Crispy, baked pork chops

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One of my favorite dinners growing up was pork chops, baked potatoes, with the mandatory vegetable, homemade applesauce and Crescent Rolls. My mother used Shake ‘N Bake on pork chops and to this day, it is really the only way I enjoy pork chops. If not cooked correctly, chops can be dry and tough, but coated and baked quickly at a high temperature locks in the juices and the tenderness.

A food blogger I am not, but it tastes really good!

Once I started reading labels, Shake ‘N Bake was removed from our pantry. So I set about making my own crispy coating for baked meats. I started with this recipe as a base, but tweaked it to our liking.

I make the seasoning in bulk and store it in a Ziplock bag for use on pork, or chicken. I bet it would work on mild white fish, but since my husband is anti-fish, I doubt I’ll ever get the chance to prove it.

Here is the recipe:

  • 4 Cups crushed Corn Flakes (I use the store brand and they are just fine).
  • 4T Paprika
  • 2T Garlic salt
  • 1/2T Onion powder
  • 2t Celery flakes
  • 1t (scant) Ground pepper
  • 1/2t Chili powder

Combine all the ingredients in a bowl and mix thoroughly. Store in tightly sealed plastic bag, or container.

Notes, Panko crumbs are crunchier, but they are also more expensive. I’ve substituted one cup of panko crumbs for one cup of Corn Flakes for a nice compromise.

Crispy Baked Pork Chops

  • 5 bone-in pork chops (you can use boneless, I just prefer the bone-in kind).
  • 1 heaping cup of Crispy Baking mix (recipe above).
  • 1 egg beaten
  • 2T Milk
  • 1T (Approximately) Extra virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 425 degrees (unless you are like me and want a baked potato, so the oven is already on).

Combine egg and milk in one bowl.

Combine baking mix and enough olive oil to make the spices adhere to the flakes. the mix will darken slightly.

Rinse and pat dry the pork chops.

Dip a pork chop in milk and egg mixture until coated.

Dip coated pork chop in coating mix turning to coat.

Place on baking sheet (I cover a jelly roll pan in aluminum foil to speed clean up).

Repeat for remaining chops.

Bake at 425 degrees for 15-18 minutes or until chops are no longer show any signs of pink on the inside.

I serve with a baked potato steamed carrots, green beans and homemade applesauce.

Enjoy!

A Staycation – The Red Jacket Inn and Kahuna Laguna

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Earlier this month, we were blessed with a four day weekend. The kids had Thursday off for Veteran’s Day and Friday was a teacher’s workshop. I’m a list keeper, so there were certainly more than enough tasks to keep us close to home, but I wanted some family time and decided a quick getaway was in order.

The kids LOVE water parks. I looked at the two options in Massachusetts, but then decided to put our money were our mouths were and go local(ish). I booked a Stay and Splash package at the Red Jacket Resort in North Conway, New Hampshire. From beginning to end, I was pleased with the experience.

I looked at Trip Advisor for reviews and then went online to make our reservations. The booking system is fairly straight forward. I picked the Kahuna Laguna + Breakfast package with a garden view room with two double beds. The package included overnight accommodations for four (two adults and two children under 12), water park bracelets for four and breakfast for four.

We didn’t tell the kids where we were going or what we were doing. We just packed a few bags and launched the GPS. When we walked in, I told the woman at the front desk we’d gotten in the truck and this was where the GPS brought us and I was hoping they had a reservation for us. She played right along asking my daughter for our last name etc. The she outlined what our package included like I had no clue what was available. The look on Fish’s face when she heard “water park” was priceless. The only hitch was that I thought the our water park time was Friday morning, we found out upon arrival it was Thursday evening. At first I panicked thinking we’d short changed the kids, but it turns out that three hours is plenty of time to get your fill at Kahuna Laguna

Our room was very nice. Larger than your standard hotel room always a plus with four people. It even had a balcony! The Red Jacket is not a brand new resort, but it is very well maintained and updated. They even upgraded us to a Mountain View room. We quickly changed and headed to the water park. The snack bar wasn’t open, but we were able to order a pizza and drinks from the bar. It was $30 plus tip for a large, one topping, pizza and four non-alcoholic beverages (beer and wine were available). We were delighted that the pizza was better than average.

