Dinner with Dad

3 martini dinner

2009-04-17T09:01:00.001-04:00

Let's just say that 12 ounces of vodka is not the same as a good home cooked meal.

Gnocchi

2009-04-16T09:45:00.002-04:00

Lulu requested gnocchi last night, and so of course I got my butt home as quickly as possible to make it. This time, I used about 1/4 whole wheat flour which Lulu noticed right away ("this is your worst gnocchi yet" she said). That's what a dad gets for trying to be healthy. Since this gnocchi has two eggs and two cups of ricotta cheese, there's plenty of protein (it's not just empty carbs). Next time, I won't make the same mistake.

I feel like I've got my 6-7 successful dishes, but I'd like to add another 1-2. Not sure what to try, however. Any suggestions appreciated.

Our First Thanksgiving

2008-11-30T10:33:00.002-05:00

After 47 years of Thanksgivings at my parents' house, Christine and I finally hosted our own Thanksgiving. Here's a photo of the groundbreaking event. I cooked the turkey, stuffing, made the salad, and bought the wine and bread, while Christine made the mashed potatoes, green beans, vegetarian stuffing, cranberry sauce and salmon. Our guests brought a total of 7 cakes and pies, as well as cookies and flowers (Christine bought another cake just for good measure). We were 9 for dinner, and 4 dogs. We ate and drank well, and then fell into a food coma, and then a sugar coma. Both Simon and Lulu ate turkey and mashed potatoes, but I couldn't convince them to eat stuffing(!). The dogs ate everything. A good time was had by all.

Dinner Co-ops

2008-09-01T07:34:00.002-04:00

So here's a great idea for busy parents with little time to prepare meals: Dinner Co-ops. I just was sent a book called Dinner at Your Door, published by Gibbs Smith, with recipes and tips for starting a neighborhood food co-op. Not only are the recipes intriguing (a little fancy for kids, perhaps -- Chardonnay Chicken with Dried Fruit and Olives -- but delicious sounding and heavy on the casseroles for sharing), but the book comes with tips and advice for starting a food co-op. The idea is simple, and channels our inner hippy: Make one delicious weekly meal for several families, and receive several meals in return. It does require a little organization, but the payoff is worth it. For one day of heavy lifting, you are relieved of cooking for the rest of the week (but not from cleaning the dishes).

As I travel into the 3rd(!) year of dining with dad, sharing the laboring oar with others sounds really attractive. This has been a fairly bad year for cooking for me because I've had to get back hard to work (remember work?), and have had lots of late nights and long travels. But if there were others to share it with the journey might be easier. It might also remind me of why we come together for dinner in the first place: It's not just the food; it's the adventure.

Paperback

2008-07-29T23:01:00.003-04:00

Hey gang. I'm back! Haven't been cooking as much, but still been eating plenty. Simon's at camp (read this) and Lulu's hanging with Mom while Dad takes a financial plunge and tries to gather up his money before we're all in the poor house.

Anyway, check out the new paperback, coming out on August 19. Very lightweight. Fits in a purse or a side pocket. Take it to the beach. Give a dad a buck.

Still Cooking

2007-10-21T16:37:00.000-04:00

For those who've asked whether I'm still cooking, here's some egg rolls I made the other night.

And below, a couple satisfied customers ....

Woog's World

2007-09-17T11:21:00.000-04:00

It's funny now that the Dinner with Dad "project" is completed, I sometimes have to pinch myself to remind myself of the reasons I did it. Sometimes, pinching comes in the form of an email from a reader; other times, it comes in the form of a favorable (or unfavorable) review or feature. Most recently, it came from Dan Woog, in his column in the Westport News. After reading it, I promptly went out and cooked gnocchi and then black bean burritos. Tonight, Christine is making chili. Thanks for the pinch, Dan; and keep them coming.

Pasties, II

2007-08-24T09:27:00.000-04:00

Back in Idaho for a favorite cousin's wedding. (Another story in itself -- How can a girl who was just 16 suddenly be 25 and on the wedding altar? Who permits this to happen so quickly?). Last night Aunt Sue gathered the family by sending out the universal call: Pasties. They came from miles, from as far as Nebraska and Connecticut (thank you very much) to eat these delicious treats at Aunt Sue's table. The pasties did not disappoint. They were piping hot, filled meat, onions, and potatoes, with an absolutely mouth-watering crust. It is the flaky crust that distinguishes Aunt Sue's pasties from pale competitors the world over. This crust, Aunt Sue disclosed, is made with lard -- real, honest to goodness lard -- and there's really no substituting for it. Aunt Sue informed me that she only used shortening in the pasties she first made for me out of concern that I might not eat lard (although, bad Jew that I am, she shouldn't have worried). Normally, she uses lard, which in this world of trans-fats, partially hydrogenated gobble-dy-gook, is the real thing. It's hard to argue with perfection.

