The Nacho Revolution

Both Daddy and I grew up loving baseball in all forms: playing it, watching it, collecting baseball cards. It was one of the things that attracted us to each other and keeps us together -- today, we center our vacations around MLB cities and home games (Twins this year, whoohoo!). So, you can imagine our delight when we discovered that Elli seems to be falling for our beloved sport. Case in point, the other night she fell asleep clinging to her Disney princess-themed bat and ball set. What better way to commemorate her initiation into the Baseball Fan Club than to have her help make a ballpark staple dish. Say it with me: "Mmmm, nachos." But ordinary nachos are so, well, ordinary, not to mention rather unhealthy. So, I went the Jamie Oliver Food Revolution route and decided to reinvent this fan favorite, substituting virtually everything about traditional nachos with a healthier alternative....except the Velveeta. Sorry, Jamie, there is no substitute for Velveeta when making nachos. May I introduce you to... The Nacho Revolution 1 pound ground turkey (instead of ground beef) 1 small onion, chopped (for added flavor and veggies) 1/3 packet Williams Chilli seasoning mix (sodium-free alternative to taco seasoning) 3 medium peppers, seeded and cut into bite-size pieces (instead of tortilla chips...just go with me on this one) 1 can black beans, heated (instead of refried beans) 8 oz Velveeta, cubed 1 1/2 cups salsa Light ranch dressing for drizzling (instead of a dallop of sour cream) 1/2 cup crushed low-fat tortilla chips for topping (adds just a taste of salt; try all-natural Tangos Fire Roasted Veggie -- 1/3 cup veggies serving per ounce) Cook turkey and onion until meat is browned and onion is tender; blend in seasoning mix until meat mixture is evenly coated; remove from heat. Combine Velveeta and salsa in microwave-safe dish; heat in microwave for 5-6 minutes or until Velveeta is melted, stirring halfway. For individual servings, spread pepper "chips" onto plate, top with meat, then black beans, then Velveeta-salsa mix. Drizzle lightly with dressing and top with a handful of tortilla chips. The pepper "chips" were inspired by Elli. She loves, loves, loves peppers raw. As you may remember she once tried to eat one whole through the produce bag. I thought maybe she would enjoy this use of the peppers. For this recipe, I pretty much did all the prep, and brought Elli in when the cooking and cutting was done. In other words, she came into the kitchen with two of her favorite things gleaming like jewels in front of her on the kitchen counter. "Cheese!" she exclaimed, climbing up her steps to reach the counter. "That's not all, Elli. Look at this." I pointed at the spread of yellow, red and green pepper "chips." She smiled and crammed the first chip into her mouth. "Just don't eat them all right now," I said. "We have some cheese to move." She helped me transfer the cubes of Velveeta into a Corelle dish. The salsa was next, and I just happened to have just about the right amount of salsa left in a jar. So, Elli took the reins, commanding the salsa jar like a pro. And don't even think she did any less impressive in getting the black beans in a small dish. Did I mention she loves black beans. Like, l-o-v-e-s them. As far as she is concerned, that's the only thing worthwhile at Mexican restaurants. When everything was warmed up, Elli's role became assembly line worker. "First, we put down the peppers," I said, showing her how to place the peppers in a group on her plate. "Now, we put down the meat." Mommy handled that part. And for the black beans, it was back in Elli's court, with Mommy helping guide the spoon from the dish to the plate to minimize the bean juice spillage. Then I drizzled some Velveeta-salsa combo onto the pile -- just enough to give some taste, but not so much everything was swimming in orange. She helped me squeeze just a swirl of the ranch dressing onto the top, again just enough for a little kick. Last but not least came the crown of crushed tortilla chips. I handed Elli a cereal bowl full of crushed chips and showed her how to take a pinch and lovingly scatter it onto the pile of nachos. drop it on the pile of nachos.

What a gentle touch! Of course, the big test for such a recipe is whether it will please the traditionalist palate. Although some of you may have thought the pepper chips sounded asinine, believe me when I say that they work beautifully! They add the crunch without the calories. And they are mild enough that the flavor you get it from the other ingredients. If anything, the yellow pepper adds just a hint of sweet to the scene.