For those who might be used to Typhoon Lagoon at Disney or the more local Whale’s Tale or Water Country, Kahuna Laguna is small. It features two slides you ride in an inflatable tube and two body slides, a wave pool, a hot tub, basketball hoops, play space for the short and loud crowd and a sprinkler area. Kids have to be at least 42 inches to ride any of the slides. My daughter was tall enough to ride everything. My son is over 42 inches, but under 48 inches, so he was excluded from the body slides. He is not the strongest swimmer, so didn’t seem to mind at all. They provided a life jacket (free of charge) for his safety and comfort.

There are free lockers, an abundance of towels and life guards were ever present (my husband and I commented on how many miles they must walk in one shift). The water is treated, but it is not that overwhelming chlorine smell, it is a salt based system that is easier on the skin.

After three hours, it wasn’t hard to convince the kids it was time to call it a day. We all rinsed off in the showers at the park and headed back to our room. The water park is heated to 82 degrees, and the stroll through the lobby was a little brisk, but not bad at all.

The next morning, there was free coffee, tea and hot chocolate in the first floor lounge. Once we were all showered and dressed, we headed upstairs for a made to order breakfast. The kids enjoyed waffles and pancakes while my husband and I stuck with the traditional bacon and eggs. The eggs were farm fresh (I can tell the difference) and the bacon was thick. All was well with the world.

Me standing next to a PacMan Machine. We packed up and spent some time in the game room, where I was able to scratch my itch for classic PacMan. We spent the rest of the day poking around North Conway, a blog post unto itself.

Rates at the Red Jacket vary by day of the week and time of year. A stay can get pricey, but with a little planning and flexibility, there are bargains to be had. Kahuna Laguna does offer day passes for $20 for swimmers and $10 for observers. We had a great time and would definitely stay at the Red Jacket again, but both my husband and I feel like we’ve “been there, done that” as far as Kahuna Laguna is concerned . The kids on the other hand would go back in a heartbeat. All in all a good time close to home.

Have you been? What was your experience? Have you been to either of the water parks in Massachusetts?

My Infertility Story Part II – Cliché

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This post is part two of a follow up to an earlier post I wrote about at Self Magazine article on how isolating infertility can be. You may also want to read part one.  I was blessed to have a circle of friends who had experienced similar situations. NO ONE should feel alone in the infertility process. Part Threes will be the story of another woman who didn’t have that support.

Clichephoto © 2010 Tom Newby | more info (via: Wylio)We survived round one, and were rewarded with a beautiful, happy healthy daughter. Fast forward two and a half years. I was ready for a second child. My husband was happy with one, but willing to discuss making a sibling. I am an only child. I always wanted a sibling. I wanted my daughter to have someone to gang up on me with. We decided we’d try for a second, but as with the last time, there were limits to how much medical intervention we’d tolerate. In other words, no IUI or IVF for us.

About the same time, my husband managed to convince me that it would be a good idea to pack up everything we own, put it in storage and move in with his mom and her husband. We bought land from them to build a house and make a new life an hour and a half North of my support system. Stress + new doctors + limited privacy does not a pregnancy make.

I was still making frequent trips South for business commitments and to be with friends. During that time, we were actively trying with no success. My cycles felt as though they were random. I opted to switch my care to a practice nearer to our new home. I thought it would be easier to manage the daily ultra sounds without the hour and a half commute. Ultimately, the new doctor did confirm a clinical diagnosis of PCOS. We had a cause, but still no baby.

During this time, the other two women I’d been pregnant with the first time both conceived again. I was happy for them and they were both very gracious about sharing my pain at their news, but inside, I was frustrated and horribly jealous.

I was on Clomid for a total of 9 months without success and I was at the end of my rope. We had just moved into our new house and I was ready for a new beginning. My husband supported my decision to stop infertility treatments. I stopped taking Clomid. I gave up the mini-van in favor of a smaller car and I accepted a several work commitments and a major volunteer commitment.

The doctor wanted to try and get my cycles on track again. I refused birth control pills so he prescribed progesterone. The prescription said take once a day for the first ten days of the month. Since I hadn’t had a period in a almost two months, I thought he meant calendar month (as a way to be able to keep my dates straight). Turns out he meant cycle month. DUH. I was told to take a pregnancy test and when it came back negative to start taking the medication.

My husband left for work early in the morning. So I dragged my butt out of bed and peed on the stick. I hadn’t even turned the light on, but after I washed my hands, I picked up the test and thought I saw two lines in the faint morning light. I turned the light on and looked again. Oh My God, this can’t be real. I ran downstairs and said “Don’t leave!” and then flew back up stairs grabbing my glasses and a magnifying glass (you can’t be too sure about these things you know).

