laws the week prior.

We are renting a big house; we split it among three families for the night. Ours took the  master room where JR had her mattress relocate to the floor, and Yousef on the queen bed between Jeff and I. John and Susan shared the futon in the spare bedroom while my parents cozied on the twin foam mattress and the cushions from the couch on the floor in JR's room.

There was a lot of love in that house that night. Yousef and JR could not go to sleep. They went around from room to room to check in on the grandparents. My parents had not stayed with us before so Yousef was not sure what was going on. Usually we sleep at their house, so he was confused. Confused by ecstatic. His first thought the next morning was Jeddo and off he ran.

My first thought the next morning was FOOD! In the weeks leading up to the big day, we had decided to have limited offerings of the basics; just because it was Thanksgiving we did not need to gorge on too many sides and end up with an upset stomach. But as the day progressed I stressed that we did not have enough food and ended up making more than I had planned.

The original menu consisted of  home-made butter rolls, apple-fennel salad, turkey, cranberry-orange chutney, and root vegetable mash. I then added boxed gravy for my father-in-law. What we ended up having was store bought rolls, spatchcocked turkey, two kinds of cranberry sauce, twice as much salad, root vegetable mash and mashed potatoes, baked sweet potatoes, boiled corn on the cob, and roasted butternut squash. Costco pumpkin pie with whipped cream, pumpkin pie panna cotta, coffee and a fruit plate concluded the meal.

Did we have a lot of food? We sure did! Did we have enough leftovers? Not as many as I expected! Once we split the leftovers among three families and a friend, each group had only one more Thanksgiving meal reserved for later; the turkey was almost gone. Although a thirteen pounder, it came out so juicy and tender, having cooked for only 90 minutes rather than three hours, that I could not help but going back for seconds and thirds. I even picked at the turkey as I as dividing the extra among the guests. The bones were turned into stock while the raw neck and thoracic cage that was taken out when the Columbia Whole Foods butcher butterflied the turkey for me was frozen to be turned into soup later.

Did we have a good time? We sure did! I spent my time in the kitchen with my friend cooking and chatting, the kids played with Teta and Grandma, Jeff caught up on work and Hassan and John watched TV. We all came together to eat, and were thankful for the year that we had had.

In Charlottesville ~ again

It was almost a year to date, August 13, 2013, that I had had one last taste of fried chicken and twenty months to date, December 22, 2012, that our family had had a vacation in Charlottesville. Our last two visits to this quiet town were bittersweet: one heralded a last of many things before departure and the other an attempt to find rest and relaxation amidst a stressful and painful time.

This visit was all about fun, family and reunification with favorite finds and foods. We ate at the same spots, slept in the same rooms, shopped at the same stores and relaxed in the same environment. We swam, walked, napped and talked. I wrote, Jeff worked, JR read and Yousef explored. We all relaxed.

Except for some closures, little had changed in the pedestrian downtown over the years, but much has changed in our life. Jeff and I first discovered the area as a twosome. It was one summer day, when the in-laws asked to visit Monticello that the treasure of the fried chicken was found. After that, Jeff and I would pass the summers taking day trips for lunch, coffee and gelato. Then, we expanded our adventure and started staying overnights first at a local bed and breakfast, then at a Marriott to finally be in the know for unbeatable rates at the Omni.

Then, Jannah-Rae was born but the tradition lived on. While the trips became less frequent, they continued well into her life. We came as a family of three, with grandparents, with out-of-town visitors, for a day, or a couple. Our last visit here as a family of three celebrated Jeff's birthday as an impromptu trip. That was a long time ago, well before we had Yousef in the making.

Now there is Yousef, and his first family vacation in Charlottesville. While at his age Jannah-Rae had logged countless trips to C-Ville, there's something to bringing him here at this age that casts a special spell and makes me stop and reflect.

Where once Jeff and I could enjoy a quiet meal, this time our attention was equally divided between putting food in our mouths and putting it in the kids'. Where once JR napped cocooned in the Moby wrap, this time she sped through on her bike. Where once I was wheelchair bound, this time I ran after Yousef. Where once JR silently tagged along, this time she voiced her opinions, desires, and needs. Where once we had one kid running into mischievousness, this time we had a team. And what a team they are! Together or apart, they make people stop, stare and comment, and conclude with a free cookie or a sticker book. There are more "where onces" to list so I decided to keep the list short and spend the time enjoying the "this times."