The nachos really were good. But don't take my word for it. From Daddy: "It's really good." And from Elli: Couldn't agree more, sweetheart! Overall Ratings for The Nacho Revolution (5 being the best): Elli-friendly cooking: 4 (assembly was more her speed than the actual cooking part) Elli-friendly eating: 5 Simple: 5 Fast: 4 Frugal: 5 Plea of the Week: Check out Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution and his petition for healthier school lunches!

Yoo-Hoo Shake-Its!

Last weekend, we traveled back to my childhood home to visit. I don't get back often, so when I do, it's like being bathed in memories. There is a story for every person I meet and landmark I see. So many stories to tell Elli some day, about 4H, and big yards for playing baseball and cruising Main Street on Friday night, and riding in the Sierra with Papa drinking Yoo-Hoo. Mmmm, Yoo-Hoo. Seems like my childhood hometown sells it in every convenience store. My mom used to ask me, "Why do you drink chocolate water?" I never had an answer besides, "It's 99% fat free." I drank two Yoo-Hoos in 24 hours during our visit, savoring every taste. I began to think what a shame it is that Yoo-Hoo is not used more often in recipes (at least, in recipes outside of bars). So, I decided to do something about that. Elli agreed to help. If you are a fellow Yoo-Hoo-ligan, join us in raising a glass of... Yoo-Hoo Shake-Its 1 cup plain vanilla frozen yogurt 1 15 oz bottle Yoo-Hoo, chilled Place both ingredients in a blender. Blend until smooth and frothy. Drink. Enjoy. As soon as the carton of frozen yogurt hit the counter, Elli was clammoring for a bite. "Ice ceem, wit spoon," she said. "We're going to scoop the ice cream out and put it in the blender." "Wit spoon." "Yes, with a spoon." We scooped out the frozen yogurt, dropped it in a Pyrex measuring cup, then dumped it into the blender. Elli promptly reached in after it. "Wait a second," I said. "We need to add the Yoo-Hoo." Elli stopped in her tracks as if I were speaking a foreign language. 'Yoo-wha?' her little face said. I held up the bottle with the unmistakable bright yellow label. "This is Yoo-Hoo. It's chocolate. We're going to pour it on top of the ice cream." She nodded, reaching for the bottle. "Open?" "Well, we need to do one thing first." I pointed to the red lettering on the top of the bottle. "Do you know what that says?" She examined it closely. "It says 'Shake it.' And that's what we need to do. We need to shake it up." I handed her the bottle. "Go for it, big girl. Shake, shake, shake." She giggled, clasped the bottle and shook with all her might. "Excellent. Couldn't have done it better myself." I popped off the lid and together we poured the contents of the bottle into the blender. "Time to push the button. Would you like to do the honors?" She did. The blender whirled, and I anticipated our first taste of this yummy treat. "Let's have a taste, yes?" "Yes." I poured a littel into a small mug for her and a regular mug for myself. Elli immediately gathered up her mug and sucked in a taste. I waited with bated breath. Would the treat really be as good as I had built it up in my mind? Would the ice cream drown out the flavor of the Yoo-Hoo? Her assessment (watch video): My little sous chef was exactly right; it did need more frozen yogurt. I needed not worry about the ice cream overpowering a chocolate drink that has 52 grams of sugar per 15 ounces. A little bit more frozen yogurt did the trick. We clinked cups and toasted with a hardy "Yoo-Hoo!" Overall Yoo-Hoo Shake-Its Ratings (5 being the best): Elli-friendly cooking: 5 Elli-friendly eating: 5 Simple: 5 Fast: 5 Frugal: 5

Question of the Week: Let's take a vote. Who likes Yoo-Hoo?

Breakfast Bake of Champions

Remember that day when you looked at your child and realized she was not a baby anymore? That happened to me the other day when Elli essentially took over in the kitchen. Like a proud coach watching her prize athlete perform a flawless routine, I watched Elli in her little apron pouring and mixing and mashing and smiling her way through this latest recipe discovery from Taste of Home.