Son of a gun, there WERE two lines. As he walked into the bathroom I said, “I’m pregnant, is that ok?” He hugged me, laughed at me and said “It’s a little late for that isn’t it.” I had become a cliché. I stopped trying and got pregnant. It was hard to let go, but once I really let go, my dysfunctional body, to over.

Later that day, I called the OB practice and asked for a blood test to confirm the results. I was told that blood tests weren’t standard procedure. I explained that I was an infertility patient and that I wanted an HCG count. I wanted to insure that there was just one. It took some persuasion, in the form of my going and sitting in the waiting room until someone talked with me, and offering to pay for the blood test out of pocket if my insurance didn’t cover it (it did), but I finally got confirmation that there was only one fetus. Nine months later, Mim was born and our lives are all the richer for his presence.

Even with the distance, my circle of friends was crucial to my survival during the move, the trying and the subsequent pregnancy. I am confident we wouldn’t have had Mim if they hadn’t been around to cheer me on and pick me up. No one should have to go through infertility alone. Online support groups have grown in popularity since then and even face-to-face groups are being offered by infertility practices. If you are pursuing infertility treatments, please seek out a support network. I could mean faster, results.

My Infertility Story Part I

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This post is a follow up to an earlier post I wrote about at Self Magazine article on how isolating infertility can be.  I was blessed to have a circle of friends who had experienced similar situations. NO ONE should feel alone in the infertility process.

12 Week Ultrasound 4photo © 2009 Marty Bonner | more info (via: Wylio) I knew I wanted kids, plural.  I always told my husband, if there was one, there would be two.  I was open to discussing no children, but I was an only child and I really wanted my own kids to have a sibling.

I’d been on and off the pill since I was 17.  Basically when I had insurance or was in a relationship, I was on the pill.  Even on the pill I could go months without a period. I was young and didn’t think much about it.  On occasion, I discussed my lack of menses with my doctors, but none seemed overly concerned, so neither did I.

Fast forward, I’m married to a wonderful man, we have purchased our own home and are looking to start a family.  Suddenly, my lack of periods was an issue.  We “tried” in earnest for while, but it wasn’t long before I started researching fertility issues. What can I say, I am an impatient control freak. I purchased Taking Charge of Your Fertility and set about educating myself.  I tracked my basel temperatures and there was no discernible pattern.  There was no jump in the graph, the temps were all over the place, seemingly random.

I had friends who were facing similar challenges.  One had suffered an ectopic pregnancy that all but ended her hopes of conceiving. She adopted domestically.  Another had a family history of infertility.  She did some initial testing and knew treatment was a futile course. She adopted from Internationally.  I was so blessed to have their counsel.

I sought out an infertility evaluation.  We lived in Massachusetts and were fortunate that insurance covered all the testing. We ruled out male factor immediately so, the problems were mine (Oh, the self imposed guilt!).  The first specialist I saw was a male with a very heavy accent (I can’t even remember where he was from).  He planned a course of treatment that went almost directly to IVF.  I felt intimidated and pulled back sharply.  I opted for a second opinion and was glad I did.  This doctor was in the same practice, but a different office.  Her excellent reputation manifested itself in a ridiculously long wait for an office visit.  A wait that let me get very clear about what I wanted and how far we were willing to go to get it.  My husband was awesomely supportive throughout this.

When we did finally see her, she had a much calmer manor and measured approach.  She did some blood work and ruled out PCOS (this is relevant later), but still there was no cause for my irregular periods that were making it hard to predict ovulation.  She also ordered a hyserosalpingogram or (HSG).  Here is where having the support of friends who have been through the process is invaluable.  My friend J, told me to take ibuprofen before the test. I got the go ahead and took 800mg about an hour a head of time.  An HSG is NEVER fun, but it really didn’t bother me that much.  J took me to the test and was stunned that I wanted to go out shopping afterwards. “I just wanted to curl up in a ball after mine”.  The HSG revealed no blockages, so, we kept on.

We “practiced” regularly, but apparently not at the right time because I still wasn’t pregnant and I was growing more frustrated by the month. I felt like I was failing.  Failing the most basic task for a woman.  I couldn’t even BLEED right for cripes sakes.  My husband was my rock assuring me that he loved me despite my challenges.  My friends were there to lament the arrival of my period AGAIN. Still, it sucked.

By this time, I was taking Clomid and due to my lack of conception, we progressed on to injections.  At one time, I knew this process cold and could have told you want I was injecting, and the dosage, but in the chaos of the last 10 years, that information has completely evaporated from my brain.

