A First Father's Day

Although our little princess has yet to arrive, my husband has already been a wonderful father for the past nine months.  Even though we have not had the opportunity to hold her in our arms, in so many ways, my husband has stepped up to the plate and dominated his new role as a Dad. From that moment on October 17th, when I told him I was pregnant, he has done nothing but care and provide for the two of us; both on our good days and on our bad days.

He has watched as his wife has morphed into this entirely different person (two people to be exact!), he has listened to my irrational fears and dealt with a roller coaster of emotions. He has given up his clothes and has accepted that I have claimed some of his favorites as my own, and has told me over and over again that I look amazing, even though I actually look more like a whale than a woman. From day one, he has attended numerous doctors appointments (in three different states!), read through multiple baby books, played the baby name game for weeks on end, come to accept the color pink (even on Steelers and Penguins clothes) and to date has participated in 14+ hours of baby classes.

He has never once complained about our change in menu or the lack of wine at dinner. He has dealt with my aches and pains, provided numerous foot massages and comforted me when I realized that I could no longer run. He has made at least seven round trips to USA Baby, given up multiple Saturdays to pick out cribs and rocking chairs and has helped to assemble an endless number of baby items. I watched his face light up as he felt our little girl kick for the very first time and the million times since then.

He held my hair back as I embarrassingly puked over the side of a boat in front of some 30 strangers and his entire immediate family on a snorkeling trip in Hawaii last January. He convinced his friends to change the location of their boys weekend so that he wouldn't be too far away from me and then drove back early Sunday morning to check on me when I wasn't feeling well. He consoled me in the lobby of his office building as I fell apart after one particularly awful doctor's appointment. He was then my rock and comfort for the next four days, casting aside his own uncertainty, as we restlessly waited for an ultrasound that would confirm or dissipate our worst fears. He promised me over and over again that all would be ok and held my hand until the doctor reassured us that our baby was perfectly healthy.

He has dealt with me waking him up numerous times during the night because I cannot seem to find a comfortable sleeping position, nor stay asleep for very long. In the last week, he has assuaged my anxiety and reassured me that she will come, eventually, and that I will not be pregnant forever. I know he will be my strength and sanity during labor and delivery and he is the only person in the entire world I want by my side during that time.

Although he has not had the opportunity to change any dirty diapers yet, deal with 3 a.m. feedings, or endlessly play peek-a-boo, he has already become an amazing father. So on Sunday, I wanted to try and express my appreciation for all that he has done and dealt with over the last nine months and everything I know he will do in the years to come. So Sunday had to include a gift that every Dad needs: a Weber grill; and a meal that every Dad wants: steaks, potato salad, grilled corn and Blackberry Buttermilk Cake.

After surprising him with his new grill, he was put in charge of the steaks while I worked on the Blackberry cake.

I found the recipe for this cake in Bon Appetit's latest magazine which also happens to be their grilling edition (perfect for Adam's new Father's Day gift!). I started off by preparing a springform pan by lining it with parchment paper that I cut into a circle and greasing and flouring it. I've used this parchment paper technique in the past with other cakes, and it always works well. Afterwards, I lined the bottom of the pan with fresh blackberries and sprinkled them with a layer of sugar.

In a separate bowl, I sifted together 2 1/2 cups of flour, 1/2 teaspoons of baking powder, 3/4 teaspoon of salt, and 1/2 teaspoon of baking soda.

In another bowl, I beat together 3/4 cup of room temperature butter and 1 3/4 cups of sugar. I continued to beat these items together until the mixture became a pale yellow color. I then incorporated 3 eggs, 2 teaspoons of vanilla and the zest of one orange.

After all of these ingredients had been fully mixed together, I alternately added in my flour mixture and 1 cup of buttermilk.

I then poured my batter over the blackberries and cooked the cake for an hour and twenty-five minutes in a 350 degree oven.

Once the cake had completely cooled, I removed it from the pan and dusted it with powdered sugar.

Meanwhile, Adam had been grilling up a storm with the steaks and the corn. I quickly prepared a light potato salad with a dijon and rosemary sauce. We then celebrated both our dads and all the other great dads and dads-to-be out there.

Now we are just waiting for our little princess to arrive. Happy Father's day to all the dads out there. And Adam, I cannot wait to see you with our baby girl. One day to go; I hope!

Super Stitions, Super Meal, Super Bowl

I have a somewhat superstitious husband. If one of his teams loses while he's wearing a particular shirt, he won't wear it again for the rest of the season (sorry "baby blue Malkin", so long "6th Seed"). If a game's unfolding poorly, he'll quickly switch seats, and trust that by doing so, he'll have some direct, karmic influence on the outcome. During Steelers games, he's particularly intense. He nervously clenches, then furiously waves his ratty, and increasingly misshapen Terrible Towel. And, for some bizarre reason, he refuses to wash it until the end of the season. By Week 17, the thing is disgusting ... you seriously have no idea. A season's worth of sweat, sauce and saliva, all stained on a faded yellow rag. I have contemplated sneaking it into the wash before, but always decide it's just not worth it. So last week when I was asking him to submit his request for his Super Bowl meal, he reminded me that two years ago I made pulled pork sandwiches for the Super Bowl and what happened? The Steelers won their sixth ring. So obviously I would be making pulled pork sandwiches again this year to ensure the Steelers their seventh title. My pulled pork was 1-0, and you just don't mess with a winning combination.

