Kale and cauliflow-izle turn me into (a harried) Supermom

Blair’s out of town right now, and I’m flying solo. So far, the dog hasn’t gotten a horrifying intestinal bug, like he did during one of Blair’s more recent business trips (Blair was in Hawaii. I was scrubbing really nasty stuff off the walls). But still, any solo-parenting is surprisingly hard — I gotta’ give my props to any single parents out there.

(do I sound hip saying “props?” I just wanted to try it on for size. I’m a fly mamma, dogg. That’s right, I am OFF the HEEZY. I might even work the phrase “fo’ shizzle” into this post somewhere, too. Keep a lookout).

During times of crisis like this, I’m not above throwing cheese puffs and spoonfuls of ice cream at my children and calling it dinner. But last night, I turned to Expat instead, looking for kid-friendly foods that are fast, fast, fast. I opted for garlicky white beans and kale and honey spice roasted cauliflower.

(You might not know this, but considering any kind of roasted cauliflower these days makes me a wee bit brave — or foolish, perhaps. See, the last time I roasted cauliflower, we had an unfortunate incident. It was a Tuesday night, and Blair and I had decided to eat in front of a new-to-us episode of the Sopranos, courtesy of Netflix. I was afraid that our naughty, snarfy dog would jump up and eat the pan of cauliflower off the counter when we weren’t looking, so I turned off the oven, and placed the leftover cauliflower inside. We watched Tony Soprano get his freak on with Bada-Bing dancers, then we put our dishes in the sink and went upstairs to bed…leaving the cauliflower sitting in the oven. This was a Tuesday. My mother-in-law arrived the next day, and we spent a couple of days dining out with her. By Saturday morning, something was clearly very amiss in our kitchen. We weren’t sure what it was — had the dog gotten sick in some remote corner? Was something rotting in our garbage? Did we only smell it when we opened the refrigerator? Perhaps a mouse had died in our walls? Then we remembered: the cauliflower. I gagged and retched when we took it out of the oven, I felt a deep and abiding sense of shame on behalf of my mother-in-law about the kind of wife her son had chosen, and I was quite certain that I would never, ever eat cauliflower again. Thanks to Expat, I was wrong.).

Anyhow, the steps to each are pretty simple. Check out her site for the precise proportions, as I tend to be wildly inexact.

Expat’s Non-Rotting Honey-Spiced Cauliflower:
Mix honey, olive oil, kosher sea salt, a lemon’s worth of juice, cumin (I couldn’t find my cumin, so I put in a dash of curry)…

Update: Expat says that the cumin is important. Do as she says, not as I do

…plus bit o’ pepper, plus zest (not sure what zest actually is? Neither was I. It’s just a fancy way of saying peel) in a bowl.

Pour and rub it into a head of cauliflower, both top and bottom. Put cauliflower in a pan, flower side down, with a touch of water:

Note: I’ve been reading a bunch about cauliflower, and I left on too much of the stem. It apparently would have been even better if I cut out a big chunk o’ the stem.

Roast in pre-heated 400-degree oven for 15 minutes, then turn it over (flower side up), and roast for another 15 minutes until golden brown.

The kale-bean recipe is even easier:
Chop a couple of cloves of garlic. Heat some olive oil, add the garlic, and as much red pepper flakes as you think your kids can tolerate (for me, it was about a shake). Gently heat garlic, but don’t let it get too brown. While it’s cooking, remove stems from kale:

Chop roughly, add to olive oil, and cook until it’s starting to wilt but is still bright green. Remove kale, put it in a bowl, and dump a can o’ white beans into the pan.

Bring to simmer, add the kale, and mix until it’s all evenly heated. Add salt and pepper to taste.

And? While I made these things? I also cooked up some catfish (just a little olive oil and lemon, cooked side-by-side with cauliflower until ever-so-slightly browned). So, in the end, my kids’ plates looked like this:

(the true foodies and locavores among you will give me a hard time about the baby carrots. They’re organic, but hardly local. Apologies).

The question is, did they eat it? These children of mine who are members of the Cleaner Plate Club only under protest?

The answer? FO’ SHIZZLE.

Huzzizle, my friends. The child with words called the beans “delicious” (she ate every bean on her plate, a little less of the kale, but I can tell you I saw some green sneaking in there). She declared the cauliflower “yummy. Really yummy.” And, okay, she dipped them in the ranch dressing I’d set out for carrots, but she also ate every single bite.

The child with far fewer words said only “Mo? Mo’? Mo bean? Mo’ shish? Mo’?” (actually, she sounded surprisingly hip herself, didn’t she?). And on this night — why is this night different from all other nights, asks the Mezinikel? — this child of few words actually ate her food before throwing it on the floor or spitting it out.

I’d be feeling a bit more like Supermom, if only my older child hadn’t been watching TV as I cooked, and my younger child hadn’t been discovered standing on top of the dining room table only when I heard her throw a mug full of orange juice on the floor, breaking it in the process (because that, friends, is how she rolls). Here’s the dining room I found — and believe me, it’s nothing compared to the playroom: