Girl Detective

I’ve noted before that I’m remiss in reading things my husband G. Grod recommends to me. Last May, he forwarded me a link to an article at Salon about the Five Second Rule. In my defense, I was kinda busy. But a recent spate of articles about the five second rule reminded me that I needed to go back to the article at Salon, and I’m glad I did. I thought it was hilarious. Here’s a quick summary of the latest news on the 5-second rule (5SR):

In 2003, a high school student, Jillian Clarke, dropped gummy bears and pieces of cookie on smooth and rough tiles coated with E. coli. Food was contaminated in less than five seconds.

In April 2007, a group at Clemson published tests of bologna and bread on various surfaces contaminated with salmonella. Unsurprisingly, they found that contamination level depended on the type of surface, and the length of time of the food on the surface.

In May 2007, students at Connecticut College announced the results of their tests of wet apple slices and dry Skittles. They chose the college cafeteria floor as their bacterial environment. The apple slices showed bacteria after a minute, and the Skittles after five minutes.

Harold McGee at The New York Times formulated “the five-second rule, version 2.0: If you drop a piece of food, pick it up quickly, take five seconds to recall that just a few bacteria can make you sick, then take a few more to think about where you dropped it and whether or not it’s worth eating.”

After the Clemson study, Andrew Leonard at Salon saw the 5SR as a parenting tool, an “ability to create, in the person to whom these words are addressed, a sense of proportion and sanity and rough-and-ready competence to deal with the uncertainties and disappointments of life.”

Late to the party but pretending not to be (the Clemson study was published in April, not last month), Monica Hesse from The Washington Post notes that it’s not just about science, but sociology (how gross do you want to look to your friends), biology (how sick do you want to risk getting?), and situational ethics (how tasty is the food, and how nasty is the environment?)

My personal interpretation of the 5SR, which I’ve employed since I had Drake (many people mistakenly assume it’s the type of perspective that comes with a second child) is simply: is there visible dirt? If not, it’s good to go. Not scientific, but definitely practical.

It had some inane moniker, but really, it was just a clip show. It was nice to see Tim Gunn again, and some of the clips from seasons 1 and 2 made me want to watch them, but again, this was just a clip show.

Of the season three eliminations, Cliff is unsophisticated, but aw-shucks sweet and sincere. Sandee should have gotten a clue by now that poached didn’t equal barbecue. Camille’s strength does not lie in verbal communication. Micah was off-putting, as evidenced by her flip announcement that she’s African-American. The only elimination I regret is Lia’s. She looked calm and composed, and had only nice, balanced things to say.

My family made the jaunt down to Cedar Summit farm in New Prague, MN this past Saturday. Things looked pretty grim as we forgot the directions, overshot our exit by 17 miles and ended up in Faribault, by which time both Drake and Guppy woke and commenced a particularly painful screaming session. We did make it to the farm, though, and got to see the cows who give the milk and cream we buy. Guppy’s conversation was mostly “hi!” and “moo!” while we were there. Drake and G. Grod took a tour of the farm while I saw a presentation by a farmer from Moonstone farms. I enjoyed the cooking demo and learned some things about cooking grass-fed beef: bring to room temp before cooking, cook lower and slower and for less time than conventional beef, go for rare if possible. Both Guppy and I enjoyed the Moonstone Farms seared beef with carrots and cuke in a lettuce wrap. We all ate local wild-rice bratwursts from Pastures a Plenty and Cedar Summit ice-cream cones. I waited too long for a cup of my favorite root beer, 1919 (made by Schell’s Brewery in New Ulm, MN); the keg got tapped. Ah well, the Minnesota State Fair is only a month away.

Future dates for MN foodies:

MN Cooks at the State Fair: Sunday August 26, 2007

Beef and Blues (music and cheeses) at Cedar Summit Farm: Sunday September 9, 2007

From The Environmental Working Group:

The House is dangerously close to passing a bill that’s almost identical to the current unfair Farm Bill — the one that’s been paying subsidies to millionaires and dead people instead of family farmers.

