Foodie Friday- Baked Potato Soup

I love a good, hearty soup on a crisp fall day and this potato soup stands up to my every desire in a fall soup!  It appears frequently in our home from now until March.  We originally got this recipe from a friend of the family, but I've made some adaptations over the last year or so to make it so much better!

Baked Potato Soup

5-6 lg baking potatoes
2/3 cup butter
2/3 cup flour
6 cups milk
3/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
4 green onions chopped
12 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled
1 1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese
1 chicken bouillon cubes
8 oz sour cream

Wash potatoes and bake in 400 oven until done (can cook them in the microwave if that's easier). Cool and cut into 1/2" cubes. Melt butter over low heat; add flour, stirring until smooth. Gradually add mild and cook over medium heat. Stir until mixture is thick and bubbly. Add potato cubes, salt, pepper, onion, bacon, cheese and chicken base. Cook until well heated. Stir in sour cream.

My adaptations:
We usually add about 3/4 of a bottle of beer (or as Jarrod says, 1 bottle of beer minus 3 sips...no worries, I leave him the 3 sips after I use what I need) before adding the sour cream.  This gives it a good depth of flavor and it's not as thick. I have found that I really don't measure out the cheese, but I usually use at least 2-3 cups.  I find sharp (or extra sharp) cheddars (white or yellow) fit the flavor profiles the best.  The bite of the extra sharp cheddar pairs nicely with the beer, usually a Yuengling or a Pale Ale.  I usually serve this with a few fresh cut chives, some crumbled bacon, and a dollop of sour cream on top.

One of my favorite qualities of this soup is that it tastes even better when it's reheated.  The only downfall is that the green onions are a little wilty.  Solution?  Don't mix them into the soup, just sprinkle some on top before you serve:)

Eating Humble Pie....

...or the one where Mommy got a speeding ticket...
I debated even writing this post, but I decided it was good for me and that some day Bug and Doodle will laugh about it and I might even chuckle a little myself. 

Today started off as a normal day- story time at one of the local orchards, stop at Wal-Mart for some baby shower decorations, heading to one of the local parks...and then time seemed to stand still.  I was driving one of the roads that I used to drive almost daily when teaching, a road I grew up driving that isn't far from my parents' home.  I'm sure I knew the speed limit was 35, but I wasn't paying a bit of attention to the speed limit.  I was kind of in my own little world, listening to music on the radio, talking to Bug and Doodle about going to the park and the nature center, and couldn't begin to tell you what speed I was driving.  I wasn't driving recklessly, mind you, but apparently I wasn't driving 35 mph either. 

Then it happened.  That moment where you see flashing red and blue lights behind you, you pull over hoping that Mr. State Trooper has a bigger emergency to get to and will fly by you, and then the lights pull over onto the non-existent shoulder right behind you, the Lead-Footed Mama who wasn't going 35 mph in a 35 mph zone.  You stop the car, pull out your license and registration, and unbuckle your seat belt because you've parked your car.  Then you realize you've unbuckled your seatbelt, you don't want to get an additional fine for driving without it on, and quickly rebuckle before Mr. State Trooper appears at your window.  Yep, that pretty much sums up 10:45-10:52 this morning.  Bug certainly didn't get what was going on and I'm sure had many questions running through her head that fortunately she didn't verbalize.  I already wanted to sink into the floor boards because not only was I about to get a ticket (and a whopping fine), but it had happened with my kids in the car (yes, there were tears).  Then the part that caused me to eat a BIG slice of pie (humble pie that is)..."Mommy, I sorry," chimed Bug from the backseat.  All of a sudden it clicked in my mind that Bug thought it was her fault that we had to sit still on the side of the road and wait for Mr. State Trooper to return to Mama's car.  "Bug, this isn't your fault.  This is Mommy's fault.  Mommy was disobedient and broke a rule."  Wow, that's hard to swallow, but hopefully we both learned a lesson. 

 Next time it's time for pie, I'd prefer pumpkin instead of humble...or could you at least add a nice big scoop of ice cream on top of my  humble pie?

A Tribute to the Pink Ribbon

Pink ribbons...you can find them just about anywhere you look for them during the month of October from jewelry to bagels at Panera, from clothing to purses.  And while I think the pink ribbon is sometimes over-commercialized, Breast Cancer Awareness Month and the Pink Ribbon are very close to my heart.

