Griffin came downstairs early this morning while I was working. I asked him if he needed a banana or something to tide him over until breakfast. He said, “Yes, I’ll go look in the fruit basket.”
A few minutes later, after hearing furniture moving around and cabinet doors banging, Griffin returns, holding up a box of cookies and a bag of jelly beans.
And lest anyone think he was passing up last month’s shriveled plums, we maintain a well-stocked shrine to the fruit gods.
Griffin, this morning, while eating some fresh biscuits that we made together:
“Isn’t ingredients like magic? You put them together and they turn into something!”
Then, a few minutes later, “I think I want to be a magician.”
This is hardly an ambitious recipe, but while on solo-parenting duty this weekend, I remembered how much I loved Pigs in Blankets as a kid. Griffin was excited about the idea, so we decided to do it from scratch. We bought old fashioned wieners from the butcher down the street and eschewed Bisquick. They were delicious, so I thought I would jot down the recipe we used here, for future reference.
1 cup  flour
½ tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cold, cut into small pieces
¼ cup grated cheese (we used sharp cheddar)
½ cup buttermilk
6 hot dogs
Then the usual dough making operation: mix dry ingredients, cut or massage in the cold butter until crumbly, mix in cheese and buttermilk (don’t over-mix). We rolled the dough out lightly on a floured board (again, trying not to overwork the dough) and cut into six similarly sized sheets. Wrap dogs, bake on greased sheet at 400° for ≈12 minutes.
At breakfast this morning, Griffin was moments away from nuclear meltdown over some spilled water. Time to whip out the phone and make a movie!
Photographed in front of our house at 6:30 am, August 5, 2013.
“Hey Dad, I really want to play Uno every day.”
“Ok. Sure, let’s play Uno every day.”
“I mean, every day until we die.”
Griffin’s great-grandfather was a legendary sandwich maker. He would happily pile anything between two pieces of bread, add some peanut butter, and call it good. I recall a sandwich he made for me once that included, among other things, peanut butter, walnuts, prunes and salad dressing. As a child, I was horrified by many of his creations, but I did develop a taste for peanut butter with just about anything. (One of my favorite sandwiches remains peanut butter, salami, and pickles… really good.)
I’m proud to say that Griffin has inherited the sandwich gene. Up at the yellow cabin on Saturday, he gleefully requested the following ingredients: peanut butter, jelly, cheese (he wanted four varieties, but volume considerations dictated fewer), roast chicken, salami, pickles, and wheat thins. Upon tasting the result, he declared that it was “the goodest sandwich in the whole world!”
Griffin, much occupied with career thoughts these days, is now considering the world of fashion design. Two hours before attending a wedding yesterday, I went into my closet where I had set aside my best summery linen shirt for the occasion. Griffin, attempting to reboot my wardrobe, had made some alterations.
Note the asymmetrical slashing—very fashion forward. Worried that I might fall back on other shirts, he proceeded through ten shirts with a similarly whimsical Jack-the-Ripper mystique. These were, in fact, my ten best shirts; I had put them at the front of the rack as I considered which shirt to wear to the wedding. (And, my wardrobe does not overflow with wedding garb.) Griffin astutely ignored the oversize denim and flannel, the maroon corduroy, the checkered seersucker, the ink-stained taupe, and any shirts missing buttons. Luckily for the bride and groom, my little fashionista missed a duplicate oxford at the far end of the rack, so I was able to attend the wedding in something other than my Republicans for Voldemort t-shirt.
Time to go shopping. And lock up the scissors.
The salsa is fantastic with the pork on a warm summer night—fresh, sweet and spicy. We used jalapeños for the peppers. The article in The Week, where we got this from, talks about how food guidelines have recently changed such that whole pork cuts are considered safe at 145 degrees rather than 160. Much juicier!
Heat a gas grill to high, or build a medium-hot fire in a charcoal grill. Meanwhile, combine ½ cup cilantro, ¼ cup shallots, 4 tbsp lime juice, and ¼ cup vegetable oil in a resealable plastic bag. Add pork, seal bag, and turn to coat. Marinate pork at room temperature for at least 15 minutes and up to 8 hours, turning occasionally.
Meanwhile, combine cherries, chile, olive oil, and remaining ½ cup cilantro, ¼ cup shallots, and 2 tbsp lime juice in a medium bowl. Season salsa lightly with salt and pepper and set aside to let flavors meld.
Remove tenderloins from marinade and season generously with salt and pepper.
Brush grill grate with vegetable oil. Place tenderloins on grate and cook, turning frequently, until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the center of pork registers 145 degrees, about 15 minutes. Let rest for 10 minutes. Cut into thin slices and serve with salsa. Serves 6.
From The Week, July 7, 2013.