Support for farmers transitioning to organics. Healthier school lunches. More funds to feed hungry children and seniors. Protection of water and wildlife. The 2007 Farm Bill could do it all, but time is running out for reform.

Call your Representative today and ask them to support the Fairness in Farm and Food Policy Amendment.

The “Fairness Amendment,” offered by a bipartisan group of legislators, will put America on a new course for family farm and food policy.

It will provide a more reliable safety net for America’s organic and family farmers at less cost to taxpayers and provide new resources to address our country’s hunger, health, environmental, and fiscal priorities.

Take action now. The Farm Bill is on the House floor this week.

If the bill being considered is passed, over 50% of all farm spending will continue to flow to just 4% of congressional districts. And too little will be done to fund organics, feed the hungry, help the environment, and promote healthy food choices.

Today, I’m presenting your 30,000 Grow Organics petition signatures to our allies in the House. But we need one more push for a fair Farm Bill.

Please make the call today. It only takes a few minutes to ask your Representative to support Farm Bill reform.

You can make the difference.

Cows! Music! Tasty treats! Saturday July 21, 2007 from 1 p.m. to 6 p.m. in New Prague, MN.

Episode 4: Cooking by Numbers. Casey won the quickfire of what to pair with a Bombay cocktail (reminding me that I’m interested in What to Drink with What You Eat), and then promptly abused the privilege when she was put with Howie and Joey on a team. She got all bossy boots during the planning, didn’t encourage their ideas since she was immune, and then made the crappiest dish of all the chefs. If Howie or Joey had been eliminated, she would have had much to answer for.

Good for that team, then, that the dessert course was truly dreadful. Dale’s ideas–dessert and a pineapple theme–failed spectacularly. He admitted to feeling guilty about Camille’s elimination, but I thought she dug her own hole. She readily agreed to Dale’s idea of dessert, and claimed to know something about pastry, though her very basic idea of upside-down cake looked dreadful. She was inarticulate in response to the judges’ queries, and I thought she deserved to pack her knives.

Episode 5: Latin Lunch. When the cooks are given frozen pie crust for the quickfire challenge, Joey admits he knows a little about pastry, which he didn’t cop to on last week’s ep. I was bothered by the fact that he later lied outright to the guest judge and said he didn’t know pastry. In any case, he won the quickfire challenge, and immunity, and went on to almost win the elimination challenge, but graciously gave kudos to his new best bud Howie. I suspected that either Lia or Casey would be eliminated because of the clip shown early on where they commented how close they’d become, and how they had each others’ backs. Casey’s dish sounded quite bad–dry chicken, overcooked rice, and a bitter, unpleasant sauce. But Lia’s polenta was deemed worse, perhaps because it was both ill-prepared and not very Latin, so she was asked to pack her knives. I would have preferred to see Casey sent packing, since she abused her immunity the week before while Lia won. But that might just be mean-spirited me; I dislike Casey’s overly coiffed, made-up, and accessorized presence. I also suspect Hung is going to go sooner than later. Not only is he a spaz in the kitchen, but his self-awareness is pretty dim.

P.S. Padma Lakshmi has requested a divorce from Salman Rushdie. Quel surprise.

“The Minimalist” Mark Bittman lists 101 easy summer recipes. (Link from A List of Things Thrown Five Minutes Ago.) I met Bittman at a cooking demo and book signing, and he sent me a copy of his How to Cook Everything that included the CD after I said I couldn’t find it. I then failed to find an address for him and so have never thanked him. He’s a good cook, a good food writer, and a good guy. I can’t wait to try these recipes.

In case you haven’t heard already

Gerber Products Company, a division of Novartis Consumer Health, is voluntarily recalling all packages of Gerber ORGANIC Rice and ORGANIC Oatmeal Cereals due to a potential choking risk. A limited quantity of product may contain lumps of cereal, which do not dissolve in water or milk and pose a potential choking hazard. Gerber has received choking complaints, but no reports of injury. The FDA is aware of this recall.