But the memory that stays with me, that will always remain with me, is the way the kids race around Aunt Sue's backyard, playing hide and seek and capture the flag, and then run immediately to the picnic table that's been set up for them for dinner. They grab their pasties happily, without fuss, and even Lulu who has informed us on the car ride that she hates pasties (then asks, "What are pasties"?) chows down. The adults eat inside, drink beer, swap old stories, while the kids do exactly what kids should do: laugh, joke, eat, run, tackle each other on the lawn. We are all family here, the different generations coming together at the pasty table.

Tomorrow, in Liz's wedding, she will have 3 of her cousins among her 5 bridesmaids. I wonder how many places in the United States young women still have such a close relationship with their extended family, how many can drop by for pasties. Do we know what we have sacrificed to live as we do? Do we know what we have lost? Watching my kids run around the backyard with their cousins, I begin to understand.

Birthday

2007-07-13T22:55:00.001-04:00

Today was Lulu's birthday, and so of course she got to choose what she wanted for dinner. Her first choice was gnocchi. I left work early to pick up the ricotta I knew I needed, and a few other ingredients. While I was at the supermarket I bought some cherries because last week she ate a bowl, spilling cherry juice all over her shirt. When I got home, I picked two big handfuls of green beans from the garden -- green beans she and I had planted in May. She ran out to greet me, then grabbed a few green beans out of my hands and ate them quickly. Then she ran back inside to play with her best friend Reeve. She had already opened most of her birthday gifts, and paper and tinsel were scattered over the kitchen floor. I went to work preparing the sauce (this time I made a tomato and artichoke sauce that I like from The New Basics cookbook called "Pasta Sauce Raphael). Lulu came back to the kitchen to grab more green beans, then asked if she could crack the eggs for the gnocchi. She did, but then lost interest again. I finished making the sauce, then made the dough for the gnocchi, got the water boiling, and finally got everything on the table.

It was a great success; Lulu had three helpings. Reeve had two. Christine liked the sauce. Cake followed, then more presents, then Lulu got to watch the TV show Christine promised she could watch. Afterwards, I put her and Reeve in one bed, and told them stories about Iceland (green) and Greenland (icy).

Then, almost inevitably, after she got out of bed two or three times, she had a complete melt-down. Told me she hated me. Told her mother she hated her. Said she hated her birthday, and her presents. It was almost comical, except I wasn't laughing.

Adults, I suppose, are the same way when we are over-tired, but usually we know enough to go to bed, or have a drink, or both. I'm going to pour myself a big stiff one now.

Between the Sheets

2007-07-12T10:29:00.001-04:00

Did I mention I have an essay in a new collection called "Over the Hill and Between the Sheets: Sex, Love, and Lust in Middle Age." Not my title, so don't blame me. But lots of good essays, and common themes about parenting, kids, and sex (or the lack thereof). I recommend it.

Post-Mortem

2007-06-27T16:25:00.001-04:00

Simon's gone, and we are a family of three again. The publicity tour for my book appears to be winding down, and I've been at home more. This, of course, has caused (or re-caused) its own set of problems: too much togetherness.

As my wife, Christine, tells me: Many married couples, forced into new circumstances of togetherness, find their love for each does, in fact, know some bounds. Or, put another way: In sickness and in health, for better and for worse, but not for lunch.

I'm curious about your experiences. Anyone had to adopt to the re-emergence of a spouse into their daily routine? If so, was it a net positive, or negative, and any suggestions for survival?

Camp

2007-06-20T13:58:00.000-04:00

My son is going to camp for 5 weeks on Saturday. Last year, when his mother first suggested it, I was totally opposed. I hated camp as a kid, and didn't think Simon would like it either. Plus, the whole idea of sending a 10 year old away from home for 5 weeks seemed unnecessarily cruel - the kind of things parents do for themselves (to buy some peace and quiet), not for the kids.

Surprise, surprise: Simon loved camp. Not only that, but he came back a wiser, more mature, and even nicer kid. He cherished the independence, and the opportunity to do his own thing without his parents bothering him. And what's not to like about playing sports all day? (I liked the fact that there are no TVs or video games).

And so this summer, while I am sad to see him leave, I know that he is really looking forward to it, and so I am looking forward to it with him. Once again, my wife was right.

