Community (And Pickled Chioggia Beets)

"Anti-social media."

That's what my husband says when you bring up Twitter, Facebook, Google + or anything that incites or requires interaction through a computer or smartphone. He is, at heart, a huge people person. His business requires near constant contact with people - all of which he prefers to do face-to-face or at least on the phone.

His argument is that people think they have friends that they make or maintain friendships through social media, but that it's just superficial. Indeed, he merely tolerates my stories of people I've never actually met. He's not discounting that, once you've met in person, a friendship can grow.

I'll admit, some days I completely agree with him. Then I get a note from someone who reads the blog that is full of more support than a friend I've had for years has given. Or someone I only know from on-line shows up at my door with food, when no one else does on a bad day. Or I am heavily impacted by a tragedy that rocked the world of someone else.

Always remember, there is a real person behind that on-line presence.

That means you can indeed form a relationship with someone you've never met. Will it be as close as the one you have with your best friend since high school? Maybe. Maybe not. But it will still be valuable and important for its own reasons.

On the days that I do see merit in what he says, I take a step forward into my community. Not my on-line world, but the one that is literally outside my door. I take a walk and chat with the neighbour. I grab a beer with another mom from the preschool. I call my brother or sister to just chat about our kids. Nothing can replace a face-to-face conversation.

Because of those conversations I have beet pickles today.

There we were, minding our own business, devouring my husband's hamburgers in the backyard. Our front door was wide open, the dog was probably sound asleep, and the kids were already performing after dinner hula hoop tricks. Suddenly the back door opens and one of our neighbours walks through. In her hands was a grocery bag full of chioggia beets and a big bowl of apricots.

With family in warmer climates and friends coming through she was left with a pile of produce from her folks' backyard. Too much for her and her husband, she brought them over to share. And she knows I would happily accept because we've actually talked before. We live on a street where most of us make an effort to know each other. So she knew I would tackle the colourful produce with gusto and none would go to waste. (There is an apricot crisp in the oven for another neighbour who just had a baby.)

This is my community. Embrace the friends you have when they need it, whether with a quiet note or the full force of your arms. Embrace the shared journeys. Embrace the beets they bring to your backyard.

This was my first time making beet pickles. Inspired by the Pickling Party, hosted by Shauna Ahern from Gluten-Free Girl, and my neighbour. The recipe is a mish mash of ideas from memory, Aimee from Simple Bites, and the Harrow Fair Cookbook. Even my cooking is an amalgamation of my many communities!

Pickled Chioggia Beets

Makes 3 500 ml jars

2 1/2 pounds scrubbed beets, tops and stems removed

2 cups white vinegar

1 cup rice wine vinegar

3/4 cup water

1/2 cup sugar

2 tbsp pickling salt

1 tsp coriander seeds

1 tsp mustard seeds

3 cloves garlic

rosemary (optional)

1. Boil the beets in a large pot of water for 25 minutes. Make sure a fork will go through the largest beets easily. Drain and immediately place in a sink or bowlful of cold water. Once cooled use your hands and, if necessary, a knife, to trim the skin from the beets. Slice and set aside in a clean bowl.

2. While the beets are cooking clean and process 3 jars and the screw lids in a boiling water canner for 10 minutes. Keep hot in the water while you clean and slice the cooked beets.

3. While you prep the beets combine the vinegars, water, sugar, salt, and seeds in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil and keep hot, hot until ready to use.

4. Quickly drain your sterilized jars. Keep the water boiling.

5. While they are still hot add a garlic clove to the bottom of each jar, then fill with beets. Stop filling 1/2'' from the top. Carefully pour in the pickling liquid, leaving at least a 1/4'' from the top of the jar of space. Wipe the rim of the jar with a clean cloth and screw on the lid.

6. Process for 20 minutes in a boiling water canner. Do not start timing until the water comes to a boil after you add your jars.

(Why didn't the skeleton cross the road? Because he had no guts!)

(Said skeleton keeping the almost pickles company.)

Seven Tips for Dining Out as a Family

The first meal out for our family after having a baby was sushi. Our newborn slept in her car seat and I gorged on the fish that had been banned from my diet during pregnancy. It was bliss for everyone. Our last venture to that same sushi bar (last month) was a bit more raucous, with the girls not so quiet now. But they sat at the bar, ordered their favourite sashimi, and flirted with the host who gave them candy.

We can't imagine our lives without the opportunity to take the kids out for dinner. If we didn't take them we might not go ourselves with limited babysitting in town! But if you want to take your kids to a restaurant, whether it involves a giant golden M or serves fois gras, there are some basic guidelines. These are guidelines for parents, not rules for kids.