According to The London Free Press,

Gerber dominates the U.S. baby-food market, with the company holding a 79 percent share, according to Morgan Stanley.

Instead, look for Earth’s Best Baby Food, a brand of the Hain Celestial Group, owned in part by the HJ Heinz company. This is one of many examples of corporate-owned organic food companies.

My friend KT sent me a link to the Environmental Working Group petition. I’m very anti-forwarded email, but I’m very pro-organic and anti-junkfood, so this is a cause close to my heart.

From the EWG website:

Are you satisfied with having just 3% of the fruit you eat free of potentially dangerous pesticides? How about 2% of vegetables? Or less than 0.02% of corn?

Right now, those are the percentages of organic produce available in grocery stores.

Fortunately, the EWG Action Fund is working with Congress to make sure organic farmers get their fair share of federal funds to improve access to healthy alternatives.

You can help right now by signing the EWG Action Fund’s Grow Organics petition. Their goal is 30,000 signatures by July 15!

More information on what they’re doing is in this article from the New York Times.

A great way to support organics is to buy them! Increased demand results in increased supply, which results in lowered costs. I buy organic, local food whenever possible at my local grocery cooperative.

More discouraging recall new for parents. Veggie Booty, a staple snack in our family that Guppy particularly loves, has been linked to cases of Salmonella. Throw out any bags of Veggie Booty in your house, and keep an eye on your little ones for symptoms.

We have no Booty in the house right now, and though 16mo Guppy has eaten it regularly for many months now, he hasn’t gotten sick.

Sars at Tomato Nation writes about the perfect orange/vanilla ratio. Like Sars, I’m a longtime fan of all things Creamsicle-y.

From Wikipedia:

Creamsicle is a brand name, also owned by Unilever, for a frozen dessert which resembles an ice pop, with a center composed of vanilla ice cream, and an exterior layer of flavored ice frozen around a wooden or plastic stick. Popular flavors for Creamsicles include orange and raspberry.

American National Creamsicle Day is celebrated on 14 August annually.

I loved the Hostess orange cupcakes far more than their chocolate counterparts. Homemade orange cupcakes with cream cheese frosting are a healthier version of them. I recently made a float of Sonny’s blood orange sorbet in a glass of Natural Brew Vanilla Creme Ale. The orange scones at Au Bon Pain and Barnes and Noble have helped me when I’m craving that orange/vanilla combo. I haven’t gone as far as Sars did to pursue orange/vanilla perfection, but I can empathize with the worthiness of her quest. I am now off to make a Creamsicle Smoothie, recipe from Cooks Country, 8/2005.

Creamsicle Smoothie

Makes 5 1/2 cups
1 (12-ounce) can frozen orange juice concentrate
2 small bananas , roughly chopped (about 1 1/2 cups)
1 1/2 cups vanilla yogurt
1/2 cup orange juice
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Mix all ingredients in blender until smooth.

Like Lauren at television blog Everybody Loves Saturday Night, I’m very much missing Bravo’s Project Runway, but Top Chef is ably filling my guilty pleasure of reality television. Like PR, TC has a room full of artists who are given escalatingly inventive challenges each week. They face time and budget constraints. In the end their creations are judged by a panel that includes chef Tom Colicchio, Padma Lakshmi (married to Salman Rushdie, and who flaunts a long scar on her right arm that she got from an auto accident), Gail Simmons of Food & Wine magazine, and a guest judge, most often Ted Allen, formerly of Queer Eye. The TC judges panel is nowhere near as snarky as that of PR, but there’s still lots of criticism that might not be entirely constructive.

The first two shows’ eliminations weren’t suprising. Both Clay and Sandee were much less experienced than other chefs in the competition. While Tre seems to be an early favorite (not unlike Michael Knight of PR3), I think Hung might be the chef to beat.

