Meal

The Shared Buddha Bowls /  by Amy Cantu

Everyone has this moment. I open up the fridge, and all I have are leftovers that I don't particularly want to eat. And so I pull them all out and look at them: roasted butternut squash, spinach, and mushrooms, (the accompanying roasted chicken finished off during the last meal). I poke a piece of butternut squash with a fork. I wonder if my family will notice eating it for a third time in a row. I imagine myself trying to eat them yet again. I really don't want to. I make this low growly-groan sound that everyone in my family recognizes as "CrAmy" (Cranky Amy), and I decide to make the best of it. Fifteen minute quinoa, tofu cubed and roasted in the oven in under 30 minutes, a peanut sauce whizzed up in the blender, and suddenly we have a Buddha Bowl that even my five-year-old THANKED me for cooking. In these moments, I feel as if I've stumbled upon a miracle, however small, because a delicious, quick, healthy meal made from leftovers is something to celebrate in my house.

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Autumn Harvest Buddha Bowls

The Shared Packed Lunch /  by Cynthia Raub

Today was Olivia's first day of Junior Kindergarten at her beloved cooperative preschool. She has attended for two years as a preschooler and is now advancing to the next class that prepares her for kindergarten. Since her first preschool year, she would constantly ask when it would be her turn to be with the big kids in "JK". I'd giggle and tell her that she had to wait two more years. Last year I told her, "Only one more year . . . " and now the day is here. Somehow, I'm still unprepared for this year to start. We've been counting down the years and this summer we had counted down the days. Our family has made incredible friends and developed a strong sense of community with the children and parents at our school. I don't want to get too far ahead of myself, but I'm especially emotional that the year has begun because that means the year will end. That will mean my children are a year older, everyone will move onto their new schools and my friendships with invested and like-minded parents will be a little more difficult to maintain. But also, this year will be filled with the special traditions and milestones we have been looking forward to for the past two years.

This year is extra special for Olivia and me because this is the first time she will bring her own lunch to school. During meals throughout the summer, Olivia would exclaim that she LOOOOVED something she's eating and asked if I would pack it for her lunch in her new class. Together, we started a journal of all of her food ideas. This lunchbox of Orecchiette with Roasted Broccoli was first on her list, and she paired it with strawberries and nectarines. I added the small Nutella sandwich with sprinkles as a surprise for this special day, (she drew it in the picture and called it her "dream lunch"- how could I not oblige this small request?) Much like the special traditions the preschool has held for 70+ years, I hope both my girls will want to continue to collaborate with me on their school lunches for the years to come.

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Orecchiette with Roasted Broccoli

The Shared Cheese Puffs /  by Cynthia Raub

I am a low-key Francophile. I chose French to learn in high school because I loved croissants. Don't get me wrong, I also looooove burritos, but I was feeling angsty and emotional and croissants just seemed more complex and romantic than burritos. (Side note: I've grown since then and now I can get very romantic and emotional about burritos.) But high school French class was the genesis of my love for everything French - from the language, history of art, food, culture and even SPORTS?!?! (Tour de France). I met my husband when we both worked in a French bistro, and it was love at first cornichon!

Gougeres, (also known as cheese puffs,) are SO French: sophisticated, technical but simple, and delicious with champagne. These have been in heavy rotation in my kitchen for the past two months since I first made gougere's sister, the profiterole, (which is a sweet version filled with pastry cream or split open with a scoop of ice cream). They are a breeze to make. They are impressive and are perfect for any occasion. I originally made the profiteroles for a bake sale. Since then, I have made savory and addictive gougeres with a friend for a pot luck, to accompany dinner in our bread basket, and even for a casual afternoon wine tasting with friends. See? Versatile, delicious, and addictive. I'm convinced that once anyone has this in their cooking repertoire, it will become an instant classic that will never fail you.

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Gougeres (Cheese Puffs)

The Shared Shrimp Tacos /  by Amy Cantu

It's late. We had just spent three days hoofing it all over Disneyland, (24,600 steps per day, if you're counting,) in extreme heat. We had just arrived in San Diego to visit Grandma Sheryl and Grandpa Bob. My husband pulled into the driveway and began unloading what always turns out to be too much stuff from the trunk of the car, while I gingerly carry each child into the house as quietly as I can. We're exhausted. I feel the blisters on my feet with each step and my legs ache. As I groggily pull open the refrigerator, I start making a mental grocery list of all the things I needed to get from the store before heading to bed, so the kids would have have something that they would eat in the morning. Suddenly I hear angels singing, as I squint through the bright light of the refrigerator. I rubbed my eyes and wondered if I was hallucinating. Grandma Sheryl and Grandpa Bob had us covered - milk, fruit, iced coffee, waffles, bagels, sandwich supplies, and animal crackers - they had stocked up for us, so we wouldn't have to rush to a grocery store to feed ourselves or the kids! Angels!

