Your kitchen willl totally reek of veggies after this.

I've posted a version of Divan before, but I wanted to change it up and get some extra veggies in here. Because the adults in this house like some greens. The child? Um, no. So rather than try and trick him into eating something he'll probably refuse to taste anyway, I just made this for us. The last time I made Divan, I used a mixed veggie mix from Trader Joe's rather than straight broccoli and it was pretty awesome. This time, the steam in the bag fresh Brussel Sprouts were on sale, so I went that route. Next time I may try something else...everything I've tried so far tends to work. (But when does veggies and cheese NOT work? I mean, really.) Speaking of, I added more cheese than I normally do, but with all the extra veggies, I went with it. A good call, I think. Chicken Brussels Divan About 16 oz. chicken breast About 16oz halved Brussel sprouts, steamed One small head broccoli, cut in small pieces and steamed 1 can condensed cream of broccoli soup (Campbell's is best)* About 1/4 1% cup milk 1 cup finely shredded cheddar jack cheese 1/4 cup breadcrumbs Curry powder Salt & Pepper *Cream of Chicken or Cream of Mushroom work well, too. Regular or low-sodium. Season the chicken well with salt, pepper, and curry powder. Cook at 375 about 25 minutes. Let cool slightly and cut into bite sized pieces. Mix chicken pieces with brussels, broccoli, soup and milk. Season with a pinch each of S&P. Spread into baking dish, sprinkle evenly with cheese and then breadcrumbs. Bake at 375 for about 20 minutes until cheese is melted and everything is bubbly.

Lemony Quinoa Risotto

Well, hello! I thought we were in need of something a little more upbeat after that last post. No? How about Fall? That seems to cheer everyone up. I'm wearing a sweater today; I wore a Giants sweatshirt while walking the dog this morning (Yes, the ones going to the World Series TONIGHT. Oh, you didn't hear that? You must be a Dodger fan. Sorry about that.) I loooove me some cozy clothes. And cold weather food...the kind that often leads to the need for cozy clothes, unfortunately. Know what else makes me happy? Risotto. And playing with new recipe ideas. Lemony Quinoa Risotto, this time. I started with a mushroom risotto recipe on the back of my quinoa package and jumped off from there, ditching the mushrooms and creme fraiche and instead bumping up the garlic, adding lemon, and tying in the cream cheese I used for my Spinach & Feta Stuffed Chicken (Which I totally made up, recipe also below). And it was Delicious. Capital D. I used 2 tbsp cream cheese, but you'd be fine with 1 tbsp, depending on how creamy you like this sort of thing! Also, I totally forget how annoying stirring risotto can be. Pro*-tip: Grab a chair and hang out with some wine while you do it. *I am not actually a pro. I just like to sit. And drink. Lemony Quinoa Risotto Half an onion, chopped About 1 tbsp minced garlic 1 tbsp Olive Oil 1 cup rinsed quinoa 1/3 cup vermouth (or white wine) 3 cups chicken stock/broth zest of half a lemon 1 tsp lemon juice 1-2 tbsp light cream cheese salt and pepper to taste Saute onion and garlic in OO for a couple minutes, then add quinoa. Move all of that around for a few minutes, til the quinoa starts smelling a little toasty. Over medium high heat, add the vermouth and stir until it’s almost all evaporated. Then add half cup broth, stirring often, until mostly gone. Repeat, half a cup at a time, until the quinoa pops open (each grain will have a halo-type look to it). It’ll take 20-25 minutes or so. It may take more than 3 cups. It depends on how high your heat is, how much you stir, etc. It usually works for me right around there. Once the last of the liquid is evaporated, stir in the lemon zest and juice, then turn heat to low and stir in the cream cheese. Season to taste. Serve hot. For the chicken, I stuffed the breasts with a mix of: 1 package frozen chopped spinach, steamed, then squeezed as dry as possible A bit of minced garlic a couple oz of light feta 2 tbsp light cream cheese 1/2 tsp dried thyme Zest from half a lemon Salt and pepper breadcrumbs Seasoned the chicken with salt and pepper, and rolled it in some bread crumbs. Cooked at 375 for 25 minutes. If you don't have/want breadcrumbs, all good. Hubs just made some last week and I'm trying to use them up.

Plans change.

Last Monday, I was officially 10 weeks pregnant. On Tuesday, we were set to take ultrasound pics, which we'd send out as fun "surprise!" texts to close friends on Wednesday. That was the plan. It was a good one. Instead, on Tuesday afternoon, mid vaginal ultrasound, my doc very matter of factly asked me how far along I was supposed to be. "10 weeks? This-see this? Remember from him? (points to E, who was suddenly being held very closely by my tight-faced husband) This should be full. This is where the heartbeat should be. This sac should be full…see how it's crumpled here at the edge? I'm very sorry." She kept talking. Something about how in this situation she's required to perform the ultrasound again for a colleague, who would confirm that what I thought was a 10 week old fetus was instead a roughly 6 week old non-viable embryo. Instead, on Wednesday, I wasn't texting photos. I was sitting in a hospital gown, poked full of needles and IVs, in a pre-op room with my husband for 5 and a half hours while they waited for an opening in the OB/GYN surgical suite. Instead of texts of giggles and joy, there were texts to make sure E could be picked up from day care and watched, that the dog could be let out, assurances that I wasn't having a total freakout session. But I wasn't freaking out. I went into that appointment on Tuesday completely expecting the doctor to tell me there was no heartbeat. I'd had a knot in my stomach all day. I'd had a bad feeling for weeks. It's not something I can explain. Half of me knew I was doing the pessimistic preparation I do before any big announcement-to better prepare me IF. But the other half. just. knew. A week before, I'd silently cried in the shower. I knew this baby was damaged. I struggle every day to be a good mother to a perfectly healthy, wonderful child. Having a second was terrifying enough. Having a baby with special needs? I just didn't think I could do it. Would I be able to do it? Would I consider not having it? I didn't know. But the guilt of even having those thoughts was paralyzing. It didn't matter. There had been something wrong. My body had done its job. There was no baby.  I'd miscarried. I've been struggling with how to mourn. I'm not religious. My idea of the soul is very real, but it is something that grows with a person, and dies when they are gone. There are no angels in my world. It was still an embryo. There wasn't even a sex yet. I didn't lose a baby. I lost the very real beginnings—the idea, really—of a baby. And that, I'm realizing, is still a very real loss. A very, very wise friend put it more beautifully than I ever could. She's been through this twice, which is twice more than I'd wish on anyone. She also has three wonderful, healthy children. And will have another, if her body is kind to her. And yet through (because of?) her own pain, she held my hand last week. And through our conversations, she made me something beautiful. Here is an excerpt of the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me. Those roots, they may have died, but they are not gone. Just as a plant in the earth, they linger, still reaching into parts of us we didn't even know of. Eventually, like any part of the earth, they break down, begin to decompose. A day finally comes when your lost baby is no longer the first thing on your mind. And still, no matter how many years, how many other babies, the memory of this baby, these roots, is forever in you. A tiny piece in the soil of your life. In memory of a life too short, but no less real. A tiny quilt for a tiny baby, who leaves a big bundle of roots in your life. A photo of the now-framed quilt. I didn't realize today was National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day when I started writing this. (No, I also did not know that was a thing). Kind of amazing how that sort of thing works out, though. Thank you to all of you who have and will share your stories with me. Miscarriage and lost pregnancies are more common than they should be. They're painful—debilitating—sometimes. But they're something—with the help of our loved ones—we get through. My heart is with you all today.