What engages me about both shows is how creativity and performance can either bloom or wilt under pressure. I couldn’t do what they do, but I enjoy watching what they do.

For his ten-page piece “The Art of Sushi,” from the June 2007 issue of Vanity Fair, Nick Tosches traveled the world to observe the economy and art of sushi from the market to the meal. The long article both informs and tantalizes. He describes a meal at Sugiyama, in New York, a restaurant that doesn’t have sushi (characterized by sweetened rice) though it does serve raw fish:

First, a course of monkfish liver, vinegared baby eel, which seems to have been filleted, and a jelly cake of crab and vegetables. (Later, I find out that the “baby eel,” noresore, which I assumed to have been filleted, is actually pre—baby eel–the flat, transparent larvae, whose season is brief and now, of the Japanese conger.) Then slices of raw bluefin tuna, raw bluefin toro, raw hamachi, raw hamachi toro, raw tilefish, steamed octopus, ama-ebi (sweet shrimp; the sweetness is in the meat of the brain), a raw Kumamoto oyster, and a fragrant spray of small, purple shiso flowers. Then a clear soup of seaweed, whitefish cake, bamboo, and asari (a sort of springtime Japanese littleneck). Then grilled black cod from Toyama and crisp-roasted mild green peppers. Then half a lobster (served with a spoon to blend the soft, dark meat of the head into the white tail meat) and shiitake and oyster mushrooms. Then a miso soup with straw mushrooms and seaweed. Then minced grilled eel, tilefish, and bonito steamed in a mixture of botan rice and sticky rice, wrapped in a large, salted houba leaf, served with pickled Japanese radish. Then hoji tea, which Sugiyama-san describes as “sticky” tea. He means it was made from tea twigs, and “sticky” is to be taken as an adjectival form of “stick,” which in fact turns out to be the first definition of the word in the Oxford English Dictionary. Then a grapefruit-and-cream thing, invented by Sugiyama-san many years ago, made from hand-squeezed grapefruit juice, powdered sugar, lemon, Chardonnay, and scotch–all of which, magicked into a chilled semi-solid sphere, somehow ends up seeming to be an idealized peeled grapefruit, with no fibrous membranes, no pulp, no pits–served in very cold cream with a sprig of mint.

At Masa, which Tosches notes is probably the most expensive, and best for sushi, in the world, he had a meal that cost upwards of $1100:

baby firefly squid (hotaru ika) in a sauce of Japanese mustard (karashi) with rape-blossom buds (nanohana). Then chopped raw toro topped with caviar. Then seared bonito (katsuo tataki) with crispy seaweed (ogo), woodland ginger and bamboo (myoga take), wasabi greens, and those little purple shiso flowers. Then steamed asari clams from Chiba in their broth. Then icefish (shirauo)–tiny, almost translucent fish with buggy little black eyeballs which can be had for only a few weeks in early spring–served in sizzling white-sesame oil with Kalamata-olive paste and sprigs of newly budded prickly-ash leaves (kinome). Then a hot pot of cherry trout (sakura masu), whose season also lasts only a few weeks in spring. And then, after the kaiseki overture, the sushi feast begins.

Each piece of sushi is prepared individually and served immediately, as Takayama-san slices the fish, reaches into a cloth-covered barrel of rice, applies fresh-made wasabi paste to the side of the sliced fish that will be pressed to the rice, and, piece after piece, forms perfect sushi with dexterous rapidity in the palm of one hand with the nimble fingers of the other, placing it before you on a stoneware dish. He tells you to eat it with your hand….It’s really just a matter of preference, but you don’t want to piss this guy off while he’s feeding you. You’re given a small bowl of shoyu, into which only certain sushi should be dipped, and another small bowl of pale pickled ginger to be nibbled between courses.

