Under pressure

The title to this post is a little double entendre. 

First, I'm officially overdue.  My due date of 12/14/11 has come and gone without "Bean" sprouting.  I open facebook every morning to a slew of messages from friends around the globe asking if the baby has arrived.  The notes usually are along the lines of "haven't see a post from you in 8 hours - the baby here yet?".  These crack me up as I tend to sleep for about 8 hours daily.  Maybe I need to post at 3a when I heave my bulk out of bed to pee?

I've begun maternity leave.  I decided that I wasn't going to get any sort of medal for sitting around at work wasting time until my due date.  So now I'm at home and have my days free to... well... I'm still figuring out what to do with myself.

Yesterday I went with a girlfriend and her 3-year-old daughter to Watson's, a nearby nursery that had 2 reindeer on site.  Here is Bean with the oh-so-curious Donner.  Blitzen is the brown reindeer in the background.

"Your belly looks like Santa's."

After our visit with the reindeer, my girlfriend fed me a delicious beef stew made with the last of the veggies from her incredibly prolific garden.  My own veggie garden suffered badly from neglect and I spent much of the summer green with envy of her gorgeous vegetables.

The beef stew gave me a hunkering for more.  But with a doctor appointment that went from 2-4 yesterday afternoon and no ingredients in the house for stew, I'd have to wait until today to create that simmered-all-day flavor.

... or would I?

Pressure cooker to the rescue!

I stopped by the grocery store on the way home and picked up stew meat, bagged carrots, baby red potatoes, and bagged green beans.  In my pantry there were home-canned tomatoes, broth, and corn, plus onions, garlic, and all the requisite seasonings.

The great thing about beef stew is that you don't really need a recipe.  It lends itself fabulously to what I call "method cooking".  Once you have the general method of how to make it, you can repeat and create new variations based on what's in your own pantry.

Make sure veggies are bite-sized.

I made this in my pressure cooker but you could easily make it in a slow cooker or on your stovetop.

Here's what went into my beef stew.  Change up the veggies in your own version based on what's available to you.

INGREDIENTS
2 lbs beef stew meat
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic
2 bay leaves
1 tsp dried thyme
1/2 tsp dried rosemary
1 quart home-canned tomatoes
1 pint home-canned corn
1 lb baby carrots, cut in half
1.5 baby red potatoes, cut in quarters
1 pint chicken or beef broth
1 lb green beans, cut into bite-sized pieces
salt & pepper to taste
enough cornstarch to thicken the mix

METHOD
1. Brown meat in the oil.  Add chopped onion, whole garlic cloves, and tomatoes.  Close the pressure cooker, vent according to directions, and cook on the highest pressure for 25 minutes.

2. When time is up, open the pressure cooker (safely!), add the corn, carrots, potatoes, broth, and enough water to cover everything.  Bring to a boil and close the cooker again.  Cook for 10 more minutes under highest pressure.

3. Next, add green beans to the stew and cook without the lid until crisp-tender (approx 4-5 minutes).  The prevents the green beans from getting mushy, over-cooked, and turning grey. 

4. Add salt and pepper to taste, and thicken with cornstarch if desired.  If you've never thickened hot liquid with cornstarch, be sure to stir it into some cold water then add to the hot soup to avoid clumps.

Start to finish, this stew took about an hour in the pressure cooker.  It was the first time I'd used my cooker in stages, meaning that I'd cook, then open, the cook, then open again.  It worked well.  I served the stew with toasted, buttered asiago cheese bread.  It was hearty and perfect for a cold December evening... and tasted like it had been simmering all day.

 Enjoy!

Gluhwein

More years ago than I should admit, I spent Christmas in Europe with friends.  The days leading up to Christmas were in Bavaria, possibly the most Christmas-y place on Earth, and afterwards I continued to stay with friends in the Grenoble area of France.  Not technically the Alpes, but close enough.
My German friends lived in and around Munich and took me to a variety of Christmas markets (Christkindlmarkt), both the enormous one in Munich's famous Marienplatz as well as a small one in a neighboring town called Aichach.

photo: Borderless Adventures

My mother's family has roots in Northern Germany and I suspect that's part of the reason I so dearly loved Christmas in Bavaria.  It's Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker wrapped up in a living, lovely package.  The sights and smells of a Christkindlmarkt bring to mind everything that is wonderful and magical about Christmas: sweet pastries filled with nuts and raisins, nutcrackers ranging from elaborately decorative to utilitarian, pine trees weighed down with hundreds of white lights, hand-painted tin ornaments, cedar wreaths, sweet treats like lebkuchen and pfeffernüsse.  I always crave marzipan stollen this time of year, too.  Here's the stollen I made last year:

And glühwein (pronounced gloo-vine).  Oh, good heavens, don't forget the glühwein!

