Now for something Completely Different! Pumpkin Pancetta Pasta Recipe

Do you ever have one of those days (usually near the end of the week) when you think, "We don't have any food in the house but I really don't feel like going out?"

That was us today. My husband is going out of town for about a week (leaving tomorrow morning!) and it was important to me that he have a nice healthy send-off dinner. I knew we didn't have any meat or fish that wasn't frozen, so options were limited. I thought about a sweet potato and chickpea curry, but I think Little Habibi ("loved one, male" in Egyptian Arabic) and I will have that while Big Habibi is away. Mommy has vegetarian leanings. :-)

So I thought through the contents of the pantry and fridge and dug out the following:

1 box spaghetti (we buy Smart Taste for extra protein and fiber...on sale 4/$5 last week so we have many boxes)

1 can of pumpkin purée

3 cloves garlic

1 small yellow onion

1 four oz package of diced pancetta I keep on hand for just such an emergency. (If you're without an emergency stash of pancetta, 4-6 slices of smoked bacon would work fine...the only difference is that pancetta is not smoked.)

1-2 cups Chicken stock (Mine was homemade because I had it in the fridge. That is totally not necessary, a box broth is just fine.)

Dried ground sage (fresh would be arguably better)

Salt

(These ingredients are listed in the order I took them out, not the order they were used. Sue me. It's my first shot at this...)

So, big pot of water on the stove. I salt at the beginning because I don't like how the big grains of kosher salt make the water boil over. Yes, I know this takes longer to make the water boil. Once it's boiling, drop your pasta. Time it so it is al dente/firm, so it can finish cooking in the sauce.

On another burner, place a large skillet. DO NOT turn the skillet on yet. Put the pancetta in a cold pan. The pan needs To be cold in order to render the fat from the pancetta/bacon. Once the pancetta is in, put the heat on medium low. While pancetta is rendering, dice onion and garlic (and if using, fresh sage leaves). You're not after crispy bacon, but you want most of the fat out, and cooked through. This didn't take long, though I didn't time it (5 min, maybe). I had no idea this recipe would be a keeper, let alone a "sharer."

Once the pancetta is cooked through, pour off most of the fat that has rendered out. Reserve for another purpose if you like. Leave the pancetta in, and add the onions. Allow them to sweat until translucent. When the onions look to be almost done, add the garlic. If using fresh sage, throw it in now. Do not allow the garlic to brown, just soften. When the garlic is done, deglaze with about one cup of stock. Scrape up the brown bits from the pancetta. Add dried sage after the stock.

Allow to cook for a few minutes until stock is hot. Add 1-1.5 cups of pumpkin purée (1.5 cups is about a 15 oz can) and mix thoroughly. At this point assess the consistency. You can add more stock if you want more liquid or more pumpkin if you want your sauce thicker. Also assess for seasoning at this point and add salt/pepper if needed. Mine was ok, pancetta is pretty salty/peppery, and the stock was also seasoned.

About this time the pasta should be ready. Reserve a cup of pasta water and drain. The pasta should go directly from the strainer to the skillet and be tossed in the sauce. Adding a little of the starchy pasta water will help the sauce stick. We finished it with grated Parmesan cheese.

This was good with spaghetti, but I think a short pasta, or even a cheese ravioli might work better. Ratchet up the amount of sauce and it might even work well in a lasagna.

I served this with quickly sautéed kale and garlic.

Big Habibi loved it. Little Habibi threw some plain spaghetti on the floor with a flourish (we both sang, "I Whip my pasta back and forth" as he did it. Not what Willow Smith had in mind.). I will happily eat the leftovers, all of them, while home this week.

I wish I could take complete credit for taking a risk on this flavor combo, but I'll be honest. Once I saw this stuff and thought, "Pumpkin and pancetta. That sounds like it will be good," I googled it to see if it has been done before. I found two risottos, one by Jamie Oliver (you had me at hello, Jamie!) and one by Nigella Lawson. I didn't read the recipes, but it was nice to confirm that I probably wasn't crazy for putting these items together. I figure anytime those two agree on a flavor combo it must be good. At least this time I am right. And it was done faster than we could be home with takeout.

His name isn't Gracie, and he's not a girl

Before our little man was born, and before I knew he was a he, I had already started singing him a sweet song by one of my favorite singers, Ben Folds. It is called Gracie Girl, and he wrote it for his daughter. Once we found out our little guy was a, well, little guy, I amended the words to Baby G...those who know our last name know it fits pretty well. :-)

I recently dug back in the recesses of my mind looking for new lullabies to sing, and this one came up.

