And all of this baby food joy is sparking my grown up culinary desires as well. Indeed, I cannot remember the last time I was so interested in cooking and eating good food.

The bad news is, of course, that it may be another six months until I am able to find my desk again and write about it; but, Dear Internet, please believe that I have not forgotten you...

When I was pregnant, I daily wondered how people with kids do it — feed themselves every day. I see now that success lies in adjustment of standards and procedures, or at least that's the way it's working out here. Gone are the treasured hours in the kitchen preparing a great meal just because it's Tuesday. Eating has become functional; we do it because we must in order to keep bouncing, rocking, feeding, bathing, and playing with the baby.

This sounds like complaining, and I suppose that it is. I miss being in the kitchen so much: miss turning on NPR and cooking all day, especially on these drizzly gray ones, miss smelling my supper all day long getting richer and more awesome as it simmers and stews.

My inability to cook is a bit baffling, too. The babe does sleep during the day, sometimes even for hours at a time, and yet I am still not in there. I cannot think of what I want to eat, cannot remember what we used to like when we were afforded the childless luxury to leisurely enjoy our food. And other, simpler, matters make demands more loudly: clean clothes, cat food, showers and naps.

Other parents tell me often that these first three months are the doosies, after which things settle for awhile, and I am counting on their being right. Our Birdie is a real joy—just as sweet and smiley and pleasant as they come (near as I can tell), but she's shuffled every little thing around these parts. Momming is great; but where did the rest of me go?

I think this may be the World's Best Quickbread. In any case, I can't quit eating or baking it. Photo...eventually.

Ingredients

Procedure

1. Preheat oven to 350º and prepare loaf pan.
2. Toast walnuts, cool, and roughly chop.
3. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
4. Cream butter and sugar.
5. Add eggs, banana, sour cream, and vanilla all at once. Mix for about one minute, until thoroughly blended.
6. Add flour mixture and mix on low speed until just moistened.
7. Add cranberries and walnuts and mix until well incorporated.
8. Scrape the batter into the loaf pan. It will be about ¾ of an inch from the top.
9. Bake 55 to 65 minutes or until the bread is golden and springs back when pressed lightly in the middle. You may have to tent loosely with foil midway through baking to avoid overbrowning.
10. Cool on wire rack for ten minutes. Loosen the sides, turn out of the pan, let cool completely.

Finch's appetite has been our primary focus, trying to get her to eat regularly in order to gain weight as she approached full-term status. We've been up at all hours, breastfeeding, bottle-feeding, finger feeding. I am obsessed with her intake in milliliters and her output in poop.

Amid all of this — the surprise at being parents when we thought we had a month left to prepare and enjoy the silence, recovering from a birth more exciting (and more medical) than we'd planned, and focusing on the care of our [adorable] daughter — The Squeeze and I have had to eat, too.

In the beginning it was easy. I ate, ravenously, whatever was brought to me in the hospital, while Papa ran to the third floor cafeteria for mini pizzas, Voodoo doughnuts, and whatever else was quick and satisfying for a man needed for baby- and mama-care 24 hours a day. When we got back home it was less easy, but within a few days we had helpful guests who were shopping and cooking for us and laying down supplies in our fridge that would last after they left. Friends and family came to visit, brought Thai and Mexican foods, pizzas and chilis, pies and quickbreads. I have never in all of my life been so happy to see take out containers.

And now we are on our own for a few days. Finch is three weeks old and our feeding schedule has relaxed somewhat, allowing for more time to nap and fold laundry, for making grocery-runs, for writing blog posts. Today The Squeeze made peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies. He put these little crackly puffs in them that pretty much blew my mind. But more than making a tasty treat, this act of simple cookery (by no means his first, as he's been feeding us well for days) felt like a proclamation that normalcy will someday, perhaps even soon, return to our home.

As I write this, he is upstairs in the kitchen again, working on egg drop soup and potstickers. There's a quickbread (a pumpkin-banana hybrid, 'cause that's what I had in the fridge) in the oven. It's dark outside, but the house is filling with cozy cooking smells, just like it would whether or not I was still pregnant, whether or not we had this sweet infant snoozing on my chest.

