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Thursday, October 4, 2012

Happy

Scrolling through Netflix at 4AM this morning (not that I wanted to be up, just couldn't sleep), I noticed a film called Happy.  Its description read:

Happy takes viewers on a journey from the swamps of Louisiana to the slums of Kolkata in search of what really makes people happy. Combining real-life stories and scientific interviews, the film explores the secrets behind our most valued emotion.

It sounded fascinating. Then I skipped it so I could catch up on Doc Martin. But the idea of the movie has stayed with me all day. What makes my family happy?

Knowing how hungry my boys are when they get home from school, I made some pretzels this afternoon. As soon as they found out, my little one started a happy dance. Even the older, "cooler" one threw his image aside, jumped into my arms, and plastered me with kisses. He exclaimed, "My day was horrible until I came home!"

So this was the answer to the question I'd been pondering all day. In our house, happiness is a little bit of flour, yeast, and water.

Assistant baker hard at work

To share our happiness with you, here is the recipe I used.

Soft Pretzels (makes 18 pretzels)

  •  1 Tbsp yeast 
  •  1 1/2 c Warm water 
  •  2 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
  •  1 1/4 cups whole wheat flour 
  •  3 Tbsp canola oil 
  •  1 1/2 Tbsp Honey 
  •  6 Tbsp baking soda; in 6 cups water 
  •  pretzel salt; optional 

In a stand mixer, combine yeast, warm water, flours, oil, and honey. Using a dough hook, mix for about 5 minutes until you have a soft, smooth dough.

Place dough in a greased bowl; turn over to grease top. Cover and let rise in a warm place until double (about 1 hour).

When the dough is almost done rising, line two baking trays with parchment paper. Lightly oil/grease the paper. Set trays aside.

When the dough has doubled, punch down dough, turn out onto a floured board,and divide into 18 pieces. Then roll each piece into a smooth rope about 12-18 inches long (depending on how thick you like them), and twist into a pretzel shape. Place pretzels slightly apart on baking sheets. Let rise, uncovered,until puffy (about 25 minutes).

Meanwhile, in a 3-quart stainless steel or enameled pan (not aluminum), bring soda water to a boil; adjust water to keep water boiling gently. With a slotted spatula, lower 1 pretzel at a time into pan. Let simmer for 10 seconds on each side, then lift from water, drain briefly on spatula, and return to baking sheet. Let dry briefly, then sprinkle with coarse salt if desired. Let stand uncovered until all have simmered.

Bake in a preheated 425 degree oven for 12 to 15 minutes or until golden brown. Transfer to racks; serve warm with butter or mustard.

We always seem to run out of pretzels immediately, but if you can't eat all of yours right away, you can cool them completely, wrap airtight, and freeze. To reheat, place frozen pretzel on ungreased baking sheets and bake in a preheated 400 degree oven for about 10 minutes or until hot.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Why I Like Being the Mother of Boys

A few days ago, my younger son announced, "When I grow up, I'm going to have 3 kids. I'm going to have 2 girls and a boy. If I have 2 boys and a girl, I'm screwed."

I don't particularly approve of his word choice, but I had to laugh.

My son has perceived a truth, though. There is something different about boys. I don't mean that boys and girls can't enjoy the same activities. My boys love decorating cookies, and my girl is showing every sign of becoming a daredevil. However, there is something just fundamentally different about the manner in which the boys approach life. This became very clear to me last winter during a ski club meeting. My friend's two daughters were sitting quietly on a bench, efficiently donning their ski equipment, chit chatting about their favorite stuff. Meanwhile, my boys were yelling, "Hey, I have my helmet on -- Hit me in the head!" "Ok, now you hit me in the head!" "Ha, ha! Your turn! Hit me in the head!" "Harder!" The girls just stared at them like they were from Mars.

Even though boys act physically wilder and rougher than girls, there is something that is also sweeter and more tender about them, too. Boys aren't emotionally manipulative. They might be more than happy to fight something out, but they're direct and honest. None of the cattiness or Machiavellian antics that I've watched girls -- even nice girls -- pull.

I think my favorite part of having boys is seeing the way they take care of me. When my older son was about 7, we were playing frisbee, and it kept going into the woods where there were lots of raspberry canes. After seeing me get tangled up in the thorns, my son said, "Oh, no, mom, I'll get it. I don't want you to get scratched!" It was such a sweet gesture from a small boy, but they're protective like that. They're always trying to save me from dangers like brambles and bugs and heights. In their efforts to shield me, I see the budding of men who will watch over their wives and children. It makes me happy and proud.
It's not that I don't love and enjoy my daughter. She's special for different reasons. However, for the record, I just wanted to say that having 2 boys and a girl is not the end of the world. Far from feeling "screwed," I wouldn't have it any other way.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Let It Shine

Last week, my husband and I were driving through a rough neighborhood in Hartford. Looking at boarded up windows and run-down buildings, I couldn't help but think to myself that I'd be depressed living in an area like that.

Then I spotted a young woman standing on a street corner trying to coax cars into a car wash. I don't know how to describe her, but she was radiant. It wasn't just her bright yellow t-shirt. There was something about her whole personality that bounced and bubbled over. She exuded sunshine and joy. Watching her, I couldn't help but be happy, too.

She was a lesson to me. Even when it's dark and bleary, one can still be the light, be the source of joy that changes others.

This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine.
This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine.This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine.Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. 
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