So, I went for my daily ultrasounds, the one’s where they stick their “magic wand” in your nether regions and take a peek and what is going on down there.  It was during these fishing expeditions that a cyst was discovered on my left ovary. They were pretty sure it was the left side that was growing the egg, but the cyst made it hard to determine the size of the ovary which made it hard to determine when it was going to expel its precious cargo.

The ultrasound staff and the nursing staff were just amazing.  I rarely spoke with the doctor.  Word came down from on high that this month was a scratch and we’d use it as a practice month for the injections and we’d try again next month.

For the uninitiated, your partner administers the injection in your abdomen.  It is sub-dermal, so it is more of a pinch than a stab.  Then you and your partner *ahem*, practice, do the deed, bump uglys, you get the point. The injection is supposed to encourage ovulation and once ovulation takes place, you want to have the little swimmers in place to greet the freshly hatched egg.

It is such a process it can take the fun out of intimacy. Bless my husband for doing his part to keep things light.  On the occasion of my first injection, he came to our bed room with one of my lipsticks.   He then proceeded to use it to draw a target on my abdomen. “I don’t want to miss.”

I went in for my a blood test 7 days later, and it turns out his aim was dead on.  Much to everyone’s surprise, I was pregnant.

I’ve read so many great stories about how women told their spouses they were pregnant, mine is very utilitarian.  I picked up the phone and called him at work and blurted out the news. His aim was true.  Ahem, a little too true. The next day the nurse called again. My numbers were so high, they were convinced I was pregnant with twins.

OH MAH GOD!!! Anyone who ventures down the road of infertility treatment thinking they are guaranteed a single, healthy birth is naive, but still when you work so hard to get pregnant, you never think you’ll be the one who conceives two at the same time.

In a show of cosmic sense of humor, the second sac, self-terminated, and by 10 days later, we were back to just one baby.  WHEW!

I was fortunate, my pregnancy was uneventful.  I even traveled to Australia three months pregnant.  The delivery was another story, but that’s not tied to my infertility.

Next up, conceiving a second, or not.

Taking Care of Yourself – Gift to Your Children

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Holding Handsphoto © 2009 Rachel Davies | more info (via: Wylio) I read Megan’s piece and I wanted to hug her mother. There is background here that I am reluctant to detail for privacy reasons, but allow me to say that one gift a parent can give a child, is the parent’s own well being.

The current parenting climate is one of putting the children first and in my opinion, we have carried that to the extreme. I think this child-centric environment develops parents who feel guilty for taking care of themselves and raises children who expect the world to revolve around them and lets face it, it can’t possibly revolve around your child because it revolves around mine. 🙂

Love your children, but do them a great favor and build a life of your own. Go on dates with your spouse, partner or friends, pursue a hobby that no one else in the family has an interest in, make time for activities by yourself. Take care of your health needs. Go to the doctor regularly and especially when you aren’t feeling well.

Our go, go, go lives combined with child-focused parenting styles is going to lead to a generation of parents who don’t know what do with themselves when the kids are gone. Parents who will be dependent on their children physically and emotionally because they haven’t taken care of themselves and have no life to fall back on when the kids spread their wings.

I am not suggesting you leave your toddlers home alone for a weekend while you and your hubby do the Las Vegas strip, but seriously, taking care of your own physical and emotional needs is in and of itself, a gift of love. By taking care of ourselves, we show our children that we are all responsible for own well being and happiness. By taking care of ourselves, we develop healthy habits and a support network. In the long run, we won’t *need* our kids to take care of us or come to our rescue. We’ll have the financial, physical and emotional resources to take care of ourselves.

We all need people and for sure adult children can be considered part of your support network, but they should not BE your support network. It isn’t healthy for either parent or child and it is an unrealistic expectation of the child. Giving them life and raising them was a gift, not a debt that had to be repaid.

Trust me on this, I speak from experience.

Home Sweet Home

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Small Town USAphoto © 2008 Sean | more info (via: Wylio)

I attended writer’s class over the weekend and in the course of a getting-to-know -you conversation, it came up that I was a transplant. My fellow attendee asked me how I like living here. I still surprise myself with the answer to that question, I love it.

I didn’t exactly come here kicking and screaming, but I wasn’t particularly excited either. In the almost 8 years we’ve been living in New Hampshire, I can honestly say I’ve grown to love the place. When we moved, my husband clearly thought this was a forever kind of thing. Me? I wasn’t so sure, but I was willing to give it a try.