Weekend Breakfast Bake

1 pound bulk pork sausage

1/2 cup chopped onion

4 cups shredded Monterey Jack or cheddar cheese

8 eggs, lightly beaten

1 can condensed cream of mushroom soup, undiluted

Cook sausage and onion over medium heat until pork is no longer pink; drain. Transfer to a greased 13x9 baking dish. Sprinkle with cheese. Combine eggs and soup; pour over cheese. Bake, uncovered at 400 degrees for 30-35 minutes or until a knife inserted near the center comes out clean. Let stand for 5 minutes before cutting.

I had cooked the pork and onion and let the mixture cool in a mixing bowl prior to Elli coming into the picture. And for those of you still keeping tally, I am down to 3 pounds of sausage from the Gift of a Third of a Pig from last fall. I can see the light.

With the meat ready, Elli helped me first spray the baking dish with cooking oil. Then, we were ready for the meat mixture.

I pointed to the bowl. "Can you pour that meat into the pan?"

"Mmm'hmm," she replied and cradled the large bowl in her arms. At first I was a little nervous about how this might go, remembering in vivid detail the time she helped me sprinkle sausage on Daddy's Birthday Pizza...and all over the floor. But when I saw her patience and strength in handling the bowl, I worried no more.

What form! Look at that precise positioning of those precious little hands!

"Now can you spread the meat out, like this?" I pushed some of the meat out from the center of the mound she had created on one end of the pan. She quickly followed my lead, creating an even meat crust. "That's perfect. It's time to add some cheese." I consulted the recipe again. "Four cups?! Geez." I was afraid the cheese would overrun the casserole. It didn't, by the way. "Well, Elli, looks like we're going to use this whole bag. So, I'll open it, and you can dump it in the pan. Sound good?"

"Eddi dump cheese."

"That's right." I tore open the bag and handed it to her. "Can you dump the cheese in the pan?"

Look at that. Not a single shred over the side, onto the floor. I give it a 10.

"Let's spread out the cheese, just like we did the meat," I said.

She didn't need an illustration this time; she just carried through.

Total concentration, folks. Couldn't ask for more from such a young cook.

The tricky part about the next step was keeping Elli from eating the eggs. Though she is tremendously more discriminant than she was about what she puts in her mouth, I did catch her today munching on sand. I kept her busy by helping me count and crack all 8 eggs. She is going through a thing right now where she is very physically reactive to sounds she knows or thinks will be loud. The sound of a vacuum makes her leave the room; the stand mixer's buzzing motor makes her cross her arms over her chest, wince and say, "Dat's scaredee." I guess she thought the sound of an egg crack would rival that of either one of those. Each time we were about ready to crack the egg on the side of the bowl, she cowered a little and srunched up her face, preparing for impact. I thought maybe by egg 4 she wouldn't be so nervous about the noise, because really it's not that loud, but she was still intimidated by it. It was kind of sweet, and I would have taken a picture, had my fingers not been smeared with egg yolk.

My hands were free on the next step. And that's because Champion Elli took over beating the eggs. Actually, she had a different verb to describe it.

"I smash, I smash!" she insisted, reaching for the wisk in my hand.

"All right, you can smash. Let's see you do it."

Brilliant. Best smashing in history. The eggs stayed in the bowl, and we moved on to dumping in the mushroom soup. She had perfect aim in smacking the bottom of the can to coax the soup out.

Slllloooop! out slid the soup into the bowl, and Elli smashed some more.

"Gorgeous, Elli. Well done. Only thing left to do is pour this over the cheese. Think you can handle that?"

"I pour."

"Go to it."

Though I was confident she could pour, I guided her on where to pour, making sure we got every corner of the pan. When we were done, Elli leaned over the pan, took a big sniff and declared, "Mmmm, dat smell good!"

"It does?" I looked at the soupy goop in the pan. "Well, OK, if you say so. But I'm sure it will smell so much better after it's cooked." I covered the pan with plastic wrap, and Elli held the refrigerator door open as I gingerly placed the pan on the top shelf. When I pulled my hands back, Elli took her cue and shut the door. She then erupted into applause.

"Yea! Did it!"

Spoken like a true, independent victor.

Overall Weekend Breakfast Bake:

Elli-friendly Cooking: 5

Elli-friendly Eating: 5

Simple: 5

Fast: 4

Frugal: 4

Question: What is your favorite recipe using sausage? (I have 3 pounds to go!)