Overheard in the Wolfe House #238
Sam (slapping the wall in the other room): Goodbye, mosquito!
Try the front row
The kids and I sat behind a family with three wiggly boys at Mass this morning. It didn’t take long for Michael, now a coach at Easter Seals, to notice that the youngest one was likely on the spectrum. I noticed, too, and remembered when my children could be that wiggly.
I thought for a moment about tapping the mom on the shoulder and offering her a tip, but then I remembered how I felt about advice from well-meaning strangers and kept my thoughts to myself.
Our church has Mass in the round. The altar is in the center of the room. It provides a good view for everyone, if you’re a grown-up. If you sit in the back, whether at St. Philip’s or at a church with a traditional layout, your kids seen only all the big people around you. But if you sit in the first row — and you have about six chances with a church in the round — all of the proceedings unfold right in front of you.
Mark had a bold idea when our church, St. Philip the Apostle in Lewisville, opened its new worship space in 1997. We wouldn’t sit in the back. We would sit right up front. If the kids wiggled, they would wiggle right onto the floor. And, they could see.
The first couple of times were a little scary. But it worked. The kids actually wiggled less because they could see what was going on. And, when they came back from children’s liturgy, they didn’t have to work too hard to remember where Mark and I were sitting because they only needed to scan the front rows.
I can’t remember when we realized the kids were calm enough that we could sit in other spots. But I do remember we started picking spots that would let Sam avoid the incense during the Gospel reading. He would slip out into the narthex and then slip back in at the end of the Homily, when it was done smoking so much. Eventually, we found a spot where the smell wasn’t as strong and we sat there so he could stay all the way through the service.
On the way home, as we shared our observations of the new Family Wiggly, I asked the kids if they could remember sitting in the front row and whether they liked it better. Could they see better? Did they know we did it so they wouldn’t wiggle so much? None of them could remember a bit of it.
Sam did remind us however, that while it may have been years since we’ve sat in a front row, we did for Mark’s funeral Mass.
Amen to that, Sam. Amen.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #237
Peggy (to grandparents via Skype): Do you want to see Paige’s birthday cake?
Sam (noting the pile of buttercream and strawberries): It’s not much of a cake.
Words My Dog Knows
I have a Blue Lacy dog named Gus:
He will be 12 years old this year. Over the years, he has learned many words and phrases. He understands basic commands such as come, sit, stay, and down, of course. But let’s explore some of the more interesting words Gus knows.
Uh-oh. Gus knows when this is uttered in the kitchen to come a-running because something delicious just fell on the floor. Say it in another room and he ignores you.
Time for toothbrush. He follows you to the pantry for those chews that ostensibly clean his teeth.
Squirrel. Nothing more needs to be said.
Crow. Like squirrel, little more needs to be said, but he looks up in the sky.
Time for work. He barks at you until get your boots on. Same goes for, let’s get the paper, or walk, or outside, or take the trash up.
Tractor. Sam never says a word, but Gus knows when he puts in the ear protectors, it’s time to bark because the 2N is heading out into the orchard.
Get ’em up. This was very useful when we had more livestock here, for example, when Michael’s cashmere goats would get out of their pen or the chickens needed to be hustled back in the coop. In 2005, I thought about dispatching him to the Texas Legislature when they made one of many messes they’ve made with school financing at the same time they declared his breed the official state dog.
Given what’s going on in Austin this week, I may yet send him down there.
Get ’em up, Gus.
Venison steaks
Another favorite venison recipe, as promised, from Chili, two ways.
The first thing Mark often cooked after a successful hunting trip was the venison backstrap, or tenderloin. I know some people soak the meat in buttermilk or wine to smooth out any gaminess that might be in the meat, but Mark rarely did that.
Instead, he would cut the meat on the diagonal into small medallions and dredge them in flour that was seasoned with salt and pepper, fry it in a bit of cooking oil and then serve it up with mustard. Pretty delicious, just like that.
Sometime ago, I stumbled across a recipe that took advantage of the little bits left behind in the fry pan that made a nice sauce, and that’s the way we’ve served it since.
If you want to make the sauce, choose a cast-iron pan and olive oil for frying the venison — a scant tablespoon per pound of meat. After removing the meat from the fry pan (keep it warm on a platter nearby), pour about a 1/2 cup of stock into the pan to pull up all the bits. With the heat on very low (so you don’t curdle the sauce), add a teaspoon each of dijon mustard and horseradish, and 2 tablespoons of Greek-style yogurt. When it’s hot, plate the steaks and pour the sauce over.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #236
Peggy: What’s on your mind there, Sam?
Sam (gazing to the ceiling): I don’t know. Trying to refresh it.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #235
Paige (trying to see Sam’s Hollywood beard): Wait, Sam, did you shave?
Sam: I should. It feels like cactus.
Chili, two ways
Up north, we made chili with tomatoes, kidney beans and very little beef.
I know. The horror.
When I came down to Denton to go to college, my roommate, Terri, a San Antonio native, and I would make chili with buttermilk biscuits from her recipes. Another roommate, Charlene, a Houston native, would dump her chili over Fritos and put chopped onions and grated cheddar cheese on top.
Over time, the family recipe for chili has evolved based on what I learned from my roommates. When the boys were teens, Mark would head to the ranch near El Dorado each year during deer season so we could stuff the freezer with enough venison to get us through a year of hamburgers and chili. (I’ll share the recipe for my favorite, venison medallions, soon.)
Chili is going to be on the stove tomorrow night, after the kids scored some ground bison during a shopping trip this weekend. Sam won’t eat it. We’ll have to make him a bison patty on the side.
I know. The horror.
Quick Red-Meat Chili
1 large, or two medium, onion, chopped
2 T. chili powder (Penzey’s is best)
1 1/2 lb. of ground beef, bison, or venison
1 can of Ranch Style Beans (Want more beans? Use the big can. Don’t want to cook from a can? Prepare this recipe from Homesick Texan, using 4-6 cups in the chili.)
Saute the onions in enough olive oil to coat the bottom of a deep cast-iron skillet until they are very, very soft. Add the chili powder and saute another 1-2 minutes, until the spices are very fragrant. Add the meat and brown. Drain any excess fat. Stir in beans and heat through until bubbling, then serve.
Variation: For turkey chili, substitute 2 lb. of ground turkey and also add a pint jar of canned tomatoes when you add the beans. The tomatoes give the turkey chili more complex flavor and body.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #234
Peggy: … so that would be the plan for worst case scenario.
Sam: Ok. (pauses) And, what makes it worst case scenario is that it usually doesn’t happen.
Sam’s Peanut-butter lover ice cream
He came up with this combination himself. The recipe is loosely based on Ben and Jerry’s cookbook, published the year he was born and gifted to us by dear friends, Jan and Tracy Davis.
Peanut Butter Cookies n’ Cream
3 cups broken up peanut butter Oreos
2 eggs
3/4 cup sugar
1/3 cup crunchy peanut butter
2 cups cream
1 cup milk
1 tsp. vanilla
Set the cookie bits in the freezer to chill them while you prepare the mix. Beat eggs and add sugar slowly, combining well. Whisk in peanut butter and when well combined add cream, milk, vanilla. Freeze in ice cream freezer according to manufacturer’s direction, adding cookies at the end and blending 1-2 more minutes.