For a few weeks food was downgraded to that which was merely keeping us going. It didn't matter to me what I ate or when, so long as I was fueled enough to attend to my new-mama duties. Now I am starting to purposefully eat again, to have preferences about taste and temperature. If presented with that hospital broth today, sure I would reject it, laughing. That feels like progress. And though I could hardly imagine it a few weeks ago, I am sure now that soon I'll be in the kitchen again too. It's never too soon to start this kid's culinary education, right?

For more about young Finch, you may see iamfinch.com.

Ingredients:

Procedure:

1. Cream butter, tahini, and sugars.
2. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat until well combined.
3. In a separate bowl, stir together flours, baking soda and salt.
4. Gather your garnishes—chocolate chips, raisins, coconut, seeds or nuts, and millet—in yet another bowl.
5. Stir flour mixture into butter mixture. Don't overdo it.
6. Now add chocolate chips and all of the other fun stuff. Stir until evenly distributed.
7. Wrap dough in plastic and refrigerate at least one hour. Can be frozen for longer-term storage.
8. Preheat oven to 350ºF. Place rack in the upper-middle position. I prefer to bake cookies one sheet at a time—that's just what works best in my oven.
9. Form dough into just-larger-than-tablespoon spheres.
10. Bake until golden all over. Cool five to ten minutes on wire rack before munching.

Unlike other granola recipes I've auditioned, this one calls for heating the oil, honey, and maple syrup before adding it to the dry goodies. Loosening up the sticky stuff made it very easy to distribute evenly.

Ingredients:

Procedure:

1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and preheat oven to 325ºF.
2. Mix together oats, triticale, coconut, nuts, and seeds.
3. Combine oil, maple syrup, and honey in a small saucepan and heat until warm.
4. Pour liquid over oat mixture and toss to coat.
5. Spread granola in an even layer on a rimmed baking sheet.
6. Bake, stirring every five minutes, until the granola is light golden brown, about fifteen minutes. When it's ready, the granola will still look a bit "wet," but will smell quite toasty.
7. Stir in raisins or cherries.
8. Let granola cool to room temperature and store in an airtight container.

The closest thing I think I've experienced to an authentic pregnancy-related food craving occurred toward the end of my first trimester, when I felt that my happiness and well-being depended entirely on a steady supply of fresh pineapple. If I didn't have one in the house, I became nervous, jittery. Now, though, exactly ninety-five days from my estimated due date, the pineapple passion has waned somewhat. I do still keep a pineapple around, but I am going through them at a much more reasonable rate and it's rare anymore that I get up in the middle of the night to sneak a slice.

Pregnancy-related or no, for I have always been passionately pro-vegetable*, I have been in recent days utterly fixated on green foods. Last night I ate steamed spinach for dinner. Two days ago, it was a bowl of buttered peas for breakfast. Green foods, in addition to being fantastically delicious, just make me feel good. And they're certainly not doing any harm to the acrobat in my belly, which adds to their appeal.

So yesterday I decided to take green as far as green would go. Inspired by one of the many wonderful recipes from 101 Cookbooks, these noodles came together quickly and more than satisfied my need for green.

I began by simmering slices of ginger and garlic in a quart of vegetable stock. I strained out the aromatics and added shredded chicken, sautéed asparagus, and spinach noodles from Nonna's**. Basil, mint, cilantro, scallion, sesame oil, lime juice, and red pepper flakes comprised the garnish.

And now, though it is only a quarter to ten, I'm already thinking about today's dose of green. Mint chip ice cream with candied kale, perhaps?



*I credit my parents for this—and acknowledge that it wasn't always easy to get me to eat summer squash.
**Nonna's Noodles: nom, nom, nom!

"Listen, Sister," the Squeeze said to me, waggling a piece of spice-crusted beef in creamy fenugreek sauce on his fork, "I'm not saying I don't wish this was A-1." My face must have fallen, just a little (but what did I expect, really?). He continued, smiling, "But it's good." Ah,I thought, thank goodness for that.