The toro sushi is first. Then, in succession: striped jack; fluke; sea bream; snapper; squid; ama-ebi (the little shrimp with the sweet brain); cockle; red clam; giant clam; baby scallop; Nantucket scallop (freshly caught by a diver who sells only to Takayama-san and a few others); grilled toro sinew; herring; horse mackerel; uni; octopus; cooked shrimp; sea eel; freshwater eel; shiitake sushi; black-truffle sushi; a seaweed-wrapped roll of chopped toro and green, negi onion; young ume, a sort of Japanese plum, enclosed in a shiso leaf.

“And that’s all,” says Takayama-san with a smile.

After this dense article, I am curious where my favorite Twin Cities sushi restaurant, Origami, gets its fish. I’ve never yet been to Kikugawa; their menu has a kaiseki teishoku that sounds compelling. Most of all, though, I’m hungry, and reminded again that eating sushi at the bar, piece by piece, omakase-style (chef’s choice), is the best way to experience it.

A few more ideas occurred to me that might make good gifts for the moms in your life.

Noise Reducing Headphones Not for walking out on the street, but oh, wouldn’t these be nice at home?

Nice Watch So Mom can take off the battered, bathproof Timex that keeps track of timeouts and falling-asleep intervals. My husband and I are fans of Nixon watches, which they sell locally at Lava Lounge.

Teapot and Loose-Leaf Tea Twin Cities treasure Tea Source ships! They carry single-person pots that hold enough water for about two and a half cups. The House Earl Grey is wonderful; I get raves every time I serve it. I also like their herbal tisanes (see their informative site to find out why herbal “teas” aren’t really tea). My longtime favorite is Evening in Missoula. I also like Starfire Licorice, Margaret’s Soother, and Earl Red.

Did you think Mothers Day was invented by Hallmark? It’s been around for longer than that. Some research dates it back to Cybele (pronounced with a hard C, short Y and long E at the end: KIH-buh-Lee) worship in ancient Greece. The American version is largely based on a post-Civil War peace manifesto. The English version, Mothering Sunday, was reportedly begun so working class domestics could have at least one Sunday off a year to visit their mums, and so the mums could have off to receive the visits. Whatever the origin, though, there’s little disagreement that mothering is a tough gig, and few begrudge moms the day as tribute to that.

Some very good news for moms: the Mommy War is more a media invention than an accurate portrait of reality:

Most women today have to work: it’s the only way their families are going to be fed, housed and educated. A new college-educated generation takes it for granted that women will both work and care for their families — and that men must be an integral part of their children’s lives. It’s a generation that understands that stay-at-home moms and working mothers aren’t firmly opposing philosophical stances but the same women in different life phases, moving in and out of the part-time and full-time workforce for the few years while their children are young.

In this week leading up to Mothers Day in America, think about the mothers in your life. Not just your mom, or your spouse’s mom, but all the mothers: friends, siblings, co-workers, neighbors. Give a mom a break this week. If you hear a screaming kid and judgment flashes through your brain, offer help instead. And think of pretty, comforting things, big or small, that might make a mom’s day a bit brighter:

Card Papyrus carries, and Marcel Shurman makes, lovely ones.

Flowers I love yellow roses and dislike lilies. Do your loved one a favor. Ask what she likes, and avoid carnations, daisies, baby’s breath, and alstroemeria, unless specifially requested. Gerbera daisies are an exception.

Chocolate Twin Citian’s are fortunate to have both B.T. McElrath (I love the passionfruit and dark chocolate truffles) and Legacy Chocolates (Potion No. 9) readily available.

Accessories Little blue box or big orange box, brand recognition can be a lovely thing. I love the blue/green En Duo ribbon pattern.

Books I recently recommended Jill Murphy’s Five Minutes’ Peace and Kate Atkinson’s Behind the Scenes at the Museum. Both take wry looks at the mundane reality of mothering small children, though Atkinson’s book is both funny and tragic. For self-examination and spiritual growth, I recommend Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Gift cards for www.amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Border’s, or your local book shop are always good ideas.