I know in-laws get a bad rap sometimes, but I won the lottery with mine. Both sets of my in-laws welcome in our family zoo and are always eager to take the kids off my hands and usher me away to take a nap. (How do they know that I ALWAYS need a nap??? Do I look that bad . . . no one answer that. I'm just grateful.) They are early risers, so somebody (not me or my husband!) is always up when our first child wakes at 5:30 a.m. Did I mention angels? They are ANGELS! And so, after a couple days of lounging around with my feet up and calling out, "I don't know, kids, go ask Grandma or Grandpa!" I thought maybe I should repay some of this kindness with a family meal of Mango-Shrimp Tacos with Honey-Lime Slaw. These tacos are special enough to seem like a treat, but easy enough to pull together on a weeknight or just to say, "Thank you for being totally awesome!"

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Mango-Shrimp Tacos with Honey-Lime Slaw

The Shared Care Package /  by Cynthia Raub

As a young woman in my teens and early twenties, I felt invincible - my precocious mind and impertinent tongue kept my fragile ego safe from others. Deflection was a badge of honor, and I was proud of my acerbic wit - it caught people off guard and made them laugh, all while teetering on the edge of being inappropriate. This was all fun and fine as it was just part of my "charm" (for better or worse). But as my life's issues and problems began to morph from juvenile judgements and thinking way too much about other people and how they lived their lives, I started being more concerned and proactive about the life I wanted to live and who I wanted to be. 

An important part if this new growth and self-awareness came from a friendship with my college BFF. She was an fascinating open book: self-aware, vulnerable, honest in both her confidence and her insecurities. We would talk and she would share her feelings unabashedly, I would listen and say "yeah." She would ask if I could commiserate: have I ever felt self conscious like this? Have I ever felt angry like that? "No, not really . . . " I'd confidently say, unable to scratch the surface of my vulnerability.

Soon enough, she stopped sharing and she began responding to my questions in the same way I had answered her. She became a little unavailable and short of depth, providing fewer opportunities for us to connect. It didn't take me too long to realize what had happened and how or why things had changed. I realized that because she shared so much with me, I felt close to her. But because I didn't reciprocate, she didn't feel quite the same for me. I desperately began to share more with her in an attempt to halt her retreat. Slowly but surely, I realized that my self depreciation and honesty was a beacon: it was safe and called to others to approach with less apprehension. My relationships became fortified, I began to shed my prickly exterior - allowing others to poke around. Believe it or not, I still have a tremendous amount of self-work I need to do, but this awareness would not be possible without the realizations I had with this friendship. 

This dear friend recently became the mother she was always meant to be. I'm so excited for her family and this next stage of life! I hope, deeply, to be a beacon of commiseration through this amazing and overwhelming time for her. When mommy and baby were discharged from the hospital, I brought her this food-filled care package to welcome the new family of three home - lots of yummy treats and snacks to nosh on while they navigate their first week home. 

Follow us to one of the recipes:

Chicken Salad

The Shared Summer Picnic /  by Amy Cantu


I packed for efficiency and speed, with each item carefully curated: one carry-on suitcase filled with just enough clothes for the number of days I would be away on my girls' trip, no liquids in bottles over four ounces (so as to not anger the TSA gods,) slip-on shoes for the security line, boarding pass pre-printed and tucked neatly into the front pocket of my small travel purse, (no kids = no giant tote bag masquerading as a purse to hold the ten snacks, extra diaper, wipes, and water bottles). I tapped my foot nervously. I have not been away from the kids for five days EVER. I both wanted to bolt out the door and also start feigning illness to get out of going. Of course in this moment, their cherub faces were adorable and their good-bye hugs tugged at my heart strings. Can I do this? Can I be someone other than "mom" for the next five days? Yes. Yes, I can. I gathered up my littles for one last squeeze and pulled the door shut behind me. I could hear them wailing on the other side of the door, and my husband holding them back. "Maaaamaaaaa! MAMA!" I flinched and kept on walking. Five days. Five days of feeling like an individual again, releasing myself from the worry, guilt, and refereeing of small children . . . and also missing those same small children like crazy.