We'd already enjoyed our poppadoms (those most-delicious spiced and crispy wafers that often appear before a meal at an Indian restaurant) and our pakoras (vegetable fritters with coriander chutney)—both served with perfect accompaniments, full of flavor and not too, too spicy and The Squeeze appeared content as he tucked into his tandoor culotte steak. Across the table, I was a happy little clam. Though we were seated in the middle of the restaurant and right next to the kitchen, I didn't feel crowded by other customers or by the stream of [friendly without being obnoxious] servers that moved past our table. Even the table right next to us, sharing the same bench on one side, was positioned at a respectable, breathable distance. You can't enjoy your Carlton Farms pork vindahlo if you're feeling hemmed in, you know.

And I did enjoy it. The portion size was rather massive, but the dish was quite well executed and flavorful. Even the rice—for which I had no expectations—held its own on the plate. It was light and mild and studded with crunchy (not soggy!) pistachio nuts. I definitely, definitely had my fix.

While I am sure that I enjoyed our meal more than the Squeeze did (I even loved his cauliflower puree, which he had a hard time getting excited about), I believe we both pushed back from the table satisfied, no need to swing by Burgerville on the way home. And though I consider Vindahlo—and the satisfying of my desperate craving for Indian food—a success, I don't think I've exactly converted anyone.

It wasn't any shortcoming of the restaurant's, though. It's just that some of us appreciate fine foods more than others.

Vindahlo
2038 SE Clinton Street
Portland, Oregon 97202
503-467-4550

By the time I made it down to the deck overlooking the chicken coop, the raccoon had her half way down the run. I stood above them, trembling, crying, and throwing rocks until the 'coon dropped the injured hen and alighted to the top of the fence.

By six am the sun was up, Trotsky was in the ground, and her last two eggs were folded into a batch of blackberry orange muffins. Despite our heavy lids, I knew the Squeeze and I were up. And we may as well eat.

Ingredients:

Procedure:

I always have greater success in achieving a good texture when I mix these muffins by hand instead of in an electric mixer. Lumpy batter is OK.

1. Prepare ten standard-sized muffin cups and preheat oven to 350ºF.
2. Cream butter and sugar. Don't worry about "light and fluffy," just get them smoothly and evenly combined.
3. In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
4. Add eggs, vanilla, and orange zest to butter mixture. Stir to combine. Do not mix so long that it becomes smooth and uniform.
5. Add flour mixture and milk. Again, stir to combine, leaving some lumps.
6. Gently fold in blackberries. Scoop into muffin tin.
7. Bake until lightly browned and a toothpick inserted into the center of the muffin comes out clean.
8. Cool five minutes on a wire rack before removing muffins from the tin.

Adíos, Trotsky. We'll miss you and your delicious eggs.

Breakfast number one: Potato latkes and housemade applesauce, hold the sour cream. Best danged latkes of my life, seriously. I figure they must be deep fried as they came out a bit more round than flat, and perfectly—perfectly!—golden and crunchy all over. The applesauce, too, sort of blew my mind. It's almost creamy and not too sweet. I'm salivating as I remember this.

Breakfast number two: Granola, also housemade, and yogurt with fresh fruit. Orange juice. The granola was pleasantly toasted and neither it nor the ample serving of yogurt was too sweet. Seasonal fruit complimented nicely, though I could have done without the honeydew.

Breakfast number three: Challah french toast, maple syrup. No powdered sugar, no fruit, no garnish, nothing to distract a girl from what's important here: three inch-thick slices of pillowy challah bread in unobtrusive egg batter and perfectly (there I go with that word again) cooked. It was, without question, the best french toast I have ever had.

I have also witnessed the consumption of bacon, eggs, potatoes (well seasoned, brown on the outside and creamy within), bagels (chewy and delicious, no nonsense—or sweet flavors—here), scallion cream cheese (replete with fresh scallions; obviously made fresh), and rye toast at Kenny and Zuke's. Every plate was clean; ever diner happy and sated.

I can't wait to try lunch.

Kenny and Zuke's Delicatessen
1038 SW Stark St
Portland, OR 97205
503.222.DELI (3354)