Glühwein is soul-warming, spiced, sweetened wine served hot.  The name literally means "glow wine", and for good reason.  It's red wine steeped with cloves, cinnamon, and orange slices.  Some recipes call for extra alcohol to be added, such as brandy or amaretto.  "Glow" indeed!

At the Christkindlmarkt in Munich, paper cups of steaming glühwein are sold at booths around the market.  But in Aichach, the glühwein was served in ceramic mugs loaned to the market by the townspeople.  You pay a small deposit for the ceramic mug.  When you had glugged your glühwein, you returned your mug to the stand so that it could be washed and reused.  It keeps the liquid warmer for a longer period, too.  Talk about reducing your environmental impact!

Bavaria in December is cold.  And Ido  mean cold!  A warm mug of glühwein warms both your hands and your belly.  The spiced scent of it tickles your nose as you sip it on a freezing, perhaps snowy, winter night and allows you extra time to browse the market's booths.  It's an ideal beverage après-ski, for cuddling by the fire, for decorating the Christmas tree, or for accompanying a book or movie.  However you enjoy glühwein, do so in the company of loved ones.  And tipple slowly: its effects sneak up on you faster than that creepy coworker who is determined to catch you under the mistletoe.

Photo: Beautifulwomendating.com

Resources:

• Hot wine drinks (note the differences between glühwein and glogg)
• Recipe for glühwein (I haven't made this one yet, but will try it Christmas day).  This blogger also has some festive pics of different markets around Europe.

My suggestions for making glühwein:

• Use whole spices rather than ground.  Ground spices will cloud the liquid. 
• Buy the spices in the bulk section of your supermarket to avoid having to mortgage your home for a few sticks of cinnamon and a whole nutmeg.
• If you want, make a sachet of cheesecloth to contain the spices, or use a tea ball.
• Allow the wine to steep, not boil.
• If you use honey, reduce the amount you add by half because honey is twice as sweet as sugar. 
• Taste the resulting beverage before serving to make sure it's sweet enough for you.

 

I'm dying for some glühwein.  I can't wait to make a pot of it and take it to my parents' house for Christmas Day.  Bean is making us wait for his arrival, however, so there won't be any glühwein for me until he's here.  My doctor told me today that he'll pencil me in for an induction on 12/21, which is a week after my due date and nearly two weeks from now.  I wanted to cry: I want this baby to be born!

 

Enjoy some glühwein for me.

Photo: grabbingthegusto.files.wordpress.com

 

Eggs in winter

I used up the last of our girls' eggs this morning.  We're officially relegated to store-bought eggs until the ladies kick into gear again. 

Last year we got no eggs from December until sometime in April.  This year some of the girls starting molting in August, which was very early for them.  I took it as a signal that our La Nina winter was to be very cold but thus far it's been fairly mild.  I suppose we still have several months to go.

The cochin & Polish cresteds molted first, followed in close succession by the production birds.  As was the case last year, the australorps (black hens) were the last to go.  Also like last year, they look miserable: they're ratty and have broad swathes of bare skin in 40-degree weather.  We've found, too, that our normally friendly birds shy away from being touched when they molt.  It's got to be an uncomfortable process for them.

This is a pic I took of Croquette about this time last year (click link for more pics).  She and Miss Piggy, our other australorp, look like this again now.  Croquette has taken to standing in the middle of the yard, one leg pulled up to conserve heat, looking cranky.  There's nothing we can do for her but offer our sympathy.

When Gene and I first got chickens a few years ago, we made the decision not to force them to lay during the winter.  I'm rethinking that choice now, especially since they eat 50 pounds of feed each month at a cost of about $17.  Freeloaders.  Frankly, it's annoying to buy eggs at the grocery store when you know there's a flock of hens in your own yard.

So how come hens don't lay in the winter?  If you think about it from a biological perspective, it makes perfect sense: it takes warmth and ample food to raise chicks.  Neither of these things is available during the winter months so when the hours of daylight dwindle to less than 12 hours, hens' laying tapers off until it stops completely.  As the hours increase in the spring, the production of eggs follows.