Yesterday Simon asked if I would make him black bean burritos as his final meal on Friday before he leaves. In just a few minutes I'm going out to buy the beans. Of course I will make burritos. How could I refuse? He'll have to eat enough to last him 35 days.

Father's Day

2007-06-17T07:09:00.001-04:00

What does a father want for Father's Day? No socks, please, or new ties. No shirts or sweaters. No clothes at all, unless you're absolutely sure you know our taste and that we will love what you buy us. Faking appreciation is the last thing we want to do on our day. (Mothers - I know you feel the same about your day).

Here's what we might like: New technology, gadgets of any kind, digital things, sports equipment, music (but, again, make sure you know our taste), sex, food, free time. It's too early in the morning to report on my Father's Day gifts, but I'm hoping to start my day with a long softball game, followed by a relaxing cup of coffee, then a visit to my own father, and then I hope someone is going to cook me dinner, and then, well . . . let's just fade to black here.

Right now, the dogs are playing, the sun is shining, the kids are sleeping, my wife is sleeping, and the mist from last night's rain drifts lazily across the yard. Happy Father's Day!

Today Show

2007-06-16T17:44:00.001-04:00

Click here to see the Today Show segment on Dinner with Dad

http://video.msn.com/v/us/msnbc.htm?g=fe3b7c3f-41a6-4494-a202-3b31ec5eec1e&f=00&fg=

The Dinner Challenge

2007-06-13T09:55:00.001-04:00

I'm heading down to the Whole Foods in Greenwich, CT., for a noon event today in which I will cook black burritos and talk about my book. This is part of the "Dinner Challenge," Random House's marketing extravaganza with Whole Foods. (I'll be at the White Plains Whole Foods on Thursday at noon, and the one in Manhasset on Saturday at noon). I have no idea what to expect. All I know is that I made a big heap of black beans last night, and I'm bringing them with me (Whole Foods says it will provide the rest of the ingredients). I had four burners going in the kitchen last night, because in addition to these beans, I also made gnocchi at Lulu's request. I felt like I was running a small restaurant. I could have used a couple extra burners.

This morning it is raining again, but the house smells like garlic and beans -- a good smell. The kids are at school. Christine has fled somewhere to avoid me. And I've got a vat 'o beans I'm about to spoon out in Greenwich. Nice.

Dinners Without Dad

2007-06-11T09:23:00.000-04:00

Very odd to be riding the train this morning during my morning commute and see my picture staring back at me from the cover of my neighbor's copy of USA Today. Bob Minzesheimer joined me for my commute and dinner about a month ago, and today his feature on the book came out.

Although it's wonderful to be sent on a tour by your publisher, it's great to come home. I missed my kids and wife, and I believe they missed me (at least they said they did). Lulu said she had a "good" week, but not a "great" week because I was not there, and Simon insisted I sleep in his bed (I politely declined).

Lots of work piling up in the office, but after 7 nights of Dinner Without Dad, I plan on making it home. Christine, however, is cooking.

Farmer's Market

2007-06-09T12:58:00.000-04:00

One thing I did not do too much of during the year of dining with dad was shop locally. I mean, I did shop locally in the sense that I went to the local Stop & Shop (or Shaw's, or Balducci's), but I did not care too much about what I purchased as long as it was what I needed. I had read (and admired) Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma, and I recycle things when I can. I even grow my own food in my very own garden. But if the strawberries looked good I bought them, regardless of their origin.

Of course, as anyone who has eaten locally knows (or anyone who has ever eaten an apple picked straight from a tree), food that has just recently come from the soil, during the time of year that food ought to come from the soil, tastes better than food that has been grown 3000 miles away and shipped via planes, trains, and automobiles to the local supermarket. Forget the environmental consequences of this kind of food consumption (although don't forget it too long), we have grown so used to tasteless strawberries, apples, peaches, plums, etc., that we forget locally grown food is better because it's simply better.

This morning, visiting the amazing farmer's market at the Ferry Building on the Embarcadero in San Francisco, the tastes of local (organic) food reminded me that food is not just nourishment, it is pleasure. As I took a bite of the sweetest peach I think I have ever eaten, I wondered why I hadn't paid more attention to the taste of the food I was purchasing, why I had settled on convenience more often than quality.

And another thing: I thought I was allergic to peaches. But I ate this entire peach without the tingly mouth feeling I get when I eat supermarket peaches and I realized (as I suspected) that it is not the peach I am allergic to. It is the chemical residue used to grow and ship supermarket peaches. And if supermarket peaches can make my mouth itchy and tingly, what are they doing to my insides? To my kids' insides?

Thus, another resolution is born: Eat locally. Enjoy!