You see, when I was 6 years old, I lost my grandmother to breast cancer.  She was my dad's mom and one of my best friends.  I remember dancing in her living room to the Lawrence Welk show, having animal crackers and apple juice while sitting on a special wicker chair, and saying "Goodnight, John Boy" as I watched The Waltons with her.  She was a very special, godly woman who I was blessed to have known for 6 short years. Every day I wish that she could meet my husband and cuddle Bug and Doodle because I know she would love them just as much as I do!

Because there is a history of breast cancer in my family, I'm always very aware of new lumps and bumps (even if I don't perform self checks as often as I should).  So when I found a new lump about a month before my wedding, saying I freaked out a little is probably an understatement.  It was my second year of teaching and I remember sitting in my portable classroom and calling my doctor's office immediately to let them know I'd found a lump and wanted an immediate appointment.  I remember being so frustrated that the receptionist wasn't nearly as alarmed by this as I was and calmly said, "So when would you like to come in for an appointment?"  An appointment was made for later in the week and though my doctor was fairly certain everything was fine, she sent me to an excellent specialist at GBMC, one of Baltimore's finest medical facilities.  Due to my age, they decided to perform an ultrasound instead of a mammogram.  I guess at 24, my breasts were considered "too dense" to clearly show them what they needed to see.  Jarrod took off work to go with me and I remember being so worried that he wouldn't want to marry  me if it turned out to be breast cancer (remember, our wedding was only 4 weeks away).  All of the "what ifs" ran through my mind.  The tech performed the ultrasound and then sent me over to the specialist.  I was so glad I had come to him because he decided the tech hadn't done a good enough job and he redid the ultrasound. 

Thankfully, in my case it turned out just to be a bump, nothing significant, no cancer, not even a benign cyst that they thought should be removed.  I know not everyone's cases turns out like this.  I know millions of women who put up a brave fight every day and I am among millions who hope a cure will be found by the time my daughters are reaching maturity.  I know I am one of the blessed and fortunate ones, but I am also that much more aware of the need for regular self-exams, etc. So in the month of October, I am more likely to buy  cherry/white chocolate "pink ribbon" bagels at Panera or support the Susan G. Komen foundation in loving memory of my grandmother and in honor of all of those women bravely fighting for their lives.  And when you see a pink ribbon this month, remember all of the wives, mothers, daughters that have lost their fight...and pray that your wife, mother, or daughter won't have to fight that same fight.

Loving the Little Years

 A few months ago a friend recommended that I read Loving the Little Years: Motherhood in the Trenches by Rachel Jankovic (I highly recommend it...you can order it here).  The basic premise of the book is that while the years with  young children in the house are sure to bring their difficulties, challenges, and days when you just want to scream (or simply go to the bathroom by yourself), the years are short.  As a mother to five children under kindergarten age, including a set of twins, (you can read her contributions over at Femina Girls Blog), I figured she must have some words of wisdom for little old me- mom of only 2.

As I read the book, I was continually struck with the same theme over and over again.  Then, when reading another friend's blog, she also mentioned the same thing- while the days can be very, very long, the years pass quickly and you wonder where they've gone.  You know the days I'm talking about- the days when the baby was up several times in the middle of the night teething and as soon as you fall back asleep, the toddler wakes up and is raring and ready to go for the day!  The days when the baby is attached to you and can't be put down without screaming in protest and your toddler seems to have un potty trained themselves.  The days when your husband comes home and wonders what you've done all day (but hopefully never asks!) and looking at your house, you wonder the same thing ,but are sure you've done something!  But even taking all those days into consideration, the years are short.  I look at Bug and Doodle and wonder where the time has gone!  Wasn't it just yesterday that Bug was a baby, resisting nap time, taking her first steps, saying her first words?  Wasn't it just yesterday that I stared into Doodle's eyes for the first time, amazed that the Lord had blessed us with another little girl?

Yes, the days by themselves can be so very long, but in the big picture, the years go by quickly!

P.S. This is just as much a reminder post to myself as it is to anyone else.

For the Love of Carbs

I love carbs...pasta, bread, sweets...you name it, I enjoy it!  I've always enjoyed eating a slice of good bread (though I'm not a big sandwich eater) and so when I stumbled upon a local place (you can read about my love for all things local back here)  baking naturally leavened bread (no yeast) in a brick oven, I needed to find out more.  I read the blog of a friend of a friend and her blog directed me to McGrath's Brick Oven Bakehouse.

