Under a Wheeping Willow Tree.

As I've said prior, it's my current goal to devise a Food Plan for my youngster, Master Beefy Cheeks himself, Aksel. 

I've been thinking about all things food for the last week or so, and I'm getting closer to making some decisions.


I've not yet shared, but my partner and I own a neighborhood restaurant.  We are fortunate for many things, a healthy child to start, but we are also lucky to have access to high-quality ingredients and a wide array of fruits and vegetables.

I want to be clear from the start however, I didn't grow up eating arugula, baby beets, and goat cheese, nor was I spoon-fed pureed samplings of roasted root vegetables, or organic fruits made of domestic manufacture. 

I wasn't even a breast-fed baby, but... most important, above all else, my parents LOVED me!

Like most parents out there, I want the best for my child.  I believe, and this is my opinion only, my little one deserves love, breast milk, and fresh produce.

1. LOVE
2. BREAST MILK
3. FRESH PRODUCE

Out of love, I recently bought Aksel's first cookbook, The Lee Bros. Simple Fresh Southern: Knockout Dishes with Down-Home Flavor, which was inscribed by a Lee brother himself...

To Aksel, 

We hope this brings great joy and fun – to your kitchen adventures!

Best,

Matthew & Ted

4.3.2010



____________________________________________________

Remembering Food:  A Few Thoughts

• I grew up across the street from a cornfield, and I nibbled on wild strawberries that grew on a patch of land behind my house.  I paid special attention, mind you, to avoid eating the deadly Night Berry my mother warned me of...  (Gullible to a fault, I just googled Night Berry out of curiosity, and go figure, it doesn't exist!)
  

• I rubbed feet, my parent's feet, for Wonka Bottle Caps.
  

• I spent my summer days filling buckets with baby frogs, examining cicada shells on warped lawn furniture, and devouring Little Debbie Star Crunch Cosmic Snacks by the box.

• I drank Aunt Ruby's sweet tea in large glasses, ate Salt Pork and homemade biscuits for breakfast, and refused, wholeheartedly, to eat Bumble Bee Tuna sandwiches!

• I laid many a' peach carcasses to rest under a wheeping willow tree on Uncle George's wide expanse of land and junk. (American Pickers, Mike Wolf and Frank Fritz, would have had a heyday pillaging through his dusty barns & shops!)

• I remember peeling potatoes, generously coating them with Johnny's Seasoning Salt, and going to work on their raw, starchy goodness!

On a more serious food note, the only time in my recollection, that my parents insisted I stay at the table for not eating a meal, was the fateful evening my mother prepared Shrimp & Wild Rice.  For some marked reason, maybe because I saw them with their heads & tails still on, I would not eat shrimp!  I remember wanting to give in, to just try, as my father pleaded, the little buggers, but my stubborn ways took lead, and I refused!  So I sat for many hours, attempting ever so often to bring the fork and foe to my mouth, but I never conquered my far-from-shrimpy, shrimp fear!

Regardless of my mother's cunning antics, I was never once fooled into believing there was a difference between shrimp and prawns!

_____________________________________________________

Mama's Boy-abaisse.

Stirring and Stirring and Stirring My Brew.

Beefy Cheeks.

I just shared a great weekend with my mother, my younger sister, Dannyelle, and my baby, Chef Aksel.  Together, we revisited and reproduced a distinct food memory from my youth -- Great Grandma Thea's Mountain-Made Noodles with Beef.  There's an interesting story to follow...

Also, we're going tomorrow, as a family, to a number of local farms.  It should be a memorable day worth writing about soon!