Stop the Presses!

Stop the presses!

We just made Victory Pancakes for the second time and Sissy ate an entire pancake!

Do you realize that 80% of that pancake was vegetables?

I'm speechless.

--Rational Mama

Idiotically Dedicated

We're at the start of another week-long heat advisory, with heat indices expected around the 110 degree mark.

The fact that we're still not using the (otherwise completely functioning) air-conditioning in the cars means either that we're:

1. Idiots, or
2. Really dedicated.

Or maybe we're idiotically dedicated.

Either way, we're starting to feel like those rotisserie chickens spinning around in their glass-doored ovens at the grocery store: sweaty, crispy and over cooked.

--Rational Mama

Historic Recipe: Full O' Bologney

This is the second recipe we've tried from the awesome Betty Crocker rationing cookbook. It's a meat and potatoes meal, literally. Whereas tradition (at least in this country) is to serve scalloped potatoes with ham, this recipe highlights the use of bologna instead. At eight red ration points per pound bologna was a more thrifty choice than ham, which on our handy dandy chart comes in at 12 red points a pound.

Oh, and apparently it's Irish, according to "O'" and misspelled Italian locale in the title. This makes it international and exotic.

Here's a recap of the recipe...

1. In an 8" x 8" buttered casserole dish, alternately layer 2 cups thinly sliced potatoes and 1 1/2 cups cubed or sliced bologna with a flour mixture (6 TB flour, 1/4 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp pepper).

2. Dot with 3 TB bacon fat (according to the recipe) OR 2 TB butter (what we did).

3. Pour 2 cups milk over contents of casserole dish.

4. Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 1 hour.

Yes, this recipe serves to further reinforce my opinion that most rationing recipes can be reduced to "Random Ingredient in White Sauce."

How did it taste? Well, it tasted like a basic scalloped dish but, I have to admit, it wasn't nearly as satisfying with the bologna as it would have been with the ham. Eowyn, in true form, asked for extra helpings of the potatoes but didn't want to eat more than the obligatory bite of the bologna. Sissy ate the bologna but didn't want to eat more than the obligatory bite of potato. I tell you, it's like Jack Sprat and his wife with those two.

An attempt to get Sissy to admit the dinner wasn't too bad didn't go quite as intended. When asked if the dinner was a thumbs up or down she replied with an even shake of the fist.

TMOTH asked her where, on a scale of 1 to 10, the meal placed.

"On a scale from one to ten," she clarified, "It's a zero."

"Really?" TMOTH questioned. "This is really a zero? I thought zero would be like eating cold dog poop. This is like eating cold dog poop?"

There were chuckles, but Sissy never did fully answer the question.

Maybe we should have her try beans in a white sauce...I wonder how that would rate?

--Rational Mama

Black Saturday

So...I think I bought something on the black market.

Granted, it wasn't as controversial as cigarettes or booze, or even something more traditional to the WWII civilian black market (typically beef, sugar and coffee).

It was granola bars. You know, those kind that have two thin, crunchy granola wafers in each individual wrapping? I bought a box of those.

A few Saturdays ago I found myself at work without my lunch. The best option was a nearby grocery store, so I wandered the aisles looking for something to hit the spot. This small grocery store didn't have a salad bar, nor much of a deli to speak of. Rationing makes impulse purchases a little tricky, since things like prepackaged meals and most chips are not allowed. I looked and looked, with nothing catching my eye or my taste buds.

And then I saw them - their cheerful green box beckoning me hither, saying, "Go ahead, you haven't had a granola bar in over six months...live a little."

I pondered the implications. Technically, this type of prepackaged good was not available during the 1940s and so isn't really allowed during our rationing year. But, in the broad scheme of things they were a pretty basic option (as opposed to, say, highly processed Cheetos). And they sounded really, really good.

So I bought them. I had purchased a contraband item.

I guess I can somewhat rationalize (no pun intended) it by saying I traded some of our coffee rations for the granola bars. Coffee was a highly-desired commodity during WWII rationing and made frequent appearances on the black market.

Friends, we haven't actually bought coffee since the end of January. This means that, had we been purchasing coffee at our normal ration allowance with the idea of stockpiling it, we would have approximately 10 pounds of the stuff with which to make trades.

That's a whole lotta granola bars.

But I promise to not abuse this option, since there were serious implications (jail time, fines) for anyone caught trading on the black market.

Instead, let me know if you have a recipe for the type of granola bars I'm talking about - that way, we can have our snack and be legit.

--Rational Mama

Pesto-bilities

Making pesto is a summer tradition here at Rational Living since, 1) I always seem to plant too much basil, 2) We love pesto, and 3) Pesto freezes well so you can stock-pile a supply for future use.

This past weekend we made two batches of pesto for the freezer. Here’s the recipe we use:

Ingredients
2 packed cups fresh basil leaves
½ to ¾ cup olive oil
¾ cup shredded Parmesan cheese
2 cloves garlic
1 TB chopped walnuts*
Salt and pepper, to taste

*Yes, I know pine nuts are traditional in pesto but they are just too expensive for the copious amount of pesto we make. Plus, the walnuts add a nice supply of Omega-3 fatty acids.