Ice Cream Did you know that you can get Graeter’s ice cream shipped? Now you do. The chocolate chip flavors are stunning.

Ice Cream, Again Twin Citians, you’ve got a lot to love.

Fancy Dinner at the best restaurant in your city. Twin Citians, this is ours.

Music Fun and Booty-Shakin’ (Justin Timberlake’s FutureSex/Lovesounds), Local (new Low album!), Singer/Songwriter male (Rufus Wainwright’s Release the Stars), Singer/Songwriter female (Patti Griffin’s Children Running Through), Sophomore effort (Arctic Monkeys’ Favourite Worst Nightmare)

Movies Go out to a theater that serves good popcorn with real butter (Heights, Riverview, or GTI Roseville in the Twin Cities), or stay in and watch the vastly underrated Children of Men, Alfonso Cuaron’s chilling look at a future without mothers.

If you have other ideas, email me and I’ll post them, too.

My unexpected gift, today? That baby Guppy is still napping, which has allowed me the time I needed for this link-a-palooza.

And if you were bothered by my lack of apostrophe in Mothers Day, get over it. Apostrophes are one of the most misused and unnecessary pieces of punctuation. Here’s a long explanation of why I can leave them out. But do you get what I mean when I say Mothers Day? Then you see my point.

I visited Pumphouse Creamery, at 48th and Chicago in Minneapolis, soon after it opened, when I was pregnant with Drake. None of the flavors at that time spoke to me. I asked the person behind the counter for a recommendation; he suggested strawberry. I had high hopes of the place, since one of the Twin Cities weird strengths is awesome ice cream with fabulous flavors. (Don’t believe me? I find your lack of faith disturbing; see below*.) Pumphouse, adjacent to longtime local treasure Turtle Bread Co., and using local, organic cream and ingredients, seemed like it would be a slam dunk.

I ate the strawberry ice cream in disappointed disbelief, and raged to my husband G. Grod, “How can this ice cream be disappointing? I love ice cream even when I’m NOT pregnant! It’s local! It’s organic! It’s fresh! What’s wrong?” I ignored Pumphouse for nearly four years in favor of other local ice cream parlors*.

Last night, though, I happened to be at Turtle Bread and decided to give Pumphouse another try. Oh, happy day! Not only did many of the flavors speak to me, but they fairly started an argument over which of them I should try. In the end, I chose a double of Lemon Curd and Blueberry Buttermilk over the Cookies and Cream made with one of my favorite food groups, Newman Os. I can’t speak for what I didn’t choose, but the double scoop was a delight. Sweet blueberry enlivened with the tang of buttermilk, contrasted with the tart, creamy richness of lemon curd.

YUM. Check out Pumphouse.

*My favorite Twin Cities Awesome Independent Ice Cream parlors, and some of my favorite flavors:

Crema Cafe (Cardamom/Black Pepper)
Sebastian Joe’s–this year’s City Pages Best Ice Cream Parlor (Pavarotti: Caramel, Banana and Chocolate; Raspberry Chocolate Chip)
Izzy’s (Oh, the adorable Izzy scoop; it makes choosing both easier and harder. And the Izzy Pops! Tiny scoops of different flavors dipped in B.T. McElrath dark chocolate and put on a stick–so Minnesotan!)
Adele’s Frozen Custard (not technically ice cream, but worth the trip)

I woke Friday morning with a severe spike in my already considerable irritability. It was not long before I was angry and cursing aloud in front of the kids, which I’ve learned is a sign of rising anxiety for me. I sent off a quick email to a retreat center to see if they had any space. We have a babysitter helping us with childcare for now, so I left soon after she arrived, and went first to a yoga class, then to my regularly scheduled therapy appointment. I returned home better, though not feeling calm, and had almost forgotten about my inquiry to the retreat center. When I checked email at home, they’d replied and had a last minute cancellation at the hermitage, their private cabin for a solitary retreat. Figuring that the universe seemed to be answering my request, I said yes, then sent off a few emails and made some calls to alert friends that G. Grod would be on his own for the next 36 hours and could use some help with the boys.