Modern chickens have been bred into two categories: ornamental and production.  Ornamental birds, like our cochin and two Polish, tend to lay less frequently, go broody (i.e. desire to hatch eggs), and "switch off" for a longer period during the winter.  Production birds, as the name implies, lay more eggs per week for more months of the year.  Our nine-hen flock has six production birds: buff orpington, black star, Rhode Island Red, barred Plymouth Rock, and two australorps.  They're the workhorses of the group.  Other common ornamentals include "silkies" and others.  Most of the birds you find in feed stores are production birds, though ornamentals are increasingly more common.

We've definitely seen the difference between our breeds.  Beaker, one of our Polish cresteds, spent much of the summer trying to hatch the other girls' eggs or even sitting in an empty nesting box.  When she finally quit being broody, she laid a half-dozen eggs, then molted.  We'd get another standard cochin in a heartbeat - they're sweet, gentle, curious birds who don't mind being handled by children - but probably won't get any more Polish.  The Polish are noisy, neurotic, and poor layers.  That said, they're easy to catch because they can't see anything!

As an aside, we used to have a bantam cochin, who was also gentle with kids.  Tribble's short legs, feathered feet, and our rainy climate meant that moisture wicked up onto her body all winter.  She hated the rain and we constantly struggled with mite infestations on her.

Getting back to my point about laying cycles: it is possible to get the hens to lay during the winter.  We've decided that the girls will get a much-needed break through December.  They laid well last summer and we believe it's important to give their bodies a rest.  Come the New Year, we're going to put lights in their coop to encourage production.  Twelve to fourteen hours of light are needed to get them to lay.  The sun sets around 4:30 p.m. here in January, so we'll turn on the light in the coop from 3:30 until 7:00 a.m., then allow the natural daylight to take over for the rest of the day.  It's best to have the light in the morning to avoid the coop going dark before the girls have had a chance to get onto the roost.

Have you used supplemental lighting to encourage egg production in your backyard flock?  How were your results?

Thanksgiving 2011

Last April, not long after discovering I was pregnant, Gene and I had a choice to make: when and how would we tell my parents?  My mom was getting ready to leave for a trip to visit family in the mid-west, and was planning to be gone for about 3+ months. 

Our options:

1. Wait until she returned in August to tell my family... and everyone else.
2. Tell my dad and brother but forbid them from telling Mom until her return.
3. Allow my 1st trimester to pass without incident and tell Mom over the phone.
4. Assemble the three of them and tell them prior to Mom's departure, even though I was just a month along.

We chose door #4.  Having never been pregnant, and being nearly 37 years old, this was a tough decision.  What if something, anything, went wrong?  Not only would we deal with the heartbreak of losing a pregnancy, but we'd have to break others' hearts after getting hopes up.  It was a gamble but one that paid off.

Gene and I had fun figuring out how to tell my family about Bean's existence.  My mom had been grousing about a broken travel mug, so we bought one at Starbucks for which you can customize the insert.  Gene typed my due date - which is my mom's birthday - in a small font on the insert.  Inside the mug we put a bib that said something about going to Grandma's house.  It was tricky to assemble the 5 of us before Mom left without raising suspicion.  But we managed somehow.

In mid-April we all sat down and watched Mom open her going-away gift.  She didn't notice the date on the mug & simply thanked us for it.  I knew that she'd open the mug in a few minutes and watched her like a hawk while the family chatted.  Sure enough, about 5 minutes later she popped the lid off and saw the Carter's tag on the bib.  That possibility hadn't occurred to clueless-about-babies me but she got the message loud and clear: we were there not to say good-bye but with Big Important News.

She looked over at me, mouth agape.  Gene, knowing what was happening, watched quietly.  Mom couldn't speak.  She blinked at me and I nodded, then she and I both started to cry. 

My dad and brother were utterly perplexed by the weird female telepathic scene unfolding before them.

I don't remember quite what went down next but I do recall my brother, upon figuring out our message of an expected baby, pushing his chair back and saying, "Whoa.  What just happened here?!?"

Dad broke out the champagne and everyone (except me) had some.  I think that my parents each had 2 or more glasses, to be honest!  They were thrilled, having pretty much given up on ever becoming grandparents because of my advanced years and my brother's lack of interest in committed relationships.

