The trick to eating broccoli

I walked into a library this week and saw this book displayed right there on the center of the "librarian's favorites" book shelf. I have been meaning to get my hands on this cookbook for sometime now, so when I saw it I snapped that sucker up and headed to the check out without looking at anything else. Deceptively Delicious has gotten rave reviews enough for me to know this was worth taking home for three weeks, and it didn't take long for me to find a recipe to try out that very same evening.

Broccoli is the arch nemesis in our home. For some reason I have yet to understand Jake won't so much as look at, taste or even have broccoli touching anything on his place mat. I don't get it, considering I shoveled the green stuff into his happy little mouth for a good 10 months of his life. And apart from broccoli Jake has a pretty good palate for veggies: avocados, red peppers, carrots, yams, corn, celery, cucumber, butternut squash, plenty of multi coloured vegetables grace his plate daily. But broccoli? not a chance. He won't have it even if it means sacrificing chocolatey desserts (aka: Bribes).

 
So I made Jessica Seinfeld's recipe for a soft ginger loaf. It includes one cup of broccoli and half a cup of carrots - and my boy wolfed that little slice of heaven down first thing this morning like he'd been waiting for it his whole life. He was asking for "more cake" before noon.

Hiding hated vegetables in delicious food. Is it cruel? I don't really care. It tastes just like the real thing, it's soft and flavorful with all the wintery spices gingerbread should have. It just also happens to have broccoli, and my boy happened to eat it. In abundance. All day.

 
What he doesn't know, is good for him.

The universe and I

I just finished writing a long post with my musings on the past year and my hopes and goals for the new one.  It was pretty airy and long winded, even for me. Re-reading it it didn't make much sense either. It had no real direction, just a lot of melancholy ramblings about the last two months or so, and how things don't always work out how we had planned. A woe-is-me post about how little control we have in the universe and how unfair it is. Luckily for me I hit save instead of publish and went to check my email. In my inbox I found an email from a dear friend who sent me the very first pictures of her very first baby, and all of a sudden it hit me - the universe is doing just fine and I need to stop harassing it with my self pity.

I am keeping the post if only to remind me how pathetic feeling sorry for myself sounds. I'll admit it has it's place, and every once in a while you need that night where you curl up with a bucket of decent ice cream and a box of tissues, but dragging it with you into the new year as a published post on a blog your family is reading - that was taking it a wee bit too far. And if anything gives me a good reality check it's pictures of perfect new born babies and the sweet honest words of their tired and overwhelmed mamas.

Life happens, and as my husband is always telling our son "fall down eight times, get up nine."
Which, my friends, will be the motto that carries me all the way through 2013.

Now I'm going to post a photo that makes me laugh out loud:

Oh yes, the universe is doing just fine.