My friend Becca recommended the ARC retreat center to me, and I will thank her forever for it. I’ve now gone twice, and it is a haven. The hermitage cabin has just what it needs and no more. Since I tend to anxious overdoing, I took way too much with me, but sorted things out when I got there.

Once I could think clearly, I realized what I did and didn’t need.

Did need: book, journal, fiction notebook.

Didn’t need: laptop, City Pages, two Entertainment Weekly’s, five books to review for the blog.

I also probably didn’t need any toiletries other than sunscreen, toothpaste and toothbrush. (And I would’ve liked to have fluoride-free toothpaste, since the cabin doesn’t have running water.)

The staff at ARC is wonderfully supportive, and the food they make is vegetarian, hearty, sustaining AND delicious. There was fresh bread at almost every meal, some wonderful gingered beets from a recipe in Sundays at Moosewood. I had a restorative 36 hours. During that time, I tried and succeeded at doing only one thing at a time; I didn’t multitask. I didn’t read while I ate (or in the outhouse). I also tried, and mostly succeeded, at not making a to-do list. I did one thing at a time, and allowed myself just one, “and then”. This worked surprisingly well, probably because I was in a tiny cabin in the woods by myself and chose to limit my options to: eating, sleeping, reading, journalling, novelling, and walking.

I have a huge crush on the book I took with me, that I finished this morning in between my first breakfast (yogurt with strawberry rhubarb sauce and granola, bread and butter, coffee with almond biscotti) and second breakfast (egg scramble with cheddar cheese and hummos). It’s Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.

READ THIS BOOK. It’s funny, sad, honest and intelligent and it’s got some GREAT stuff on religion and spirituality. Gilbert is instantly accessible and empathetic. My only quibble (oh, I always have one, don’t I?) is Gilbert’s overuse of male pronouns for God. A little equal opportunity time for goddesses would have been lovely.

I came back this morning rested and with some little reserve that helped me to handle the boys screaming and poking and crying that has sporadically filled the day. I really needed to get away, and I’m so thankful and fortunate that I could do so. Thanks, G. Grod. Thanks, friends who helped G. Grod. Thanks again, Becca. Thanks, ARC staff. Thanks, whoever cancelled your hermitage reservation. Thanks, Liz Gilbert for writing an awesome spiritual memoir. Everybody rocks.

I completed an outpatient hospital program last Friday for post-partum depression and anxiety. It was a brief, intense program designed to help those in a recovery rut who don’t need full-time hospitalization. There are two partial programs in the Twin Cities. The more well known is at Abbott, but they didn’t have space, and the one at Fairview did. I had an excellent experience at Fairview. The combination of group therapy, individual checks, and patient education led me to a variety of insights. I had time and space to learn and think, far more than I’d been able to fit into the brief interstices of full-time care for two small children. My last day I felt full of optimism, and brimming with possibility.

The happy mood passed over the weekend as 14M Guppy became sick and clingy, spiked a fever, and then kept us all up between 1:30 and 4:30 am today. Lots of screaming and little sleep wreak havoc with my anxiety-prone nerves. Additionally, one of my coping strategies, ear plugs, backfired and I got an ear infection. So not only can I not use the ear plugs, but I have to take ear drops. Instead of making a peaceful and leisurely entry into the new week, I had to spend time at the doctor’s office and the pharmacy.

On one hand, it feels like I’m being unfairly punished for the time I took to attend the program at Fairview, and curtailed from following up on the aftercare plans I’d begun. On the other, I have enough perspective to know that all things, good and bad, pass. A friend once joked that they may pass like a kidney stone, but they’re gonna pass. I also know, all too well, that I plan and the universe laughs, and that life sometimes is unfair and difficult. So I’m trying hard not to take the recent setbacks personally and to muster what humor and energy I can to have another go tomorrow.