Oh, the tears, as I sang these words, at the same time so innocent and so hurtful:

You can't fool me I saw you when you came out

You got your mama's tastes but you got my mouth

And you will always have a part of me nobody else is ever gonna see Gracie Girl

With your cards to your chest walking' on your toes

What you got in the box? Only Gracie knows

I would never try to make you be anything you didn't really want to be, Gracie Girl

Life flies by in seconds

You're not a baby, Gracie, you're my friend

You'll be a lady soon, but until then...

You've gotta do what I say.

You nodded off in my arms watching TV

I won't move you an inch event though my arm's asleep

One day you're gonna want to go

Hope we taught you everything you need to know, Gracie Girl

And you will always have a part of me

Nobody else is ever gonna see but you and me

My little girl

My Gracie Girl

I think of the gravity of those words, and how true some of them are, and how patently untrue others are. I think of the part of me that only my son knows...the part that mourns the nursing that we never got quite right. The part that cried out in emotional agony as he pushed me away. The part that thought my son didn't love me because I couldn't give him what he needed. The part that thought I deserved his newborn non-love. I think ahead thirteen months or so to my sweet boy resting his head gently on my chest as I rocked him to sleep, obliterating every thought that he didn't love me, that he didn't know the comfort of a mother's heartbeat in his ear.

I think of myself trying to make him someone he isn't, trying to make him push just a little bit harder, hoping I can "fix" him, turn him into someone or something "acceptable." I imagine myself stealing HIS joy in an attempt to find my own joy for him.

I fast forward to a time when he wants to be independent, he wants to go. Unlike so many parents of the Cosby generation, who hope that their kids will leave the nest rather than mooch, we have a different deal. We have no guarantee of Sam ever "going," or more importantly, ever being able to go. We cannot make a promise to him that he will enjoy the independence that Gracie will be lucky enough to Experience. There is a greater likelihood that we cannot teach him everything he needs to know than that we can

This song, that brought me such joy before we met our precious boy, is now one that brings unspeakable pain for him. I want Ben Folds' promises to Gracie to be the same ones I make, and keep, to my son.

"Watch and learn..."

I've even in a bit of a slump lately. Sam seems close to meeting several milestones, but just can't put it all together yet. It is hard to watch him get farther behind even his peers with Down syndrome. I know a big part is that I'm so fixated on his gross motor skills, which are by far his biggest weakness, but is also the most obvious group of milestones in a kid who is Sam's age. People never ask you "can your kid find your nose?" or "does your Child eat broccoli like its ice cream?" or "how long did it take your baby to figure out activating his new Christmas toy?"

They ask you "is he walking?". No.

Standing independently? Nope.

Pulling to stand? Not really.

Crawling? Nyet. (yeah I've had to start learning to say No in other languages)

At 13 months he is starting to belly crawl and is getting closer every day to pushing to sit. It's...a lesson in avoiding mompetition.

This is a lesson I still need to learn. Read on:

A few days ago we went to lunch with friends who have a baby the same age as Sam (a 46er). She is at least on track with milestones, probably advanced in some areas (frankly I've lost track of the track). Her dad saw Sam drinking from a straw cup, and told her, "Watch and learn."

From Sam.

From Sam!

I'm truly not even that jazzed that he's "beating her" in straw cup skills. (Okay maybe just a smidge.). But I'm absolutely thrilled at the notion that, for the moment, he has something concrete to teach his typical peers.

He always will I think. Emotional intelligence is such a powerful thing. And that, I know, Sam has in spades.

A letter to Lloyd and Levitan

I LOVE the TV show Modern Family. Pretty shamelessly, too. The writing is fantastic, the acting is great, I love the high jinx. Most of all, I love that the Modern Family is portrayed as individual core units, but also as an extended family, multigenerational, and best of all, diverse.

The Modern Family of TV fame includes almost all major "diversity" populations. There is a homosexual couple, with an adopted Vietnamese daughter. There is a guy who probably fought in Vietnam with a Colombian trophy wife...and her roly-poly (read: obese) son. His step-sister,mwho is forty, doesn't seem like she could identify a cookie in a line-up, she's so thin. There's a goofy dad, an uber-achieving high school freshman, the list goes on.

But you know what they don't have (yet)? A person with any perceivable disability. Despite the fact that there are however many people in this country with disabilities, Modern Family has bypassed this segment of the population. It is an untapped resource as far as viewership and accompanying advertising dollars. (Also they have no South Asian/Indian/Middle Eastern character, also a surprisingly untapped resource. I thought they had no black character, but then I remembered they have the next door neighbor who was introduced earlier this season in a way that said, "I'll be recurring.")

