After starting this blog, the influx of recipes coming my way has been tremendous. I'm very grateful to all of those who have forwarded recipes and offered tips. I read every one! Recently I was given a recipe that I knew Elli and I should try as soon as I read it. Shout out to Beth. She forwarded a recipe from the magazine All You (I had never heard of it until she told me about it). The magazine includes, among many other things, quick family-friendly recipes such as the one Beth alerted me to:
Weeknight Ravioli Lasagna
1 1/4 cup marinara sauce
1 20 oz package refrigerated cheese ravioli
1 10 oz box frozen chopped spinach, thawed and squeezed dry
8 oz shredded mozzarella cheese
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
Lightly grease an 8x8 backing dish. Spoon 1/4 cup marinara over bottom of dish. Cover with half of ravioli. Spread half of remaining sauce over ravioli. Sprinkle with spinach and then half of mozzarella. Repeat with remaining ravioli, marinara and mozzarella. Sprinkle top with Parmesan. Cover with foil and back at 375 degrees for 30 minutes. Remove foil and back until bubbling, about 10 minutes longer. Let cool for about 5 minutes before serving.
Reading the recipe I saw a great opportunity to work with Elli on spatial relationships: on top, below, beside, etc. It's like a lesson on prepositions hidden in a recipe. Glorious. She'll be diagraming sentences by preschool. I could also introduce her to one food I have come to love as an adult. Yes, that lovely, underappreciated spinach. She's normally a veggie lover. How could this not turn out well? Turns out, the recipe put us in contact with the spinach right off the bat.
"Whas dat?" she asked, pointing at the unwrapped box of thawed spinach in the sink.
"That, precious girl, is a box of spinach. The spinach is very wet. We need to squeeze out the water, like this." I picked up the box and squeezed down. Green-tinted water streamed out. Elli's eyes lit up as if I were squeezing the bath water out of her rubber duck (which makes her giggle every time). We're off to a good start.
"It's doocey!" she squeeled.
"It's very juicy," I agreed.
She wanted some of that action. "Eddi do it!"
I helped her hold the box. "Here we go....squuueeeeze!" The water rushed out, streaming down her arms. She laughed.
"Skeeze!"
We squeezed again and again, the water coming in smaller and smaller streams until finally we got most of the water out.
"Open," she instructed me.
"What do you say?"
"Peas."
I opened the box and she looked at the contents quizzically. "That is the spinach," I told her. "Can you say spinach?"
"Pin-etch."
"Want to try some?" She picked up a little pinch of spinach and put it in her mouth. Sign #1 your child will never again consider placing spinach in her mouth: She suddenly grows very silent when it hits her tongue.
She spit it out and said, "No pin-etch."
Despite the obvious, I held out hope, thinking that maybe if the spinach is covered in sauce and ravioli, she won't even notice she's eating it.
We moved over to the counter to begin the layering process. I had Elli hold the 1/4 cup measuring cup while I spooned out the right amount of sauce from the jar. "Now can you pour it in the pan?" I asked, pointing at the measuring cup and then at the baking dish.
She did it perfectly, and as I was spreading the sauce out in the bottom of the pan, Elli looked over at the opened package of ravioli and asked, "Whas dat?"
"That is ravioli."
"Radeedoughdee."
"Ravioli. I need you to help me put the ravioli in the pan. Let me show you how." I put the first piece in the corner of the pan. Then I grabbed another and told her,"I'll put this piece next to this piece. See that? Can you put another piece next to this one?" I pointed to the spot I meant. She reached into the package, picked up a ravioli, examined it, then put it down in the pan where my finger was pointing.
"Can you put another one next to it?" She repeated her process exactly, up until the point of placement, choosing a spot on the opposite side of the pan. "Nice. Keep going. Let's put some more ravioli in the pan." She grabbed the ravioli one by one and placed them carefully into the pan, in no particular order, which is to say in "toddler order."
When she had placed what I estimated was about half, I told her it was time to put the spinach on top of the ravioli. I showed her how to grab a little bit of spinach and put it on top of the layer of ravioli.
"Just like that. Okay, now your turn." She grabbed a fistful of spinach and plopped the hunk down on the ravioli. I could practically hear the hunk smack the ravioli when it fell. "That's big. Can you tear it up to make it small?"
She looked at the hefty wad of spinach slowly denting the top of the ravioli and replied flatly, "No." She instead picked up another hunk and put it next to the first one, and then another one.
Those three hunks equalled half of the spinach. I pulled the box out of her reach and showed her how to tear the spinach into small pieces. She watched me, unresponsive to my prompts for help. Sign #2 your child won't consider putting spinach in her mouth: She does whatever she can to avoid being in contact with it for too long. With the spinach in smaller quantities, I grabbed the bag of cheese.
"What's this, Elli?"
"Cheese!" she exclaimed, as if saying, "Ah, my old friend. How delightful to see you again."