After this most recent conversation I got to thinking about why I love it here. It all comes down to one thing. People. We live next door to my mother-in-law and her husband and the rest of my husband’s family is all within a 40 minute radius. They are close enough to help (and to need help), but they all have their own lives too.

Our town has an awesome sense of community. It took me a while get connected, but once my kids got into the schools, I met scads of people who share similar values and are passionate and fun loving. There are thriving service groups such as Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, 4H and even a Lions Club. We have an active seniors group who meet regularly and look out for each other.

We don’t always all see eye to eye, so our town meetings are lively but typically respectful. All is forgiven by the following Tuesday as we all gather for the annual DARE Pizza Night. It doesn’t matter if you have kids in the elementary school or not, DARE Pizza Night is a do-not-miss-event. Usually the event raises over $3,000 for the program.

We aren’t the only town with this kind of community in New Hampshire, but from what I can gather, we are in the minority. I’m glad to have found kindred souls, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you to those who live, work and volunteer to make this place such a great place to live.

An Open Letter To Trader Joe’s

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Dear  Trader Joe’s:

I can remember wandering into one of your stores in Concord, California about 8 years ago and being put off by all of the private label items. We were on vacation and I was just looking for brands I recognized. I was dumb. I didn’t get it. It has taken me WAY too long, but I have come around. I have seen the light. Good food, less processing, reasonable prices. Like most people who convert late in life, I have become rather passionate in my preaching. I ❤ TJs!

I started reading labels about 4 years ago, I was looking to exclude a preservative that triggered migraine headaches in my husband. Little did I know what I was getting myself into. Once I started reading labels and realizing that I couldn’t recognize much of what was in my food, I started looking for less processed food. I’ll never be macrobiotic, but still I believe we can cut some of the filler out of our diet. I quickly found it is hard to find foods are less processed. When I found alternatives, they were pricey. Then I found Trader Joe’s. I found the food I was looking for without the junk I wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, Trader Joe’s is not bargain basement, but it is good food at a reasonable price. I found the food I was looking for with ingredients I could identify at a price I was willing to pay. I was happy, sort of. Once you get a taste of what is possible, you want it more frequently. Sadly, the nearest Trader Joe’s is 45 minutes away from me (without traffic).

This brings me to the point of this missive,

NEW HAMPSHIRE DESERVES A TRADER JOE’S.

Ahem. Why should Massachusetts and (soon) Maine have all the fun? New Hampshire is a great state filled with lots of wonderful people many of whom share my concern for eating well for a reasonable cost.PLEASE can we have a Trader Joe’s?

Let’s talk about locations shall we? Nashua can easily drive to Tyngsboro, MA. My ideal location would be Concord, because that is my closest shopping mecca, but if you are going sheerly by the numbers, you could look at Manchester. Oh, I know how about Hooksett as a compromise?

These days, I have my milk delivered by http://www.nhmilk.com and I purchase my meat in bulk, so I only grocery shop every 10 -14 days to feed a family of 4. But, I solemnly promise that if you bring a Trader Joe’s with in a 30 minute drive, I will make it my primary grocery store and I’ll bring all my friends too!

So what do you say? Will you at least think about it?

Thanks!

Lee

(School)Photographs and Memories

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I wrote about my school picture experiences and now it is time to discuss my kids’ school photos. As I mentioned in that post, the job of school photographer is not high on my list of dream jobs. School photographers are asked to capture photos of as many kids as possible, in as little time as possible, for as little money as possible. Not ideal conditions for creativity or high quality. Fortunately, I know this going it so I am not surprised by the results. Still, I’ve come to appreciate school pictures for what they are, a time capsule. They capture my kids where they are at this particular place and time.

I am the opposite of my mother, I DON’T fuss about what the kids wear. Trust me this makes for some interesting attire, but hey, that is an area where I can give them complete control. This policy holds true even on picture day. Fish had her picture day outfit picked out AS we were shopping for back to school clothes. Mim is more of a fly by the seat of his pants kind of kid. I was very curious to see what he would pick and pleasantly surprised with his selection

What I see when I look at her picture, is a girl who is growing up and beginning to explore her place in the world. She’s done a great job maintaing her pierced ears Now, she’s growing her bangs out, and experimenting with hairstyles. She told me about pulling all her hair to one side (oh, the memories) and I think it makes her look more mature. She’s working to find her footing. She can be shy and reluctant to stand up for herself, and in her face, I see that tentativeness (am I doing this right?), but I also see earnestness and her easy smile. Her rigid posture tells me she still wants to please and follow directions (she never sits that straight on her own) but at the same time, I do see a bit of a desire for independence. I suspect this has more do with her clothing selection.