1. Make sure your basil leaves are clean (we use a salad spinner for this).
2. Combine all ingredients in a food processor or blender.
3. Blend until smooth. Taste and adjust seasonings as necessary.

Next we put tablespoonfuls of pesto into the individual compartments of ice cube trays. Typically, one batch of pesto fills one tray. By freezing the pesto into cubes you can then store the cubes in a zipper-style freezer bag and easily grab whatever amount is needed.

So what do we do with the pesto once thawed? Besides the traditional pasta topper, we’ve been known to:

• Add it to marinara sauce for a kick.
• Combine with cream for a different take on Alfredo sauce.
• Use it as a marinade for chicken and fish.
• Mix in with ground beef/buffalo for a moist/flavorful burger.
• Add a few cubes to a traditional potato soup.
• Use on pizza instead of marinara sauce.
• Spread on a sandwich in place of mayonnaise.
• Combine with cream cheese for a tasty cracker and vegetable dip.

Do you have any creative ways that you use pesto?

--Rational Mama

Michelle & Marie

I watched the movie "Julie & Julia" for the first time a few weeks ago. It's a nice little movie based on the true stories of both Julia Child (world famous chef) and Julie Powell (self-absorbed urbanite), the latter of which blogs about her triumphs and trials while making all of the recipes in Mastering the Art of French Cooking in one year (synopsis provided in case you've been living in a cave for the past few years).

In the vaguest of senses, there are some parallels between the plot of that movie and with Rational Living. Yes, we are blogging about our own unique, self-imposed, life-changing food challenges. But there are things that I'm quite happy are different. I'd like to think that I'm at least a little kinder than Julie (especially to my husband) and I'm glad that rationing cookbooks don't include a chicken-liver mousse recipe that's a must.

But there is one thing Julie had that I long for (besides a book deal): she had an intimate, explorative relationship with a historical counterpart (Julia Child) during her project. Granted, it was through books, magazines and old episodes of Julia's cooking shows, but it helped Julie feel like she wasn't going through it alone, that she had a friend who knew exactly what it was like to be exasperated by a burnt beef bourguignon.

I don't have that. We don't have that.

As you know, I love to research. Love, love, love it. And I haven't been able to find the memoirs or published diaries of any home front housewife that mentions rationing beyond an obligatory paragraph. This has been quite a disappointment to me - I've done enough research before and know what it's like to make that goose-pimple connection with an individual across time and space. I've done that - made that connection - with a Civil War soldier, a frontier doctor, and a widowed boarding house operator from the early 20th century.

I wish I had that same connection with a 1940's housewife.

The closest I've come to it is with my great-grandmother, Marie. She is probably the most amazing person I've ever known. She was adventurous, silly and exuded a warmth and love I can still feel today, over six years since she passed away.

Marie was born in rural south-central Kansas in 1902 (or, nineteen-two, as she would say). She was the only girl of six surviving children.

(Marie on the left, c. 1906)

(Marie in the back middle, holding her own with all the boys, c. 1916)

She married her sweetie (the boy from the next farm over) at the age of 16, after his service in WWI was over. She had her ups and her downs. She drove motorcycles, had children, and filled in at oil-field jobs during the Depression when her husband was too sick. She lost children, made friends, volunteered at the local YMCA and so on. And it seems that she never lost her optimism, her love, nor her faith.

In 1943 Marie would have been a 41 year old housewife with multiple young mouths (and a husband) to feed at home. She was a gardener and a canner and I'm sure that was no different during the War. She continued to can produce well into her 80's; it was in her cellar that I first learned the magical allure of rows upon rows of home preserved jars, shiny and promising. When we came to visit she would let us pick out any jar we wanted (I always chose a jar of pickled okra).

Marie was was not to be surpassed as cook and I always suspected that she could whip up anything from scratch with only basic supplies and the knowledge in her head. She could probably creat a white sauce dish with her eyes closed. She could play the organ, crocheted, loved to watch women's wrestling on t.v. and had the largest collection of salt and pepper shakers I've ever seen. She always had a Kleenex tucked in her sleeve next to the dollar bill she'd tried to slip you when your parents weren't looking.

(Stylin' Marie, with her brothers, 1967)

She had the best laugh, and used it often.

Marie was love, unconditional. I consider myself very lucky to have known her for the last 29 years of her life. I wish the scanner was working properly so I could insert my favorite picture - the one of her holding a four month old Eowyn while a two and a half year old Sissy leans in next to her great-great-grandmother.

And as trying at times as this year of rationing may get (or any of life, for that matter), I can't help but think of everything she went through and the fact that she somehow managed to keep her sanity, her smile, and her faith in humanity.

And so on this day, which would have been her 108th birthday, I salute my Julia...Great-grandma Marie.

May I never forget her lessons.

--Rational Mama

HAWT

As I type the current temperature in our fair city is 106 degrees.

The high yesterday was 106 degrees.

Thank you, dear readers, for encouraging us to use the air conditioner.

Very sincerely,
Rational Mama