A decade of Thanksgivings

I am sitting here watching my son sleep, thinking of my daughter away at preschool, missing my husband in Morocco. I never thought that one day I will be so separated from the people I love most. My parents, in-laws and most of my friends are in the US, my aunt is in London, and my uncle and his family are all away at work. Of all the days, today is the day I miss my “old” life most. In all the years I have been in the US, Jeff and I have almost always been together over Thanksgiving, whether we chose to celebrate it or not. This year, though, not only are we separated, we are also not celebrating.

In honor of all those November days that have passed since I got to know Thanksgiving, I collect and recollect how they have been spent. I share highlights from years past.

Thanksgiving 2003

My first Thanksgiving, my first train ride, my first trip to Seattle and the first time I meet Jeff’s parents. 2003 was a year of many firsts.  

Most memorable part: chopping onions, tomatoes, and parsley to make tabouleh for eight using a dull knife; my right arm hurt well into the following day. I discovered how sweet and savory mix in a meal and avoided cranberry sauce.

Thanksgiving 2004

My first thanksgiving as a wife, and one more family gathering before we moved out of the Northwest.

Most memorable part: taking my first trip to Vancouver, BC and putting my green card to its first international use.

Thanksgiving 2005

The year of the smoked turkey, and the first year Jeff and I were apart for Thanksgiving: he was writing a paper and I was visiting a friend in Pittsburgh.

Most memorable part: giving up my seat on the plane for a free ticket. We also had our first yearly supply of smoked turkey broth in the freezer.

Thanksgiving 2006

We flew to Seattle for the holiday.

Most memorable part: this later proved to be the last Thanksgiving we have with the entire of Jeff’s immediate family.

Thanksgiving 2007

We hosted our very first Thanksgiving. It was held at our house in Portland. We had four guests, including one vegetarian.

Most memorable part: the barbequed turkey that Jeff grilled on the side patio despite the rain.

Thanksgiving 2008

The year with no turkey. Instead, and after leaving Portland for the second time, Jeff and I used up two free hotel nights and ventured to New York for the holiday.

Most memorable part: seeing the Macy’s Day parade balloons the day before the parade.

Thanksgiving 2009

With a baby in my belly and a due date in January 2010, I cooked for six in our DC apartment. The only item that was store bought, other than the bread, was the pumpkin pie.

Most memorable part: having Jeff’s and my parents gathered at our table for the first time.

Thanksgiving 2010

The year our family grew by one. Jannah-Rae was ten months old and able to share the feast. She had sweet potatoes and turkey.

Most memorable part: having a D&C shortly before the holiday yet celebrating anyway.

Thanksgiving 2011

We headed to MN to introduce JR to the rest of the family. This has been the biggest Thanksgiving I had been to so far. I had wanted to brave the crowds on Black Friday at the Mall of America but was convinced otherwise.

Most memorable part: needing the distraction from the second miscarriage and wanting to be surrounded by family. We bought JR a Mickey Mouse shirt that she is still wearing two years later.

Thanksgiving 2012

I was on bed rest, but Thanksgiving happened anyway. We invited a close friend over and dined with her and my parents.

Most memorable part: Jeff putting together a remarkable meal.

Thanksgiving 2013

Yousef’s first Thanksgiving and our first in a foreign country or rather make two foreign countries: the kids and I were in Lebanon while Jeff was alone in Morocco. The first Thanksgiving in a decade that passes without a celebration.

Most memorable part: not telling JR it was Thanksgiving to avoid making her sad.

A break from packing

I took the day "off" from packing and moving yesterday. The weekend was filled with boxes, bubble wrap and tape and I wanted a different start to my week. And although much remains to be done until everything is "move-ready" a break from the activities was really necessary for my sanity and for family relations.

My picky little eater had been asking for weeks to go to Charlottesville and eat fried chicken but we have been so busy, and Yousef had been so fussy in the car seat that we had been reluctant to make the trip before now. Seeing however how are days in the US are now numbered and how there is no better time than the present to do things, I decided to make the 2 plus hour trip to Thomas Jefferson's home and have one last all-you-can-eat chicken, beet, green beans, black eyed peas, coleslaw stewed tomatoes, and mashed potato lunch.