One of the things I enjoyed most about being at Fairview was its proximity to the North Country grocery cooperative. They had a great selection of deli and takeout food and drink. I tried something new nearly every day. Walking to the coop allowed me both fresh air and exercise. I had spinch/feta, lemon/leek, and mushroom/keff boughatsa and baklava from Gardens of Salonica. I tried the Flex, Radiant, Calm, and Focus flavors of the Airforce Nutrisodas. I made a huge mess when I shook my Kombucha too hard. Both the Gingerade and the Trilogy flavors were very good. From Sushi Express, I had a veggie maki combo. I enjoyed the avocado spring roll so much I got it twice. I also got a slice of tater tot pizza from the Seward Cafe, as well as their Goddess Bar and Ranger cookie. I don’t know where the Key Lime and Sweet Potato Pie tartlets came from, but those were also excellent. The good food and friendly staff at the North Country made my time at Fairview go all the more quickly and pleasantly.

In case you’ve ever wondered how my mind works, here’s an example. One day, a friend had a water bottle with cut-up strawberries and bananas in it. Interesting idea, I thought, but it looks kinda gross. Someone else asked her about it. She said she read that it’s something Katie Holmes does. You know, one of those “diet tips” in magazines to humanize celebrities who probably don’t actually eat fruit, they just use it to flavor their water.

Later in the day at the grocery cooperative, I saw a display of Vitamin Water. “Wow, I wish they still had that lemon-cucumber one,” I thought.

Picture a lightbulb over my head. I bought a lemon, and a cucumber, which together cost less than a bottle of Vitamin Water. Each of the next few days, I put slices of both in my water bottle, refilling throughout the day, and washing thoroughly at night.

This is NOT an example of how I think I’m clever. In fact, I think it shows my mind is working at less than fantastic speed these days, no surprise given my depression. It is, though, an example of how my mind ties together this ‘n’ that, often around food-related things, (gossip magazine + sadness over defunct product + “this experiment doesn’t even require cooking” = “hey, look at me go”) and coughs up something interesting.

My husband G. Grod and I went out Saturday night, and a babysitter stayed with the boys. Since we often find dinner AND a movie rushed and stressful, we opted for just dinner, since life lately has been so busy and loud that we would welcome the chance to talk. We went to Midori’s Floating World, which is a lovely oasis of a Japanese restaurant in South Minneapolis. I go there when I’m feeling depleted; its menu is full of restorative gems. I drank the genmaicha green tea from their extensive tea menu, then I had the tempura rice balls, the green forest salad with kombu onigiri (sea vegetable rice ball), and green-tea over rice garnished with emerald flakes of nori. G. had a few nigiri rolls, the tempura California roll, and udon noodles with fried tofu.

After dinner we were well and truly full. Since we needed a little time before dessert, we browsed for watches at Uptown’s Lava Lounge, which is a way-more-hip store than either of us pretends to. But they do carry some fun watches. G. Grod liked this Vestal, the Nixon Graduate with blue face and black band, and the Nixon Banks with orange face. I liked the orange Chalet, and the girlishly impractical crystal Elle, which worked better worn a little large on my wrist.

We stopped next at Crema Cafe, home to Sonny’s ice cream. G. Grod had their signature flavor, Crema, which is espresso infused cream. After sampling the citrus/chili/kaffir lime sorbet, I went with the chocolate fudge ice cream; its slightly dry texture highlighted a good punch of chocolate.

Home again, we stayed up late to watch three episodes from the previous Thursday’s Toby-hosted, HR-nightmares Office marathon. I love the Office. It makes me laugh, though sometimes simulataneously while cringing.

It was a lovely night, but it felt a bit like payback when both boys woke at 4:30 a.m. demanding alternating attention, so each got a short nap later that morning, but neither G. Grod nor I did. We were very grouchy on Sunday.