After the initial shock started to wear off, my dad asked me the due date.  I responded "12/15".  He thought for a minute, then issued this proclamation:

"This year, we're going out to dinner for Thanksgiving."

You have to understand that my dad is known for non-sequitors.  Half of the time I wonder if he can't hear, the rest of the time I suspect he's simply not paying attention to the conversation or is so uninterested in it that he randomly changes the subject to whatever appeals to him more.  For him to have declared 7 months ago that we would eat out for Thanksgiving is surprising but not entirely out of character.  I halfway think he'd been looking for a reason to do this anyway.

Dad called Shenanigan's the next day, only to be told that they weren't taking reservations until September.  I bet that those were some of the longest months of my dad's life!

So this year, instead of doing all the typical Thanksgiving meal preparations, my parents, brother, husband and I will be headed to a buffet at a nice restaurant on Tacoma's waterfront.  I plan to eat as much crab and shrimp as possible, especially since many of the traditional Thanksgiving side dishes and desserts are off-limits with my gestational diabetes.

Don't tell anyone, but I've ordered a fresh turkey and it's being delivered today.  I'm going to roast it on Friday, when Gene and I will have a mini-Thanksgiving dinner at home.  Whatever's left on Sunday will get made up into heat-n-eat meals for after Bean gets here.  I'm considering trying my hand at pasties (like Hot Pockets, only homemade).

Have yourselves a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday.  From our family to yours, may you spend the day in the company of loved ones and with a spirit of gratitude for the many blessings we all enjoy.

Five weeks and grateful

Bean's movements have definitely changed in the past week. I can tell that he's bigger, stronger.  So much so, that I've started doing the pregnant lady grimace.  You know the one: a woman in her last trimester will suddenly contort her face like a gargoyle's when an elbow pushes too far into some organ or tests the limits of his confinement with an outstretched limb.  Sometimes it's so unexpected to get a massive kick or a long, slow push outward that I gasp and stop mid-sentence to get through it.

My shower on 11/5 with my mom & girlfriends.  Wow... belly!

As my brother likes to say: "whoa, sh*t just got real!"  The change in movements has really made me realize that yes, there is a little person in there and he's growing impatient with his cramped quarters.

That said, I've acquired the new hobby of watching my tummy bounce and roll in the evenings.  Hey, it's cheap entertainment and we don't have cable!

My due date is now less than 5 weeks away.  Tomorrow is Veterans Day and I'm going to spend it organizing the nursery.  My hope is that by the time Gene comes home from work, the transformation from what used to be our office (and, frankly, junk room) to our son's room will be complete.  Heck, maybe I'll even get some pics to show you.

My pregnancy has made me realize that I've much for which to be thankful.

As much as gestational diabetes sucks, and as much as I desperately miss grains and fruits, it has kept me honest.  No more chocolate chip cookies, cupcakes, or sweets for me.  I eat an apple every few days, and guiltily at that: testing my blood sugar 5x/day and faxing the results to the doctor weekly has a way of keeping one on track.  The silver lining is that I have gained just 15 pounds overall, and not an ounce in the past 3 months.  I fully expect that my baby weight will come home in the car seat, not on my butt. 

The new low carb lifestyle has, however, forced me to explore the wonderful world of fiber supplements.  Nothing makes you feel like an old fart quite like waddling through the grocery store in search of Metamucil.

Friends and relatives at my shower.  Oh, and my poor, swollen cankles.

My nearly 94-year-old grandmother, mom, and me.

How often do you assemble all your friends and loved ones in a single room and spend a day with them?  The answer is probably "rarely".  Good friends threw my shower last weekend.  I was surrounded by people I love and admire from all periods and areas of my life, who support and care for Gene and me in turn.  I was - and continue to be - so grateful for their generosity and the wonderful, thoughtful gifts they bestowed upon Bean.  Our son has more clothes, better books, cozier blankets, and more promises of cuddly date nights than Gene and me put together!

A blanket knitted by my dad's mom for Bean.  Bean is the 1st great-grandbaby on that side, and eagerly awaited.

One of the baby shower hosts, Margaret, had a spectacular dahlia garden last summer.  She was able to save the last of her dahlias for the shower decorations before the frost got them.  The blooms were gorgeous.  Another girlfriend made this incredible cake.  I felt so loved, and grateful for all the people in my life who made the shower a special day I'll remember forever.  And yes, I threw caution to the wind for a single day and said "diabetes be damned, let me eat cake".

