Italian Beef Sandwiches

Both of my grandmothers made a huge impact on my love of cooking. My grandmother Olson (my father's mother) was known for her roasts--pork, beef, you name it...she was an expert in the roast department. And, try as I might, I will probably never be able to make gravy the way she could. My grandmother Hulce (my mother's mother) is known more for her baking--especially homemade bread. How fortunate for me to have gotten such a well-rounded "education" growing up cooking with my grandmothers.

A friend of mine recently noted that she would follow my blog if I were to post easy recipes. So here is an easy one--and always a crowd pleaser. Hopefully her husband is a carnivore:

ITALIAN BEEF SANDWICHES

3-4 lb. beef roast -- I like chuck the best
(Chuck, Round Bottom, and English cuts have all been recommended by various butchers that I have asked...and if you forget when you're at the store, just tell the butcher you want to make shredded beef in the crockpot.)

1-2 packages of Italian Dressing Seasoning

4-6 cups water

4-6 beef boullion cubes
(add one cube per cup of water, or follow the directions on package)

1/3 cup white vinegar
(This is optional, but rumor has it that white vinegar helps tenderize the meat while it cooks)

Put roast in crock pot. Add vinegar. Dissolve boullion cubes in water and add seasoned water to crockpot. The water level should be about 2/3 to the top of the roast. If you have extra, save it for later, should you decide to add more "juice" during cooking. (If you don't have extra, you can always add plain old water if you want to make more juice.) Pour Italian seasoning packets into water and on top of roast. Set crock pot on high. Cook for 4 to 5 hours. Check tenderness by sticking roast with fork and twisting to see how easy it is to break apart. If it is VERY easy, continue breaking up meat (can shred with two forks) and then allow to cook on low or warm until it is time to eat. If it is still a little difficult, allow meat to continue cooking on high until it IS easy to break apart. Then reduce to warm.

Serve on hearty bread that can withstand the juiciness of the meat!

This recipe really is fool-proof. It is difficult to mess up or overcook.

Leftovers are great, too. Mix leftover beef & juice with a cream soup (like cream of mushroom) and add to cooked egg-noodles for beef & noodle casserole--bake casserole for about 30 minutes at 350 degrees.

In Mourning

Well, the day has finally arrived. Whenever I decide to unfreeze it, the last bag of frozen breastmilk will be gone. I think I will wear black that day. And I should have a proper burial for my pump--I will put her away with pomp and circumstance. She will not be sharing a plastic bin with clothes that Drew has outgrown or toys that he no longer wants to play with. NO. She will have her own personal storage bin, and all of her bits and pieces will be stored away carefully in Ziploc bags. R.I.P. Miss Medela. Until we meet again. (Although, word on the maternity street is that insurance pays for a new pump with each pregnancy. WHA-HOO!)

I have some friends who will mourn with me, and who would probably even attend Miss Medela's burial, if I asked. I have other friends who would never consider breastfeeding and therefore wouldn't understand why I'm in mourning. And I have some friends who DID breastfeed, but did NOT have such a good experience. I try not to judge anyone's personal decisions/feelings about breastfeeding, but dang, it is difficult, given all of the current medical studies and APA recommendations.

Breastfeeding didn't exactly turn out as I had planned it. Despite the horror stories that I heard from most of my friends and/or colleagues who had breastfed, I was completely motivated, especially after having read So That's What They're For by Janet Tamaro. Plus, it was helpful that while I was pregnant, I visited a friend who breastfed her twins...at the same time... My goodness, I thought--if she could single-handedly provide nourishment for two babies, certainly I could provide for one. Because I had read so much, I also felt very empowered. The first six months were AMAZING and EASY and almost perfect. Getting started was a little frustrating, as in the hospital it seemed every nurse had her own "sure-fire" way to get Drew to latch on. But just like it was written in the many books/websites I read, eventually with lots of practice and patience both Drew and I caught on. Oh sure, I had to nurse (no pun intended) my right side back to health after a rough, very sore beginning. But other than that, breastfeeding worked for us. I can't think of anything so completely satisfying than to be the sole food source for your child. How amazing is it that by my body's design, Drew received the exact nourishment he needed?! And because he ate so frequently, he received the touch, love, and security he needed to foster his emotional health. So since it had worked so well during my maternity leave, my original plan was to breastfeed exclusively for a year, pumping while at work, but actually breastfeeding while at home. If only life worked out as we planned. Wouldn't that be easy?

