Little Moments Like This

Ok, this idea has been brewing for quite some time...

If you have spent any time on my Facebook page, you have seen at least one of three things: posts about my faith, pictures of my family, and food. It's no secret that while God is the center of my life, the kitchen is the center of my home. It's where I think; it's where I pray; it's where I detox. It's a large part of my time with my girls and the place where I express my love for my family. This project is a way to (hopefully) combine all three into a lasting, searchable group of recipes, musings, and memories from which my daughters, my family, and my friends can benefit, reminisce, and track down that recipe that they really wanted to try themselves.

I hope that those that take the time to read or search through these pages come to understand, as I have, the vital importance of food, faith, and family - not necessarily in that order.

Butternut Squash and Baby Dutch Potatoes

Working in the school system has it's perks. One of those perks are those days off that provide a much needed "mental health break" for those who spend their days in the rewarding, yet often emotionally exhausting, field of education. I spend those days in a variety of ways. I like to work around the house. I don't mind cleaning, building, or the occasional home repair. I like video games and good movies. I like couch time and porch time when it's nice out. There are a variety of things that occupy my time, but I LOVE to cook. So today, around lunchtime, I began peeling and chopping, simmering and stewing, prepping for a little family time around the dinner table this evening.

My typical MO, especially when I'm alone, is to find a contemporary Christian station to blare in the background as I proceed to make way more of a mess than is, strictly speaking, necessary in to prepare a meal. It's my wife's second favorite thing about my time in the kitchen. The menu, as usual, started with what I had in the kitchen (or what mom had in hers that I could liberate.) A beautiful pork loin took precedence over the frozen chicken breast I had in my own fridge, and a few fresh peaches later, we had the start to a meal. Grilled Pork Loin with Peach Bourbon Glaze, Roasted Butternut Squash and Baby Dutch Potatoes with Sage Brown Butter, and Homemade Coleslaw.

Prepping the pork loin is easy. A little salt, a little pepper, and time to rest outside the refrigerator before heading to the grill and we're all set. As the meat was coming up to temp, I fell into the rhythm of prep work. Peel. Chop. Simmer. Stir. Clean (a little). Rinse and Repeat. There is something therapeutic about the work, and, with Mercy Me's "Grace Got You" playing in the background, something spiritual as well. I sang, badly, as pots bubbled and simmered and I rehashed a dessert from the night before. My grandmother, Mattie Lee, loved warmed, sweetened blackberries poured over biscuits often left over from breakfast. I routinely revive this little goldmine, because honestly, to me, it feels like home. The batter is a simple biscuit dough, lightly sweetened, and makes the perfect "cake" for a fresh fruit compote. Today, instead of blackberries, I used a mix of fresh strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries simmered with a sprig of basil.

Mixed Berry Compote

It was about this time that I got a little unsolicited help, and a reminder that some of my best memories centered around a bustling kitchen. My oldest daughter and my niece, when they are together, don't walk anywhere, and they don't do anything quietly. They bolted through the front door with enough force to rattle my teeth, and my tow-headed niece grins up, yells "Uncle Bat!" at the top of her lungs, and gives me the prettiest pucker in world. A big hug and a couple of kisses later, I'm back to work and they are off playing. The good thing about those two is that you never have to worry if they are okay; you can hear that just fine.

Now, don't ask me why, but there is something magical about left-over dough. It's not good for much: baby biscuits, tiny cakes, and the imagination of little boys and girls. I had two large handfuls after I had made my "cakes" and as I handed it over, eyes lit up and off they went. They kneaded and molded, cut and built. And they laughed. They laughed about nothing, as only children can, as they made dough monkeys and dough bears, and made dough nuts out of themselves. Why do I love to cook? For moments like this:

Oh, and the finished product wasn't too bad either: Full bellies, empty plates, and time spent with family. It doesn't happen nearly enough in this fast-paced world, but when it does it should be cherished for the blessing that it is. I know, now, why my grandmother spent so much time in the kitchen: If you cook it, they will come.