What does a getaway girls' trip have to do with a shared summer picnic? It's all about balance - in cooking and in life. If there's one thing that I've learned (and continue to learn), it's that too much of anything is just that: too much. I felt torn as I left for that trip, but when I returned, I felt renewed and ready to wrestle with the boys and cook for everyone again. This summer picnic is a metaphor for that revelation - a vibrant salad filled with summer vegetables and protein-packed beans balanced with a luscious, rich chocolate pudding. It's a picnic that is both nourishing for the body and nourishing for the soul because really, we all need a little of both to center ourselves in a world that too often feels so one-sided and stressful. When Cynthia and I shared this meal with each other, I just thought, how lucky are we to be able to balance our mom-lives with the love and passion we have for sharing food. I hope this Bean Salad and Easy Chocolate Pudding bring some much needed harmony into your lives too.

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Two Bean Summer Salad

Easy Chocolate Pudding

The Shared Craving /  by Cynthia Raub

My family has been on a homemade Pizza Night kick for the past few weeks. This entails my husband making the dough, then prepping the toppings with our daughters, all while I impatiently sit on the couch on my phone waiting for dinner to just be DONE. I know they would appreciate my hovering, unrelaxed presence in the kitchen, but most of the time I let the three of them enjoy the relaxing and fun project together. Anyway, there's really only room for three people to crouch in front of the oven, to watch the pizza crust expand and brown while the cheese melts.

Amy has made Pizza Two Ways before and I wanted to try my hand at making a homemade dough. I wanted to make the dough without the watchful eye of my chef husband, and I didn't feel like getting the kids involved because I'm just not a very fun parent. I was craving Chicken Shawarma and after telling Amy I needed the chicken in my life, she admitted to craving eggplant and then all we could talk about was how we REALLY wanted to eat our ideas. (This is why we are friends!) I'm not sure how it happened, but I think I bamboozled her into developing the unctuous and delicious recipe for Eggplant Dip with Caramelized Onions and Tahini to marry the pizza/flatbread and chicken together. I don't think she's put out though, since it turned out to be a tasty and fun afternoon that satisfied both of our cravings.

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Flatbread with Chicken Shawarma, Eggplant, and Caramelized Onions

Chicken Shawarma

Eggplant Dip with Caramelized Onions and Tahini

The Shared Labor of Love /  by Amy Cantu

Six and a half years ago, I called a huddle in the middle of my friend's kitchen with my bridesmaids. Our task: make 102 small jars of raspberry jam as favors for my upcoming wedding. The crazy voice in my head said, "This is noooooo problem. This is a completely reasonable task for your bridesmaids. Bridesmaids are just indentured servants right??? When else, (besides your wedding,) do you test the limits of your friendships?!" Yes, my inner-cuckoo was strong that day. Cartons upon cartons of raspberries were stacked up precariously around us, threatening to tumble down and bury us at any moment. I had never made jam before, let alone for 102 people, nor had I ever scaled a recipe to yield so many servings. What I did have were friends who clearly loved me enough to slave over a hot stove on a hot summer day to help me figure it all out. We churned out batch after batch of sweet, sticky, bright pink raspberry jam - each jar topped with a small square of floral fabric and painstakingly tied with a bit of ribbon. In that moment, I had never felt so loved by this group of friends who stood by me through all of my food-related (and non-food-related) drama, and again to bear witness to the love and happiness on my wedding day - the jam was truly a labor of love.

Once more, I found myself stirring together a big pot of jam, but this time with the help of much smaller hands. One of my besties had her seven year-old niece, Aaliyah, over for a visit, so together with my four year-old, Alex, we all gathered in the kitchen with a flat of peaches and a couple cartons of raspberries to make a yummy gift that Aaliyah could take home to her family. Raspberry Peach Jam and Buttermilk Biscuits! The kids couldn't wait to cover their hands in fruity goo! Their faces were wrought with deep concentration, as their little fingers nimbly peeled the skin from the peaches and scooped the flesh into a giant bowl. They giggled as the peach juices dribbled down their hands and arms and onto the counter. Again, my heart swelled with love, but this time because I was witnessing two small children learn the rewards of sharing and giving food with the generosity of their hearts.

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Raspberry Peach Jam

Easy Buttermilk Biscuits