1. Start at Home

If you want your kid to sit at the table, eat, and not run around and scream at a restaurant table then you need to expect that behaviour at home as well. I know many a parent who struggles to keep their kids at the table, regardless of where they are sitting. While I can't provide any tips for getting them to stay in their seat - other than expecting the behaviour and enforcing it - if your kid can't sit at the table for 20 minutes then a sit down restaurant isn't going to be a successful venture for you.

2. Revise Your Dinner Expectations

When you take your kids out to dinner with you then your experience will not be that same as dinner out with your partner. There is no lingering over dessert, conversations are not usually about politics or money, and you will likely eat pretty fast. Dinner out with the family isn't romantic, but it can be fun. Keep your expectations in check, as well as your timing.

3. It's all in the Timing

Knowing when your kids need to eat and when they'll crash is important if you choose to eat out. Don't arrive at the restaurant at 6 if they are used to dinner on the table at that time. Be prepared to order an appetizer or the entire meal when they come by to take a drink order. And ask for the check right after your meal is served in case you need to make a speedy exit.

4. Choose Wisely

There is no need to limit your family meals out to fast food or even chain restaurants. Steakhouses, greasy spoons, and yes, fine dining are all acceptable. Do not take your kids to the best place in town if all they've ever eat are chicken fingers, you need to work up to that. Consider going to a nicer restaurant on a weekday, not on typical date nights on the weekend. Preview menus on-line or with a drive by to ensure there is something your kids will likely enjoy. Try brunch instead of dinner, it's faster, more likely to have preferred options, and is a more casual environment - even in a fancier restaurant.

5. The Art of Conversation

I'm not a fan of bringing toys and such to the restaurant, but I can see the benefit for other families. A run of the mill restaurant will sometimes provide the menu that can be coloured, or you could bring your own colouring book. Books, a small doll, a random car, or even an electronic device might also be effective in occupying your kids while you wait for food. It should go away when the food arrives though. We take the time in a restaurant to have a conversation - as effective as that is with a 3 and 5 year old. I also don't want to set the precedent that toys are commonplace when you go out for dinner. Each family will have to decide what is appropriate.

6. Lose the Kids Menu

Even the fanciest of restaurants sometimes have a kids menu. Ignore it. It may be fine dining, but they are often dumbing down the food in addition to smaller portion sizes. Instead, look to the appetizer or soup/salad portion of the menu. Alternatively, you can order one main course and split it among two or three children. Do not relegate your kids to a diet of chicken fingers or grilled cheese sandwiches. Or at least, save those for the nights you stay home when you don't feel like cooking.

7. Be Prepared to Leave

Yup, be prepared to get up and walk out without dinner. If your kids are misbehaving, whining, or generally being bad or disruptive, be prepared to leave without eating. Aside from showing restauranteurs and other patrons that you have control over the situation, you are also showing your kids that certain behaviour is not tolerated. Whether you let them eat dinner at home after that is another matter. (I would not, but that's me.) If you want your restaurant experience to be successful and repeated, then you need to set the precedent.

On the recent debate on Q, with Jian Gomeshi, Emma Waverman, and Simon Majumdar, the host and guests talked about a ban on kids in restaurants. While I squarely believe in the comments made by Waverman, it was this quote from Majumdar that sums it up. Restaurants want to ban kids, primarily because of crying and bad behaviour, and that "Boils down to wretched parenting."

If you want to take your kids out of the house - and we all need to at times - then you need to step up to the plate, plan ahead, and be clear on your behavioural expectations with them. A restaurant isn't always a break at dinnertime, don't treat it that way unless the kids are at home with the babysitter. Dinner out with the family is an opportunity for exploration, conversation, and treats.

Hula Hoops and Strawberry Shortcake

We ate strawberry shortcake for dinner the other night. Not for dessert, but for dinner. Just strawberry shortcake for dinner. And it was awesome.

Okay, I may have been more excited about it than the girls (Hubby was away). They ate their strawberries, picked at the shortcake and licked some of the cream. The Monster thought the macerated strawberries were a fun treat - I can suck out their juices like Jello, Mama!

I may have, ahem, finished theirs as well as mine.

And you know what? I don't feel guilty about this at all. It was a celebration of all that is awesome about summer. Days that involved nothing more than swinging, water fights, and mastering the Hula Hoop for the first time. Days that have your three year old running around the block naked because her clothes got wet and it's too much work to go inside and get new clothes. Days that end with dessert for dinner eaten outside with the sun in your eyes.