What I see when I look at his picture, is my wiggly little boy. A boy who struggles to follow directions. Sometimes he doesn’t follow because he wants to do his own thing, sometimes (as I’m betting is the case here), he doesn’t follow because he is so excited he doesn’t stop to listen to the words that have been said. I’m sure the photographer told him to sit up straight and put his shoulders back. All he heard was shoulders, the result is the shrugged position. I love the orange striped polo, it is from Land’s End. We bought it on sale ($5 FTW!). He picked it out and while it isn’t my preference, it reflects him well. He is LOUD and vivd.

Probably the worst thing you can tell a kid is to “say cheese”, the resulting smile is usually something like what we have here. My Internet friend Firemom, taught me that asking them to say “boogers and cookies” or some other farcical quip typically generates a giggle and thus a more natural smile. But, I like his smile here because it shows he still has all his baby teeth. He talks a good game (his vocabulary would knock your socks off), but his maturity doesn’t always match his speech.

Once a year, I pick out their clothes and we go to the Target Portrait Studio. There, a photographer with only slightly more time poses them and talks with them and snaps away. I’ve recently started letting each of them bring an additional piece of clothing and an item to pose with. These are the pictures I hang on my walls.

Soon, I will find an independent, professional photographer and invite him or her into our life for an hour or two to capture where we are as individuals and as a family. In the meat time, I’ll look at the pictures I have and appreciate them for what they tell me.

The original version of this post had digital copies of the pictures included.  Then I remembered this post by Heather Sphor. I downloaded the plug-in she suggested, but found (at least on her site), that I was still able to save photos to my hard drive. I’ve posted pictures of my kids here before, but before I go whole hog on this post, I need to consider things a little more. I also need to run some more tests on the plug-in.

You are what you eat

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Fresh Milk in a glass bottle, a chocolate syrup free of HFCS and other delights.I’ve been pondering eating less processed, locally grown food for a long time.  I’ve been reading a little here and there and taking micro steps to purchase food that is made closer to home.  The recent salmonella outbreak at Iowa egg farms really pushed the issue front and center for me.

It started when my husband was diagnosed with migraines and I discovered one of his triggers is Maltodextrin a sugar additive found in numerous dips mix, gravies, and seasoning packets. Once I started reading labels, I was overwhelmed by words I could not pronounce. I really started to wonder whether those were things I wanted to be putting in my body or the bodies of my husband and children. Ever since, I have been making an effort to eliminate processed foods from our diets a little at a time.  I’ve discovered food that is fresh and free of chemical sweeteners simply tastes better.

I stopped buying beef and pork from the grocery store years ago. Now I purchase my steaks and pork chops from a local butcher.  Per pound, it is a little more expensive, but the meat is well trimmed and they package the meat in quantities that will feed my family with only a little left over, so there is little waste.  There is most definitely a taste difference.

I’ve virtually eliminated convenience foods and replaced them with my own incarnations. I started making my own crunchy coating for my pork chops and chicken parts (something akin to Shake N’ Bake ®). Dips are made from greek yogurt and spices.

I have a bread maker and am striving to bake more bread at home. I haven’t made as much progress in this area as I would like and frankly, the bigger problem there is my picky kids. I’ve yet to find a white bread recipe that my son will take to school as a PB&J sandwich.  Once I conquer that, THEN I’ll work towards whole grain breads.

My most recent discovery is locally sourced milk, delivered right to my door in glass bottles.  We got our first delivery last Friday and I finally broke in to the good stuff this morning.  The fresh skim milk tastes like the 1% store bought. Yummmm!

My other recent discovery has been Trader Joe’s I am loving the fact that when I pick up an item to read the ingredients most of the time I recognize everything on the label. I also find that their prices fit within my budget. The downside is that the nearest Trader Joe’s is 45 minutes away (Hey Trader Joe’s Please come to New Hampshire!), so I have to make it stop on other scheduled trips to that area.

Buying locally takes more time and costs more money. I do not have a wide-open schedule or a money tree, but I have found with just a little bit of planning, I can make this work for our family.

Were you to open my cabinets, you would still see foods that contain preservatives and high-fructose corn syrup, it is like a said, baby steps. I’m not sure I’ll be able to eliminate ALL processed foods from our diets. We are like most American families, we lead an active life and time is a premium. I think it is about striking a balance and ideally I’d like the scales to tip in favor of fresh healthy food.

How about you? Do you have any foods that you will only buy from local sources?