Gorgeous cake, beautiful flowers, beloved friends!

I'm thankful for a relatively healthy and easy pregnancy.  Despite being 36 when deciding to try to  get pregnant, I had no challenges getting and staying pregnant (fertility in my family is, shall we say, not an issue).  I experienced virtually no morning sickness, have had swelling only in my cankles and feet, and I feel good overall.  I did have a couple of weeks of significant pain when my pelvis started to separate but that's mostly gone now.

Another thing I'm grateful for, which has surprised me, is a new appreciation for and acceptance of my body.  After a lifetime of struggling with a waistline I'd always hated, I never imagined sitting in my living room with my belly exposed so that I could watch it.  I couldn't have fathomed welcoming people to feel my stomach move (and I hope I haven't dismayed some of my students!).  In the past I envisioned myself in loose, tent-like maternity clothes rather than the form-fitting ones that I've been preferring of late.  It wouldn't have occurred to me to draw attention to my bulging belly rather than try to hide it.  It's been a freeing time to trade  my negative body hangups for a deep awe of what my body is doing: creating and sustaining a new life. 

And finally, I'm grateful that I can count the weeks left in my pregnancy on one hand.  In a few weeks I'll be grateful to lie on my stomach again.

Six weeks and counting

As you can imagine, Gene and I have been busy getting ready for Bean. Last weekend we went to Bellingham, WA, for a "babymoon". We bought a Groupon for a "romance package" at the Chrysalis Inn back in March... as it turns out, I was 1 week pregnant at the time. The special was for a gorgeous corner suite with a massive jetted tub. Each of us took 2 baths in rose-scented water overlooking the lovely harbor. We watched cable, which we don't have at home, lounged around, and took naps. It was glorious.

While in Bellingham we had dinner at the home of friends, Jenn and Matt. They have 2 charming boys and Jenn writes another locavore blog. Jenn, a fantastic cook, prepared butternut squash soup, roasted lamb shanks, and polenta. We contributed a bottle of red from our wine collection and enjoyed a wonderful evening with their family.

Yesterday we were in a childbirth preparation class for 9 hours.  Whew.  I'm glad that item on our to-do list is done.  Next weekend we're going on a tour of the hospital in the morning, and my baby shower is later that afternoon.  On Sunday, I'm doing nothing.  NOTHING!!  We've been so scheduled lately that we both need a break.  Besides, I have a feeling that I'll spend part of Sunday organizing Bean's nursery.

My dad's birthday was just last week.  It was a big one: 64.  Why is that big?  Just listen to this Beatle's song.

In his 65th year my dad will finally become a grandfather.  In fact, he'll be a grandfather in, at most, 6 weeks.  Just look at my tummy!!  Bean is clearly growing well, despite my own weight loss and super low carb diet.

My bump, my bump, my lovely baby bump

My dad loves trains.  I mean, he loves trains.  People who work on real trains call people like my dad "foamers" because of rainfans' tendency to foam at the mouth about train operations. 

My brother and I grew up counting train cars and knowing the correct names of each type of car.  We knew that any time we were in a car ans saw a train, Dad would pull over and we were to watch it.  There was always a model train going around the Christmas tree.  My dad built a 20' diorama in the basement, complete with handmade trees and tufts of grass.  He's in the process of building another one in his bedroom.  His collection of train books and DVDs (imagine a mind-numbingly boring narrated 50-minute video of a train going up a maintain pass) is massive.  Heck, during the summer months Dad sits on his back deck, his scanner tuned to the frequency used by the engineers on the nearby rail lines so that he can listen to their conversations.

Despite Dad's love of trains, he's really really hard to shop for.  Model trains are expensive - all of his locomotives are made of brass and each costs a small fortune - and it's impossible to know if he has a particular book or not.  I don't like knick-knacks, so I prefer not to give them to others.

What to do for his birthday?!?

As it turns out, the father of Gene's coworker is a train fanatic like my dad.  This man has even written a number of books about trains in Southern California.  The best part, though, is that he owns his own locomotive.  Yes, folks, a real, honest-to-god locomotive sits in this man's backyard, and he invited us over to let my dad foam over see it. 

We didn't tell Dad where we were going.  And when we got there, you couldn't see the locomotive from the house or the road.  Ken took us around a corner a BAM!  Dad's jaw dropped.  He'd had no idea why we were at this house tucked way back in a valley.  But there it was: a locomotive he could climb on, touch, and talk shop about with a fellow foamer.  Dad was in heaven!