Strawberry Shortcake includes fruits, grains, and dairy. If that combo is more than okay for breakfast it is certainly fine for dinner. Of course, ice cream is also fine for dinner. Along with popcorn, pancakes, and cottage cheese with fruit salad. Dinner does not have to involve a protein, a vegetable, and a starch to be dinner.

Dinner has to be the gathering around the table; the moment when we stop, just for a second, to be together as a family. It is the time when we listen to a 5 year stammer through her excitement, the time we discuss pirates, a balanced diet, and why we can't fly to Australia for a day. It's the moment we refuel so the rest of the summer night can be spent with the Hula Hoop.

If I want to serve only dessert for dinner on a nearly perfect summer day, so be it. If you want to, then go for it. And if anyone complains or judges, then send them to me. I'll set them straight with shortcake.

This strawberry shortcake was probably the best I've ever made. I've made the shortcake a few times now, the recipe comes from Baking, by Dorie Greenspan. I've adjusted it to a more reasonable size for our family. It is about the flakiest, most balanced little biscuit cake in the world. Crumbly and fine, but with enough structure to hold up to juicy strawberries and ever so lightly sweetened cream.

Strawberry Shortcake for Dinner

Makes 6 shortcakes

1 cup flour

1/3 cup whole grain flour*

2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

2 Tbsp sugar

1 Tonka bean, grated (optional)

1/2 cup (1 stick) cold butter

1/2 cups cream

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment or a Silicon mat.

Whisk the dry ingredients together in a large bowl. Cut the butter into 1/2'' cubes. Using your hands, two knives, or a pastry cutter smash the butter together with the dry ingredients. I use my hands and squish it through my fingers. My 3 year old helps. It takes only a minute or two and the dough starts to look like a mix of flakes, crumbs, and tiny knobs of crumbly butter.

Remove your hands from the bowl, grab a fork, and pour in the cream. Stir together. If necessary, use your hands again to get it all to come together. The dough will be sticky.

Spoon into 6 piles on your prepared sheet. Shape a little and press down gently so they are no more than 1'' high. Bake for 12-15 minutes, until golden. Let cool for a couple of minutes on pan, then cool for a few more on wire rack.

To make the shortcakes you also need strawberries. Any other summer fruit would also work. Go with what's fresh and in season for you.

2 cups clean and sliced strawberries

1 Tbsp sugar

Combine the berries and sugar, let sit while the shortcakes and baking and cooling.

1 cup whipping cream

1 Tbsp powdered sugar

1 tsp vanilla

Whip the cream until peaks are just starting to form. Add the sugar and vanilla, whip until lightly firm.

To serve, top a cooled shortcake with a generous scoop of berries and top with a large dollop of whipped cream.

*I used my favourite, Gold Forest Grains, but you can simply use all-purpose flour for the entire amount.

Enforcement

3 hours.

My 3 year old sat at the table an hour for every year the other night. Just because she wouldn't drink her milk. And because we told her she couldn't leave the table until she did just that.

She cried, she took a bathroom break, she fussed, she tried to play, she desperately worked us for conversation and entertainment. We continued on with our evening - working, cleaning up, putting The Monster to bed (even though she couldn't sleep because she is quite used to her sister in the room), and I even made caramel corn. For 3 hours she sat there. At that point I subbed out the milk with a cold glass. She spilled that one. I cleaned it up and gave her another one. With a nonchalance that belied the battle of wills she simply picked it up and drank it.

Right now you either think we are cruel parents or are filled with admiration for our stick-to-it-ness. Or you think we're dumb. I'm going with all three myself.

A rule is a rule. We don't care if they don't eat all their dinner. As long as they've tried everything on their plate, they can eat as much or as little as they like. But they have to drink their milk. (Very lovely goat milk, I might add.)

As for us parents, our rule is that if we start down a path we don't cave. If the other says something we don't contradict. So even though we had a pile of things to do and actually needed the dining room table, we worked around her. It was exhausting, I'll admit. I'm proud of all of us for sticking to it. And the caramel corn went really nicely with a scotch once it was all over.

(I used this recipe, but subbed the syrup for maple syrup, added pecans instead of peanuts, and crumbled in some cooked bacon with the popcorn.)

And don't tell the kid, but I'm impressed with her. That stubborness will do her well as an adult, if she makes it there.

What are some of your dinnertime rules? What's the longest you've had to go to enforce a rule?