The last time I had been there, I was in a wheelchair enjoying one last getaway as a family of three. Then, Jeff was with us. This time, Teta was with us. Then, Yousef was in my belly. This time, Yousef was out of it. Then, we had a good time. This time, we had a last time. And last times are bitter sweet.

Ramadan Karim

Another year, another Ramadan knocks on our doors. And while the calendar shows that Tuesday, July 9th marks its beginning, higher authorities decreed Wednesday, as the first day. There is always so much unpredictability and anticipation in both its beginning and its end.

This year, JR anxiously awaited Ramadan and looked at the sky for the "Ramadan Moon." When we announced its beginning yesterday, she jumped for joy and instantly asked a myriad of questions about what we were going to do to celebrate it. Seeing that we have a rather small community of friends who celebrates Ramadan our activities were limited to spending time with the family, putting on her new gown, and meeting up with friends to splash in the water. Come to think of it, though, while the festivities were not grand, they were quite fitting: spending time with loved ones doing things we enjoy.

Ramadan Karim!

Mothers Day Wall

because every day is mother's day...

 

 

A spot in my heart.

A spot in my home.

A wall.

A photo.

A frame.  

And the years go by.

To capture the love,

is impossible to do.

But to record the memories;

that I can do.

We take photos,

each year at the same time.

To keep track of the changes,

as time goes by.

Time goes by,

but one thing holds true.

She will always have a spot

in my heart and my home. 

Ramadan

Once a year, and for 29 or 30 days, Muslims around the world observe the holy month of Ramadan. During that time, they give up food and drink from sun-up to sun-down. And while this is the easiest way to describe what Muslims do during that month, that is not what its all about.

Ramadan is about community, about faith, about piety. It is about caring, sharing and recognising. It is about asking for forgiveness, forgiving, forgetting, and remembering. It is about forgiving those who have done you wrong, and forgetting the wrongs that have been done. It is about remembering Allah and his graces and asking Him for forgiveness. It is about coming together with those you love and sharing a meal, a prayer, an evening, a celebration.

In Lebanon, Ramadan was always a big deal. We, my cousins and I, looked forward to it all year, and the night before it was expected to be confirmed, we stayed up late to be the first to hear the confirmation. We also stayed up late to eat! For as kids, and later as adults, part of the celebration of the month lay in our having an excuse for a late night, or early morning meal. We would get up before the sun, to the sounds of the drummer boy, calling us to our Sohoor. How sad we would be when we would sleep through it, our parents not waking us up, and miss our chance to have a glass of milk and a labneh sandwich before brushing our teeth and heading back under the covers. Sometimes, all we wanted was a cup of water, but that was enough of an excuse to get up. As we grew older and our ability to withhold hunger got stronger, we started preferring sleep to its interruption and ate our last meal of the day as close to bedtime as possible only waking up for a gulp of water from the bottle sitting besides the bed. Now that the sounds of the drummer boy are part of my past, I find myself wishing I had continued waking up to his tune.

The first day of fasting was always the most difficult. We would try to keep ourselves as occupied as possible to make the day go by faster. But alas, those last few minutes were the worst. Sitting at the Iftar table, listening to Koran and waiting for the canon to blast, the minutes seemed to drag and drag. Food was calling, sight and smell; it was sheer temptation.

As kids, I remember we were first allowed to fast "half" days, missing breakfast and then eating at lunch. Then, it was missing breakfast and lunch and enjoying dinner with the family. That brought on being allowed to fast on non-school days. Finally, when we reached puberty we were "adults" and could stay the whole day without food. That was a year worth celebrating, for that year we could flaunt our fasting at school and hold ourselves "higher" than our non-fasting friends. It was an honor and a priviledge to be able to fast during school days, and we were living it up. Our biggest victory those days was when our non-fasting friends would dangle our favorite chocolate infront of us in an attempt to break our will and and have us take a bite and we would hold on tight to our fast and not fall for their tricks. It was mean, when you look back at it, but we were kids, and kids do these things. And, we did not care. We would even sit down at the same table for lunch with them at times and just look the other way, or distract ourselves with conversation.