So for Super Bowl Sunday, after all food requests had been submitted, this was our menu:

Appetizer (to be served during the 1st quarter): Mushroom and White Cheese stuffed Pierogies
Main Course (to be served at halftime): Pulled Pork Sandwiches and coleslaw
Dessert (to be served during the 4th quarter): "Black and Yellow" Ice Cream Sandwiches 


I had never made pierogies before, so I was anticipating a challenge with our appetizer course. I started off by making a basic pierogi dough. I combined 3 1/2 cups of flour, 3 eggs, a little bit of sour cream and about 1/2 a cup of water into a large bowl. After stirring the ingredients together, the dough was still dry and flaky, so I gradually added another 1/2 cup of water until the mixture came together.

Next, I floured the counter top and began to knead the dough. I continued doing so until it was smooth and only slightly sticky (which should take no more than five minutes).

I wrapped the dough in plastic wrap and left it on the counter to rest for about 20 minutes. In the meantime, I got a head start on the pork by preparing a dry rub.

For my rub, I wanted something full-flavored with a touch of heat. I combined brown sugar, Hungarian paprika, cayenne pepper, salt and black pepper in a small bowl.

Next, after trimming off a little bit of the excess fat, I coated the pork with the rub until it was completely covered.

 I then sautéed an onion in the dutch oven before adding in the pork. 

Next, I added about 1/3 cup of Apple Cider vinegar, a little bit of tomato paste, Worcestershire sauce, Dijon mustard and about 1/2 a cup of barbecue sauce. At this point, all the hard work was done and there was nothing left to do but allow time and low heat to work its magic.

Once the meat was cooking away, it was time to whip up the filling for the pierogies. I was not a huge fan of the idea of (the more traditional) potato-filled pierogies (wrapping one starch in another seemed a tad excessive, and a bit filling for a mid-evening appetizer). Since my husband agreed to trying something a little different, I decided to go with a mushroom and cheese filling. I began by cleaning and chopping up a whole package of mushrooms. I sautéed those just until soft.

I then shredded about a cup of aged white cheddar, which we picked up at Milwaukee's MetroMart. 

I combined these two ingredients into a bowl and seasoned them with a little black pepper, salt and onion powder, then set aside until it was time to fill the pierogies. 

I then set off to roll out and shape my pierogies. This would have been the perfect opportunity to break out my new pasta machine that I got for Christmas, but I kept thinking to myself that I could handle this all on my own. Well, I could, and I did, but because of this, my pierogies ended up a little on the large side. Next time, I think I'll try the pasta machine and see if it makes a difference.

To shape the pierogies, I took about a tablespoon or so of dough rolled it into a ball and then rolled it out on a floured surface into the best circle I could with a rolling pin (be sure to cover the finished dough with a towel to avoid drying out). I did this over and over again until all the dough had been used.

It was finally time to fill the pierogies. I did so by taking a spoonful of my mushroom and cheese filling and placing it in the center of the dough. 

I then folded it in half and enclosed the edges by pinching the sides together. I repeated this step until all of the pierogies had been filled and sealed.

When Christina Aguiliera forgot the words to the National Anthem, I took it as my cue to cook the pierogies. To do so, I brought a large pot of water to a boil. Once it was fully boiling, I added in the piergoies and allowed them to cook until they had been floating at the top of the water for about 4 or 5 minutes. 

After all of the pierogies had been removed from the water, I heated up a little bit of olive oil in a sauté pan. I wanted my peirogies to have a little bite, and a nice outer crisp, so I sauteed them for a few minutes, before finally seasoning them with a little bit of black pepper, and serving them to my ever so anxious husband. 

And.... they were a hit! Although Adam said so with a little bit too much of surprise in his voice, I knew they were a success when there were no leftovers. Sautéing them added a wonderful texture and the white cheddar provided a rich flavor that really made the filling stand out. The only thing I need now is to master is how to make them a little bit smaller!

Throughout the course of the day, I had been checking on the pork and stirring it as needed. By the time the Black Eyed Peas were warming up their mics (and dusting off their Light Bright shoulder pads), the pork was juicy, tender and already falling apart. Adam asked me if I needed him to shred the meat, but the job was basically done and with very little effort. As soon as I would pick up a piece of pork with the tongs, the meat would literally fall apart. Perfect!

I toasted the buns, topped them with a heaping serving of pulled pork, plated up the coleslaw that Adam made, and got ready to enjoy a less than glamorous halftime show.

By the 4th quarter, it looked like the Steelers would complete their comeback, and it was time to prepare the final course of our meal. Earlier that morning I had whipped up a batch of my favorite Double Chocolate Chip cookies for the"sandwich" part of the ice cream sandwiches. I loaded them up with a generous amount of vanilla ice cream and then rolled the edges in yellow sugar to complete my fabulous "Black and Yellow" ice cream sandwiches. 

Although the outcome of the game was not what we had hoped for, the meal was even better than expected. The pierogies were a great first time attempt and even impressed a Pittsburgh native; the pulled pork was bursting with flavor and could not have been more tender; and the ice cream sandwiches were the perfect comfort as the game came to a very disappointing, and anticlimactic end. Knowing my superstitious husband though, I can't imagine he will be requesting this meal the next time the Steelers play in the Super Bowl, but I  have no doubt that all three of these courses will be made again. We will just have to wait until next year for that seventh ring.