Dad, Rosemary, Ken Johnson, me with baby bump

This locomotive was built in Davenport, IA, and was used at the Tacoma ASARCO Smelter from 1936-1957.  I grew up practically in the shadow of the smokestack, and can remember the steam whistle signalling the shift changes.  The smokestack was pulled down sometime in the mid-1990s and the smelter's Super Fund site has undergone a complete transformation.  It's no longer an ecological disaster and is in the process of becoming the euphemistically named Point Ruston. 

After Dad had had his fill of the locomotive, Gene and I took him to lunch at the Black Diamond Cafe, which bakes all of its goods in a wood-fired oven.  They're known for spectacular breads, pies, and cakes.  The cookies didn't look too bad, either.  On the drive to lunch, we passed some rail lines and Dad excitedly gave us a history of the Stevens Pass railroad tunnels, the role of railroads in the region, and more.

It was fun to give this gift of time and local history to my dad.  Thanks so much to Ken Johnson for allowing us to visit his locomotive!

As for his Christmas present, we're still working on it and promise that he'll be delivered just in time for the holiday.

Saag

Let me start this post with 3 confessions:

1. I don't know jack - Jitendara? - about Indian food, other than that it's delicious.
2. I don't know diddly about babies.
3. I can't stand low-carb diets.

Ironically, I've made Indian food twice this week, am 7 months pregnant, and am on a low-carb diet due to gestational diabetes.

Life is weird that way.

Friends of mine had a baby boy last month.  They've been incredibly kind and supportive as I've progressed through my own pregnancy, so I offered to take them dinner and a gift for the baby.  They gladly accepted.  Then the wife drops this bomb: she's allergic to tomatoes.

I started going through my mental recipe repertoire & excluding the things that have tomatoes in them.  Crap, that's like everything that I make this time of year.  Chili, pot roast, many soups... all out.  And because I can only have very limited amounts of carbs, no pastas either.

I remembered having seen a Veena's Market saag spice packet in my cupboard.  I bought a few of them last year around Christmas and this was the last package.  I called my friends and asked if they like Indian food and, if so, could she eat spicy food while breastfeeding.  The answer to both questions was a resounding "yes".  Saag it was!

What, exactly, is "saag"?  According to this website:

Saag, or palak, dishes are spiced purees of spinach or other greens common in northern India. They often contain additional ingredients such as potatos, fresh cheese, chicken or chickpeas to make a more substantial dish.

Gene, who doesn't like cooked spinach, loves this dish.  If you're not a cooked spinach fan, try this recipe once before dismissing it.

I wanted to make my saag with chicken.  I started out with cutting up 2 chicken breasts and cooking them in oil.  Then I just put them aside while I made the spinach puree.

Veena's instructions are to saute the spices in oil, then add chopped onions.  You have to be very careful about this because it's shockingly easy to burn the spices and ruin your dish.  Her packets are numbered for you.  (BTW, Veena is a friend of mine but I bought these packets.)

Next, you add the spinach and let it wilt - this takes about a minute.  Don't be shy about how much spinach you're using; it will reduce significantly.

From there, you put the spinach into a blender with some water and puree it.  Return it to the saucepan with the chicken to reheat, salt to your taste, and stir in a dollop of plain yogurt.  Serve the saag over rice or...

... can you guess what this is?  It's not rice.  Nor is it couscous.

This, my friends, is cauliflower!  Run raw cauliflower through a food processor until it looks like couscous.  Out it into a microwave-safe bowl and cook without water until it's done, perhaps 3-4 minutes.  Voila: low-carb rice alternative.

Because I was travelling with this dish, I simply layered the ingredients in a covered Pyrex dish and reheated it once I arrived at my friends' house.

They asked to keep the leftovers. 

As for the gift for their son, a little pair of light green merino wool booties, I completely forgot to take pictures!  The booties fit him perfectly and both parents were appreciative.  They've promised pictures, which I'll post upon receipt.

I still have so much to learn about babies.  The first time I held my friends' new son I experienced a panicked feeling of "ok, now what do I do with this little guy?".  I haven't changed a diaper since the early 1990s, if then.  I just bought some nursing bras and laughed at the sight of my boobs in holsters.  Gene, who has children from his first marriage, looks at my boobs & apologizes "for what's going to happen to them in the next few months".  Yikes.

I'll figure it out.