During my maternity leave, I pumped frequently in addition to breastfeeding. I got my pump out initially to help heal the sore breast the first week I was home. I could pump from it, but not feed Drew from it. Then when I was able to nurse from both sides, I kept pumping here and there--usually right after Drew would feed. First of all, I was completely fascinated with how much I could produce. Second, I loved counting up the ounces in the freezer and figuring out how many days' supply I had in case some emergency arose. Thank goodness no emergencies came up, though, because I was able to build up a pretty respectable store in our freezer. And thank goodness, too, because once I started back to work, and Drew got bottles every single day, he became less and less interested in actually breastfeeding. How dare he! My letdown didn't come fast enough, nor was he very patient. So at 6 months, Drew had cut himself back to feeding only in the evening, and the wee hours of the morning (I was so thankful he still "needed" me in the middle of the night). And MAYBE (if I was lucky) he would nurse groggily before I went to work. Regardless, I had to not only pump at work, but pump at home in order to keep up with Drew's needs. And I was pretty much pumping my guts out, because I was rarely able to pump enough in one session to equal a feeding. I am still jealous of those over-producers out there!

Finally, after about two months of pumping at work and pumping at home, I thought I might go crazy. Not to mention trying to figure out how to work full-time and be a good mother. That is a whole different post! Anyway, as Thanksgiving neared, I caved. I started mixing formula with breastmilk, and I started reducing my pumping sessions little by little. OH THE GUILT. And not to MENTION the fact that just as I am beginning to give Drew some formula, the reports about traces of melamine in Nestle Good Start formula hit the news. OH DOUBLE GUILT. Let me just tell you, I can't wait until Drew can drink cow's milk, because I am completely embarrassed to buy formula. I would rather walk down a crowed street with two leaking breasts than to buy a container of formula in public. Shut up to those of you who think I'm being over-dramatic. (1) I like being a little dramatic (2) my kid's IQ will probably be higher than yours...just kidding...well, really I'm not and (3) I consider breastfeeding my child in my top FIVE greatest life accomplishments--especially in our culture which does so little to support breastfeeding moms!

Luckily, I have had a great support network of people to listen to and to help me through my trials and tribulations including my husband, my mom, some good friends who really do/did enjoy breastfeeding, and the lactation consultants in my breastfeeding group. So I've decided the next best thing I can do is to support other breastfeeding moms out there. And I'll be there for them when they're in mourning.

Trimmin' the Tree

Since we've been dating, Mike and I have gone to the same spot to purchase our Christmas tree. We go to someone's property (no, we are not trespassing...they have a SIGN), drive up their driveway, interrupt their family meal, give them $10, and then begin our trek through the trees to find the perfect one. Mike then saws it down, does a little trim work right there on the spot, and we load it into his "big rig" --my affectionate name for his man-truck.

Our first couple of Christmas tree adventures involved just Michael and me. Then Timber, our chocolate lab, was added to the mix. And this year, we made our first tree trek with a family of four: Michael, me, Drew and Timber. You can imagine the 25 minute ride to the tree farm. Timber sat in the front seat with us, while Drew relaxed (slept) in the back.