Located in Mechanicsburg (so only about 30 minutes from my house), McGrath's is in the beginning stages of opening a wood-fired brick oven bakery in South Central Pennsylvania.  Currently, they're using a brick oven on their patio until all of the red tape gets worked out, but their naturally leavened bread (no yeast, also known as sourdough) is DELICIOUS!  I get their e-mails every week, decide if I like the bread(s) they're offering that week, place my order via e-mail (does it get any easier, people?) by Thursday, and pick up the bread on Friday evening.  This was the first week I was able to make it work to get there to pick up bread and let me tell you how wonderful it was!  I was handed my bread in paper bags and they were still warm to the touch!  I deeply inhaled the scent of the fresh 7-grain bread, made with as many local grains as they can get their hands on.  I thoroughly enjoyed serving this preservative-free, sugar-free bread to my family and they couldn't get enough of it either!  Can't wait to see what breads are offered this week, but I'm pretty sure a stop at McGrath's (currently their garage) will be added to our Lovin' Local Fridays after we make our stop at Eastern Market.  And if any of my friends in real life (who live nearby) want to try some, feel free to come on over.  I'll warm it up, slather some butter or jelly on it and we can sit and enjoy knowing exactly what we're eating and where it came from.

Barbies and Babies

Once I had decided I was definitely going to nurse Doodle, I knew it was pretty much inevitable that at some point Bug would try "nurse" her baby dolls.  This is just something little girls do (you can ask me sometime about how I nursed my "baby" discreetly after my little sister was born).  However, I was pretty confident it would just be her baby dolls (i.e. cute, cuddly dolls with stuffed bodies that come with every baby accessory that you can imagine stepping on...I mean, playing with).  But recently the daughter of a close friend was cleaning out her toys and decided to hand down her Disney princess Barbie dolls to Bug (Ariel, Snow White i.e. Snow Man in Bug's terms, Belle, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella).  Bug was THRILLED!  This was her first introduction to Barbie dolls and she loves their little shoes and taking off their pretty dresses.

Yes...taking off their dresses is what led to this mama being slightly disturbed.  It is fairly normal for Bug to pick up a baby doll when I'm feeding Doodle and "nurse" it.  It's also fairly normal for her to find a bottle and some tubing and tell me she needs to "pump."  But on this particular day, we were just driving to meet J for lunch.  She had her babies (Barbie dolls) in the backseat of the car and had decided they needed to be "nakie babies."  Then she said, "Mommy, I need to nurse my babies."  So I look back and see Bug stuffing the Disney princess Barbie doll under her shirt.  Now, it doesn't bother me at all when she does this with her cute, innocent dollies, but something about stuffing a very naked, very well-endowed, buxom Belle Barbie doll under her shirt just disturbed me!

Oh the Horror...on the Playground!

Bug is a very active little girl and LOVES to go to a park or playground.  Any one will do, she's never met one she hasn't liked:)  So Thursday evening after dinner we headed to one of the parks nearby.  I didn't like the older kids (age 12 or 13) sliding down the slides at the smaller playground so we headed up to the bigger playground at the elementary school.  It's a great playground and she was having a lot of fun...

...I'm not sure which part of what happened next disgusted me more.  In fact I'm still kind of processing it.  There was a mom with 2 little ones who each looked about a year older than my girls, so roughly 3 and 1/2 and 1 and 1/2.  The 3 and 1/2 year old was clearly giving her mother some attitude, but this mother was giving it back.  I guess the little girl had indicated that she needed to go to the bathroom so her mother told her they needed to go (Brace yourself...Horror #1), not knowing that it was already too late.  The little girl sat on the playground and muttered under her breath, "You stupid mom!"  I was shocked!  We are very careful not to use that word where little ears can hear, though I'm sure Bug has heard it occasionally.  Then, there's Horror #2.  As I said, this mother didn't realize it was already too late and that her daughter had already relieved herself.  Yep, you can probably guess what's coming...Little Girl had an accident on the sliding board, Bug didn't know the slide was wet (curvy tunnel slide so neither did we) and Bug slid right down the slide through Little Girl's accident.  There really wasn't anything more disturbing in that moment than looking up as Bug went running across the playground, seeing very wet shorts, sniffing them and picking up the scent of urine, and then knowing that it was the urine of another child!  I'm not a germ-a-phobe, but it still grossed me out. Bug was quickly changed into clean clothes, she happily continued playing, and she most certainly received a bath when we got home!  Lesson learned: Always look (or feel or sniff) before you slide!