"Where does it go?" I asked.
"On top," she replied. Oh, she's good. Getting her to touch cheese, not a problem. With the first layers complete, I picked up the jar of sauce and together we poured what I estimated was half all over the layers, then we started again with arranging the ravioli.
I was wrong on my estimate of half of the ravioli. It was just a wee bit crowded on that layer, but it all works just the same.
"What is this?" I asked Elli, showing her the half-empty box of green stuff.
"Pinetch!"
"Where does it go?"
"On top!" she said, patting the ravioli. This time I broke up the spinach for her before she grabbed handfuls; worked so much better...when she actually picked up the spinach, that is. I realized at this point that perhaps an 8x8 pan is not big enough because the layers easily surpassed the top of the dish. I smooshed the layers down a little, which helped some. After we had completed the last layer of cheese and sprinkled on the Parmesan, I put a few toothpicks throughout the pan to keep the foil off the top layers. When I had put the pan in the oven, I turned to Elli and said, "All done. Now all was have to do is clean up." I set up about wiping off the counters, and Elli did her part by cleaning off the measuring cup.
She did it perfectly, and as I was spreading the sauce out in the bottom of the pan, Elli looked over at the opened package of ravioli and asked, "Whas dat?"
"That is ravioli."
"Radeedoughdee."
"Ravioli. I need you to help me put the ravioli in the pan. Let me show you how." I put the first piece in the corner of the pan. Then I grabbed another and told her,"I'll put this piece next to this piece. See that? Can you put another piece next to this one?" I pointed to the spot I meant. She reached into the package, picked up a ravioli, examined it, then put it down in the pan where my finger was pointing.
"Can you put another one next to it?" She repeated her process exactly, up until the point of placement, choosing a spot on the opposite side of the pan. "Nice. Keep going. Let's put some more ravioli in the pan." She grabbed the ravioli one by one and placed them carefully into the pan, in no particular order, which is to say in "toddler order."
"Just like that. Okay, now your turn." She grabbed a fistful of spinach and plopped the hunk down on the ravioli. I could practically hear the hunk smack the ravioli when it fell. "That's big. Can you tear it up to make it small?"
She looked at the hefty wad of spinach slowly denting the top of the ravioli and replied flatly, "No." She instead picked up another hunk and put it next to the first one, and then another one.
"What's this, Elli?"
"Cheese!" she exclaimed, as if saying, "Ah, my old friend. How delightful to see you again."
"Where does it go?" I asked.
"On top," she replied. Oh, she's good. Getting her to touch cheese, not a problem. With the first layers complete, I picked up the jar of sauce and together we poured what I estimated was half all over the layers, then we started again with arranging the ravioli.
I was wrong on my estimate of half of the ravioli. It was just a wee bit crowded on that layer, but it all works just the same.
"What is this?" I asked Elli, showing her the half-empty box of green stuff.
"Pinetch!"
"Where does it go?"
"On top!" she said, patting the ravioli. This time I broke up the spinach for her before she grabbed handfuls; worked so much better...when she actually picked up the spinach, that is. I realized at this point that perhaps an 8x8 pan is not big enough because the layers easily surpassed the top of the dish. I smooshed the layers down a little, which helped some. After we had completed the last layer of cheese and sprinkled on the Parmesan, I put a few toothpicks throughout the pan to keep the foil off the top layers. When I had put the pan in the oven, I turned to Elli and said, "All done. Now all was have to do is clean up." I set up about wiping off the counters, and Elli did her part by cleaning off the measuring cup.
The Ravioli Lasagna was a hit, even though my pan was a bit too small and Elli did break my heart by refusing to eat the spinach. In a last-ditch effort, I tried to convince her that spinach was grass, hoping the novelty was enough to get it in her tummy. No avail. She further crushed my spirit by picking off each strand of spinach from the pieces of ravioli before eating the ravioli. Sensing my love for the spinach, she would kindly hand it to me as she picked it off.
Maybe next time I'll use half the amount of spinach or use spinach and cheese ravioli instead of the plain cheese. I'll probably also prep the lasagna ahead of time if Elli is assisting instead of trying to make it all in one night to make it truly "weeknight" friendly in our house.
Maybe next time I'll use half the amount of spinach or use spinach and cheese ravioli instead of the plain cheese. I'll probably also prep the lasagna ahead of time if Elli is assisting instead of trying to make it all in one night to make it truly "weeknight" friendly in our house.
Things Elli Could Do:
What couldn't she do?
Overall Weeknight Ravioli Lasagna Ratings (5 being the best):
Elli-friendly cooking: 5
Elli-friendly eating: sigh, 4 if you remove the spinach
Simple: 5
Fast: 4
Frugal: 4
Question of the Week: What food do you wish your child (or you, for that matter) liked?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Elli would love to know your thoughts.