Usually the tree trek takes forever. My loving husband does not make snap decisions, and CERTAINLY not when there is money involved, albeit $10. Plus, he loves the search for the perfect tree. So after 20 minutes or so, I get annoyed with traipsing back and forth, and I wait until my final approval is needed. I watch Timber gallop gleefully all over the place, and I watch my husband make a mental note of the latitude and longitude of all the trees that are "possibilities."


With a baby in the mix, the tree trek changed just a bit. Drew suited up in his brown snow suit, we nick-named him "Ralphie," and Mike plopped him on a sled so we could pull him all around. He absolutely LOVED it, and didn't even cry when he accidentally tipped over into the snow before I could rescue him.

Along with the tree selection each year, comes decorating time. After Mike muscles the tree into our house, it is ALWAYS bigger than it appeared outdoors. The tree owners should post a sign "trees are much bigger than they appear out here." This year we had to cut two feet off the bottom after having scuffed up our (vaulted) ceiling. Oops. Once in the tree stand, it's time to decorate. Now, I appreciate the lovely Christmas trees that are all matchy-match or more grammatically correct: theme-based. I'm a matchy-match type of person as a general rule. But when it comes to decorating our tree, I am not only totally fine with the motley crew of tree ornaments, but I am exceedingly proud of the traditions and memories that they represent. We have sort of a his/hers/ours collection of ornaments. Many of Michael's ornaments represent his passions (outdoors, fishing, hunting), and we both have many ornaments from our childhoods. The "ours" ornaments include just a few--one that represents our first married Christmas together, one of a chocolate lab (to represent Timber, of course), and a couple of Baby's First Christmas ornaments.

My very favorite Christmas ornament is pictured above. This little house has been around as long as I can possibly remember...so it is probably at least 30 years old. EEK. As a child, it fascinated me that in order to make the ornament "work" you have to choose a special spot on the tree limb so you can put the light in the back and light up the house. I know, serious stuff here. Michael always makes sure that I get to hang that one. What a thoughtful husband...seriously.

A new tree-trimming tradition (don't you just love alliteration), that we have created together as a couple is the annual sipping of Blackstar Farms cherry dessert wine which we pick up during our October trip to the Leelanau peninsula. Last year I couldn't really sip due to being pregnant, but this year I was back in action! YUM!

Cookbooks

I read cookbooks like they are novels. Over the years, as cooking has grown from a mommy-and-me activity to a personal hobby to a full-fledged passion of mine, my cookbook collection has also grown. I devour (no pun intended) each and every recipe as I read the cookbook front to back. And just like those "real" books that are your favorites and you read over and over, I have my favorite cookbooks--some because of the recipes they hold and some for the sheer sentimental value behind how I came to own them.

My mother, who pretends that she isn't a good cook but really is an AMAZING cook, gave me the "Friends" cookbook one Christmas. I love it because it has a personal message from her about me being not only her daughter, but her friend. Get it? The "Friends" cookbook? Not to mention the fact that I watched "Friends" religiously when it was still on and many of the recipes were mentioned in episodes.

I also have the cookbook that I purchased the weekend my husband and I got engaged. We stayed at the Aspen House Bed & Breakfast near Leland, Michigan. The owner of the B&B had written and published a lovely cookbook, and I was so excited to have such a special keepsake.

Both my mother and my mother-in-law have printed family cookbooks containing the beloved traditional recipes for dishes that are family favorites. These are the most-requested recipes that I no longer have to request! My mother-in-law first put together the Ryzak family cookbook when her daugther (my now sister-in-law) was about to get married. Then I later received my own copy at one of my bridal showers. The family cookbook that my mom printed was made especially for me for a Christmas gift. This cookbook contains not only recipes, but many anecdotal stories from my mother's childhood and my own childhood. She also included some ORIGINAL recipe cards hand-written by my grandmother...complete with ingredient smudges on them.