At times, though, hunger got the best of us and we would "forget" that we were fasting. But as soon as the first taste of food hits our tongue, we would get jolted back to reality. There was one such instance that I can still clearly see in my mind's eye. My cousins and I were at a karate tournament in which they were taking part. After it was done, the organisers passed around with juice and cookie. Who can refuse juice and cookies! So I helped myself to some completely forgetting that there are still many hours to go before I could officially eat. I take a bite and only after I had taken a sip of my juice did I remember, then was reminded again by my cousins, that I was fasting. Oh, the disappointment. I was devastated. Of course I could have moved on and continued fasting, as forgetfulness is forgiven, but I was made to feel so bad that I decided to just take my shame and break my fast early. My cousins continued to tease me about it all that day.

The last day of Ramadan was also the toughest, for you never really knew when the last day was. Just like its onset, its ending has to be confirmed by the sighting of the new moon. And often times we were deceived, hoping for a holiday and a day - or rather three - off from school, and in later years work, only to wake up the next morning and learn that it is still Ramadan. Or, finish our homework the night before only to find out that school is out and that we could have spent our afternoon doing something else, like playing. But Ramadan does end one day and the morning that follows is one of great celebration and many feasts.

For us, it meant a big breakfast and a late lunch at my maternal grandmother's house. These two meals were punctuated with numerous family visits, and equal amounts of eating maamoul. The day began with the phone ringing off the hook, with people competing to be the first to call to furnish Eid greetings, usually waking us up from our restful slumber. As kids, though, we did not mind too much as the excitement was contagious. But as sleeping in became more of a luxury as adults, we started dreading the wake-up calls, and I, for one, started unhooking my phone from the socket.

The visits were typically divided into his and her families. One got to be visited on the first day of the Eid while the other got the second. The following year, the arrangement rotated. The visits were short, ranging between 15 minutes and half an hour; there were so many houses to call upon and not enough time, so we had to keep them short. Of course by the time coffee was ready and the sweets were brought out, it wa time to pick up and leave. As kids, we did not get much time to play as we had to sit with the adults and "make" conversation. But later as teenagers, the brevity of the visits was appreciated; we wanted to move them along to hang out with our friends. By the time we made it to Eid lunch we were so full of maamoul that we had to force ourselves to eat real food.

The third, and last day, of the Eid was reserved for the immediate family. Our parents would take us out to a quiet family lunch and at times amusement park. We would spend the afternoon at home waiting for visitors to knock on our door in their turn. These visitors were usually non-family members.

Not only was the Eid decorated with food and family, there was also the fun attached. The fireworks we were allowed to play with, the new clothes and shoes, and the Eid money. While some families exchange gifts for the Eid, in our family the tradition was to hand out money. That money was then either saved or spent; in my case it was always saved, or rather my  parents used to save it! When our reluctance to get dressed and go on these faily visits set in, our parents would use the money as the "carrot" to make us move. Collecting the money was one part of the tradition, comparing who had "made" more at the end of the day was the other. The cousins would huddle and start counting; when we were too young to count, we would compare the colors of the different notes. Fun times!

Then, the Eid would end, and life would go back to normal. The new clothes can now be worn every day, the fireworks would have to be put away, and sweets would go back to being reserved for special occasions. Fasting would have to wait for another year, and school out would have to wait for another holiday, of which there are many in Lebanon.

In the US, for me, Ramadan comes and goes without much fanfare. Every year I spend it in the US I feel like it is slipping farther and farther away from me. My family is far, and my community is non-existent. Even those same friends who used to celebrate it with me in Lebanon seem to be engrossed in other things and forget to bestow their wishes for the month upon me. It is hard being alone during such a holy month and very difficult to make it through on your own. But I push through it and try not to "take it personal" when my friends forget about the Eid and don't ask me how Ramadan is going. I do not make elaborate meals, and often the Eid slips by like any other day. The only reminder that this month is different than any other is my family in Lebanon, and my duty towards them to remember it and towards myself to honor it.

Sunday 5/27/12

An impropmto vacation. Charlottesville here we come! With only one child we figured we could still be somewhat spontaneous with our plans. After a few phone calls we found an amazing deal at a great hotel in Charlotesville, one I had been secretly wanting to try out for years. For $148 a night, it was hard not to get out of town for the long weekend. The drive was easy, the weather was hot. We got there in time for our favorite lunch at Michie Tavern. Check-in was a breeze and the room was nice. JR discovered the pool and after many dips in the indoor and outdoor pools and the jacuzzi, she was ready for icecream. While dinner did not work out the way I planned, we all had a good night sleep. Hotels are FUN!