San Francisco

2007-06-08T00:23:00.000-04:00

In the city of great food. Read tonight at a wonderful bookstore in Danville, Rakestraw books. If you live near it, go there. Tomorrow, at Cody's in Berkeley. Then Towne Center Books in Pleasanton on Saturday. If you're nearby, come to the reading. Free adverbs for everyone.

No meals at home this week, and that's a shame, because I do miss them. But I find as I talk about the book, and the year, that I am reminded again and again of why I quit a job, left my office, and got myself home for dinner. I have not been as regimented this year as last, but I am still cooking and still mostly home, and all I need to do is remember the great (and not so great) moments to know that it was really one of the best years of my life.

Right now, I'm waiting for a hamburger. Wireless technology is a wonderful thing. So are hamburgers.

Touring

2007-06-05T07:06:00.000-04:00

On the road, trying to sell copies of Dinner with Dad. The irony of being away from my family for an extended period of time in order to sell a book about being with my family is not lost on me, believe me. However, it does have its benefits. That's me at a book party with Greg Itzen, President Logan on 24.

And me again, with ICM uber agent (and fellow Amherst alum) Ted Chervin.

And a good time was had by all!

Shish Kebab

2007-06-02T21:44:00.000-04:00

We're having summer weather in Connecticut this week, and tonight we grilled outdoors with a few friends. Christine prepared shish-kebabs, and they were quite good -- even with her vegetarian limitations. She marinated chicken pieces in Caesar salad dressing and accidentally left them in the refrigerator overnight. As a result, the chicken was tender and tasty when we grilled it. Let's also hear it for grilled onions, which are so sweet when charcoaled.

Lulu complained that she didn't like shish-kebab chicken, but then she ate a piece and enjoyed it, and she even ate a piece of steak and enjoyed it, too. I don't know why she resists things before even trying them (okay, maybe I do), but in the presence of friends who are eating (we were with two of her girlfriends) she is willing to try more, and ends up liking it.

We drank wine and beer, ate (somewhat tasteless) watermelon, and watched the sun go down. All in all a pretty good evening until Lulu insisted on watching her fifth or sixth hour of television for the day and we had a domestic battle over it (Lulu v. me; Lulu v. Christine; Christine v. me). Television is a terrible drug, and it's getting worse in our house. I'm tempted to switch off the cable (as we did at one point last year), but then I'd miss the occasional Yankee game with Simon and the few shows I enjoy watching. Christine would suffer worse. I know we should be better with setting limits on television watching, but it's really hard. We'll start a week by saying no more than one hour of screens per day, and that will last for a while, but then it will slip and pretty soon the kids are watching 3-4 of screens. Sometimes, it seems they don't even read anymore (except) comics.

I wonder if others have good solutions for how to get the kids away from the screens without causing WWIII?

Reviews

2007-06-01T09:52:00.001-04:00

A really nice review in today's Wall Street Journal. Please allow me to "kvell" for a moment. I reprint it in its entirety below.

DINNER WITH DAD
By Cameron Stracher(Random House, 242 pages, $22.95)

Dinner with the family? Isn't that one of those things that got left behind with the 1950s? A family sitting down together at the dinner table was once a reliable scene in wholesome movies and Eisenhower-era sitcoms, where Dad knew best and Mom kept the house going and Bub and Sis had problems but nothing that couldn't be fixed in 30 minutes, and nobody had to check into rehab. But over time -- somewhere between Woodstock and "Saturday Night Fever" -- family dinner became a casualty of cultural fashion, part of a rejection of all that was tame, suburban and (supposedly) false.
A few short years later, life came to be lived in ways that made it hard for families to eat together even if they wanted to. Everyone was too busy. Commuting meant leaving the house before the kids were out of bed and coming home so late that, often, they were back in it. Who had time for food shopping and cooking? A few parents (dirty-little- secret time) preferred a restaurant, adult conversation and good wine to macaroni and cheese in the company of sulky kids with wayward table manners.
But something was lost in this social evolution, as Cameron Stracher came to realize in a series of small epiphanies, most of them occurring on his way in and out of New York City, where he worked. He lived in Westport, Conn., and earned a good living, but his long hours had made him a stranger in his own home. "Absence does not make the heart grow fonder," he discovered. "To the contrary, it hardens the heart, makes it shrivel and crack, until there is nothing left but a small efficient pump."
So he vowed to do better. "Dinner With Dad" is a delightful account of what happened when Mr. Stracher made it his goal to get home in time for dinner five times a week over the course of 10 months and to make dinner half the time. He learns how to prepare things that his son, daughter and (vegetarian) wife will eat. How to shop. How to turn dinner into something more than a pit stop where everyone refuels before getting back out on the fast track.
The book (the genesis of which was an essay published in these pages) is a mix of anecdote, social commentary and reflection. Mr. Stracher does not shrink from the tradeoffs that his commitment requires. Among other things, he gives up income to improve his schedule, and he endures sleepless nights wondering where the money will come from. And family interaction does not always yield cozy "Ozzie and Harriet" moments. "As I toss and turn," he writes, "I wonder whether . . . having children makes us impatient, immature, impulsive, and unwise."
In short, there are good days and bad days, good dinners and bad dinners. After an afternoon of shuttling the kids from event to event and finally arriving home, Mr. Stracher's daughter asks: "Daddy, what are we having for dinner?" He notes: "I have traveled from the father who was never home for dinner to the father without whom dinner is unimaginable. In my daughter's mind, I am not only present for dinner, I am an essential ingredient." The payoff for Mr. Stracher is undeniable. The reader will feel the same way about his instructive book.