The latest addition to my cookbook collection is a VINTAGE cookbook! Copyright 1963. No longer in print. It is the orange cookbook pictured at the top of this post: The New Parents' Magazine Family Cookbook. So my mom (who gave it to me as--you guessed it--A GIFT) had to order it online, used copy and all. My favorite recipe in this book is on p. 94--"Basic Sugar Cookie." And here it is:

2 cups sifted flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup butter or margarine

3/4 cup sugar

1 egg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 tablespoon milk

1 tablespoon sugar

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

1. Sift together flour, baking powder and salt.

2. Cream together butter and sugar; add egg and beat until smooth and fluffy. Stir in vanilla and milk.

3. Add flour mixture and blend thoroughly. (Here is where we would add the flour mixture little by little...sampling each blend as we went.)

4. Chill cookie dough until easy to handle. (Or until you are able to find the cookie cutters!)

5. Roll half of dough at a time. Roll out to 1/4-inch thickness on lightly floured board. Cut with cookie cutter.

6. Place on a lightly greased cookie sheet and sprinkle with granulated sugar and cinnamon. (We NEVER did this step, and so never needed the last two ingredients mentioned above.)

7. Bake in hot oven (400 degrees) for 6 - 10 minutes. (We usually baked them in a little cooler oven...375 degrees.)

8. Remove cookies to wire racks to cool. Makes about 2 1/2 dozen cookies (cut with 2 1/2 inch cutter).

THIS is recipe that helped me learn how to use a hand-mixer. This recipe also introduced to me the bliss behind licking the beaters...and how much TLC affects the outcome of what you cook. Once the cookies were baked, we always frosted them. YUM. The frosting consisted of powdered sugar, a dash of milk, a dash of vanilla extract, and sometimes a tablespoon of butter--no measurements, it was consistancy we were after. And if it was a really special occasion, I got to add colored sugar "salt" or sprinkles. For many Christmases, Santa always received at least three of these sugar cookies accompanied by a cold glass of milk. I always made sure to pick out the best-decorated ones for Santa.

I can't wait to make these sugar cookies with Drew this year. Sure, he will probably be sitting in his highchair with me in the kitchen, not knowing that he is making cookies (except for when I sneak him a taste of the dough--pre-raw egg, of course), but we will be together and we will be bonding, and they will be the best sugar cookies ever.

Memory Keeper

Oh, where to start? I have decided that I need a place to journal...and it needs to be somewhere a little more creative than a Microsoft Word document. So I guess I'm starting here. This blog will be my Memory Keeper--a high-tech Trapper Keeper of sorts (anyone remember those?).

Today we're in the midst of Christmas season. It's so hard to be constantly bombarded with the commercialism and NOT want "stuff." How difficult it will be to teach Drew NOT to be materialistic. Luckily he has a father who loves and respects the outdoors. Surely that will be a good place to start teaching him...instead of indoors playing videogames.

Of course, it's not the "things" that should make this season so special, but the memories we create with our loved ones. I have some fond memories of childhood Christmas traditions--one of which was the annual Christmas Eve tradition of reading from the hard-cover Saturday Evening Post book. I think it was a special edition of an old magazine. Each year Dad would read a short story by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Wish I could remember the title. I'll have to ask my mother. Anyway, Mr. Edwards successfully waded through a raging, cold winter river to bring Laura and her family gifts from "Santa Claus," as Santa was unable to make it to the Ingalls' home in the country due to the terrible winter storm. Of course that was just the cover for the fact that Laura's parents couldn't get to where they needed in order to get their girls gifts, and Mr. Edwards braved the weather, risked his life, and saved the day. The gifts included a tin cup, a shiny penny, and a small sugar cake. My father's voice was the perfect one to tell the story. What a great feeling to cuddle up next to him and follow the words on the page as he read. Oh, to be loved by a parent.

As I write this I think...I absolutely must have Mom copy the story for me so that I can begin the tradition with Drew this very year. It will be his first Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, after all. Maybe he won't understand the words, but he will certainly feel loved and secure, and hopefully Mommy's voice will be just right, too.