'No, it's not ok. It's disgusting, so knock it off'!', said her mama.
'But it is ok to toot at the ice-cream table, though.' (As it happened, we were having ice-cream at the dining room table.)
'Stay classy, you nasty bugger. And, no, it's not.'
'But I'm just a nasty cuss! Governor is a nasty bugger!'
Well, I say!
We were sitting on a bench a few days later waiting for Emilia's swim lessons to start, when she nearly caused me to pass out on account of her new-found pride. I was quite annoyed, and I had to decide if we should leave immediately in order to avoid further shame, or just ignore it and act like nothing happened. And yet she just sat there smiling as brightly as she could, saying, 'I stink! I tooted!' Yes, to be sure.
She has also become quite a fan of announcing the state of her gaseous health to all at Whole Foods, 'I stink!' We've talked about it now and I've told her she cannot do such rude things in public, but she fails to understand why on earth not. Apparently she does not find my argument all that compelling.
And so, why am I informing you of the gaseous state of our daughter, you ask? Why, because today's lesson is on cabbage, beans, potatoes, and the like. You know, leprechaun food. Emilia has been operating under the pretence of becoming a leprechaun by morning if she stocks up on lots of cabbage (and other leprechaun foods) at night. When she's feeling dangerous, she'll switch it over to Benjamin Bunny and Peter Rabbit, but since they also eat radishes (which she has decided are unfit for human consumption) this is not as attractive an option. Anyway, she started picking out cabbage from the store a few months ago when I officially banned her from choosing parsnips (they aren't very springy, parsnips). And cabbage, being ridiculously healthy, not to mention a nice cruciferous veg (always high on my list), I've been indulging the girl. And I suppose I must now suffer the consequences.
As luck would have it, Heidi Swanson's new cookbook has the most gorgeous cabbage dish on the cover. (I know what you are thinking, but yes, cabbage can look gorgeous.) And I knew from the first moment I saw this recipe that we would be great friends. Emilia resisted it the first time, but now eats it up on account of the leprechaun factor. In fact, a few nights ago she ate her dinner and then demanded a hat and wellies so she could run around in the backyard in the manner of a leprechaun and 'do what I gotta do.' What she had to do was simply run like a crazed lunatic, yelling 'I'm a leprechaun!' to her little heart's content. 'Twas a marvel to watch.
And so, we've found a winner of a recipe. Alas, I've already made it three times. And alas, as good as it is, I now need to take a bit of a break from it. Because as good as it is, it's rather unseemly having your little three-year-old standing at the swimming pool wearing her little red and white polka dot bikini, and laughing like nobody's business because she 'ripped' (to quote her).
serves 4
1 tablespoons olive oil
4 ounces potatoes, unpeeled, scrubbed, and cut into tiny cubes
Fine-grain sea salt
1 large shallot, thinly sliced
2 cups cooked and cooled white beans
3 cups very finely shredded cabbage
A bit of freshly grated parmesan cheese
Pour the olive oil into a large saute pan or skillet. Heat over medium-high. Add the potatoes and some salt. Stir, cover, and cook for 5 to 8 minutes, until the potatoes are cooked through. Be sure to toss them a few times in the pan so they can cook uniformly and get nicely colored on all sides. Stir in the shallot and the beans. Let the mixture cook in a single layer for a few so the beans can brown. Scrape, toss again, and let the beans brown some more and get crispy-ish. Stir in the cabbage and cook for a few more minutes, until the cabbage loses some of its structure. Serve with parmesan. Recipe from Super Natural Cooking Every Day by Heidi Swanson. Ten Speed Press, 2011.
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