Anyway...I bring this up because the gay couple is looking to adopt a brother for their little girl. This is Lloyd and Levitan's big chance. What better way to introduce someone with a disability to the Modern Family than by adopting a child with Down syndrome, or some other disability? What a phenomenal way to bring light to people with disabilities and all the great reasons to adopt one!

For that matter, maybe they adopt a kid with an autism spectrum disorder? Children in the US have a 1/133 likelihood of carrying that diagnosis. They could even get twice the bang for the buck and make him Egyptian or something.

Maybe I'm reaching. Maybe L&L don't think they could handle the character with enough tact in a comedy show. I have confidence in their writing...I'd love to see them try.

Merry Christmas and a big Shout-Out

First and foremost, Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Happy (belated) Solstice, and Happy Sunday! I hope everyone enjoyed some great time with their family today! (biological, adopted, or homemade family)

I want to talk a minute about homemade family. This time last year, we were 23 days off the birth of our on, about 18 days off our T21 diagnosis, and on our fourth day adjusting to parenthood at home, outside the NICU. Needless to say, a proper celebration of Christmas was far from our minds. We managed to get a few ornaments thrown on the tree, and made it to church with Sam in Christmas pajamas. We had no family within 500 miles besides each other. Then our dear friends (about to become so much dearer) Michelle and Joe stepped in.

They brought us a fully prepared Christmas dinner of salad, lasagna (Michelle's grandparents were born in Italy so this was no mere baked pasta casserole) and peanut blossom cookies for dessert. They shared Christmas dinner with us and helped us all feel loved, and most of all, normal. At a time when nothing felt normal. I could never express how much I appreciate that act of kindness, at the same time so simple and so extreme.

I have decided that we will honor Michelle and Joe by having lasagna for Christmas dinner every year. And if we ever have the opportunity to return the favor, we certainly will.

525,600 minutes

525,600 minutes

525,000 moments so dear

525,600 minutes

How do you measure a year?

In daylights? In sunsets?

In midnights? In cups of coffee?

In inches? In miles?

In laughter, in strife?

525,600 minutes

How do you measure a year in the life?

Measure in Love...Seasons of Love.

525,600 minutes

525,000 journeys to plan

525,600 minutes

How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried?

It's time now to sing out though the story never ends

Let's celebrate, remember a year in the life...

Remember the Love...Seasons of Love.

525,600 minutes ago, Samuel Alexander entered the world. What a Season of Love it has been.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Sam!

Serendipity

Interesting day we had a few Sundays ago. Upon trying to get to church (which we always run late), we were greeted with a gridlock back-up on I-40. Some guy up ahead got out of his truck, walked up the highway, walked back, and started point to everyone to turn around (on the major highway) to take a detour. I am not positive what the cause was even now, but I think it was a power line fix.

Neither here nor there, because this strange turn of events led us to attend a church that we don't normally go to. It is downtown, in a semi-shady area. We are happy at our on-campus Catholic Center church. But we went to this one today since we missed Mass.

We walked in, and took a seat in the third row from the back. I could tell in the pew right behind us were three tween girls, but didn't see who was sitting in the very back row. All I knew is that she was having a hard time with the new songs for the mass...a trait which I share with her. (They were the same for centuries and now they are being changed. I am having trouble getting on board this new train.) When it came time for the sign of peace, I shook hands with the tweens and then looked up to who sat in the row behind. There was Angel.

We shook hands and said "peace be with you." I then saw Angel's mother, who smiled and waved--it would have been quite a long reach as I was holding Sam and they were two rows behind. But her smile was a hearty and warm one. It was the minestrone of smiles. :-)

When she passed our pew to receive communion, Angel's mom winked at me. It melted my heart and I actually teared up. I was really glad that we went to this unusual church, at the expense even of seeing Father Eric, the former pastor of our usual church who has gone on to work as a pastor and Catholic film producer in LA.

After Mass, we smiled at each other again, and Angel gave a little wave. We were walking to our car, when we heard a loud "Yoo Hoo!!?!?!" from across the street. Here came Angel and her mom, putting in major effort to reach us before we drove off. And how sweet they were!!

Angel's mom, Gladys, walked up and said to me, "I think we have something in common, you and I." She proceeded to introduce herself and then her daughter followed suit. Her beautiful 23 year old daughter, Angel, has Down syndrome. She asked how old Sam was, and then just smiled and said, "you all have such a beautiful life ahead of you!" She went on about how great her life, and especially Angel's life, is. She talked about dance classes, and "girls' night in," and bowling. Angel told us she had a friend named Sam, and told us our Sam was cute. Gladys told us if we ever needed help, or a break, to let us know; that it is sometimes hard but always worth it. Then she and Angel said they hoped to see us again, and have a good week.

Yes. Angel, indeed.