--Geoffrey Norman

Dinner with Dad -- the tour

2007-05-30T21:56:00.000-04:00

Just came back from a reading at Borders near my home. Believe me, I am very grateful to have published a book, to have a major publishing house behind me, and to have a great editor and two great publicists. But this publishing biz is a b---h! There have to a thousand books every month competing for attention, reviews, features, space in bookstores. A hundred publicists calling newspapers and magazines seeking a few inches for their book. Hundreds of writers on tour trying to get a couple dozen people to come to their reading and maybe buy a book. When you think of the way the movie industry opens its movies, and then compare it with the way the book business tries to sell a fraction of a similar product, it is seriously depressing!

And it's not as if I wouldn't have done Dinner with Dad without writing the book. But now that the book is out, of course I want people to read it. I think the book is honest and heartfelt, and I really do think that if you read it you may change your life. Or at least you may think about changing your life. Or at least you may wonder about how to begin about thinking about changing your life.

Anyway. I hope you'll buy the book. I hope you'll read it. I hope you'll get a friend to read it. If I am reading near you, I hope you'll come to the reading. I hope you'll write a nice review of the book on Amazon. If you tell two friends, and they tell two friends, and they tell two friends etc. -- who knows, maybe we'll start a revolution. We'll call it: Dinner.

Peace.

Memorial Day

2007-05-28T15:01:00.000-04:00

In just a few minutes I will be partaking in that peculiarly American tradition known as the Memorial Day barbecue. This is a day that is ostensibly about remembering the many men and women who have given their lives for our country, but has somehow devolved into barbecuing burgers, drinking beer, and playing wiffle ball. This morning I marched in a parade which had about twelve veterans, and 1000 cub scouts, brownies, Little Leaguers, soccer players, etc. (For a good summary of Memorial Day, read this).

I am not the most patriotic of people, and I disagree with our current President on just about everything, but my heart goes out to all the parents who have children serving in the Armed Forces. It's funny how a person can be anti-war, agnostic, apathetic, and yet when I think about all the things I love about this country I know that despite its flaws I am proud of our democracy. On this day, I'd like to try hard to remember the people who have died for it.

Dangerous Book

2007-05-25T07:17:00.000-04:00

So I succumbed to the hype and purchased The Dangerous Book for Boys. First of all, the title alone would have been enough to sell me. But the idea of a book that included tips for making a fort, a treehouse, a paper airplane, a water bomb, and a go-cart was too appealing to ignore. What I didn't know -- and what others have said -- was whether the retro aspect of the book would be as appealing to my 11 year-old son as it was to me. Who is buying this book, some have wondered, kids or their baby-boomer fathers?

As soon as I unwrapped the book and gave it to Simon, however, I had my answer. He instantly dug into it, and within minutes asked me if he could get a Swiss Army knife. Then he asked me if we could build a treehouse. Then I had to pull away so we could go to a minor league baseball game. When we got back, he returned immediately to the book, and I found him in his bedroom (past his bedtime -- 10pm) making paper airplanes from the instructions in the book. Although it was late, I couldn't resist, and we sat on his bed for another 15 minutes making airplanes together.

This is a boy who is never more than a hands-length from his Nintendo DS. Whose Playstation is like an opium addiction. Yet this weekend we are going out to buy the hardware we need for that treehouse.

I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. A marketing phenomenon that lives up to its hype. Buy it!

Funeral - II

2007-05-24T06:34:00.001-04:00

Heading for a close friend's funeral this morning. Don't feel like posting at all. What can be said when someone you love has gone? Someone who has died far too early? It's not fair, it's not right, and yet it is.

Dana, you were much loved. I still hear your voice.