Muffin Top

Tastebud Tuesday: White Bean Chili

In my quest to include more vegetarian items on our weekly menu, I've discovered several recipes... that I hate and would never cook again. This chili, however... Oh, this chili. Quite frankly, it is delightful. Very hearty. Great flavor. I made it for the first time last night and was not feeling optimistic - but be ye not afraid, my friends.

 White Bean Chili
(adapted from the recipe I found here)

Ingredients:

 

• 2 cups dried Great Northern beans
• 6 cups low sodium chicken broth
• 1/2 green bell pepper, chopped
• 2 ribs celery, diced
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 tsp dried oregano
• 1/4 tsp pepper
• 2 tsp cumin
• 2 tsp chili powder (I used just slightly less because I was nervous about adding too much heat for the kids)
• 2 onions, diced (I used a bag of frozen diced onions; my favorite shortcut ever)
• 2 tsp salt
• 1 - 14.5 oz can diced tomatoes (get the fire-roasted kind!! YUM)
• 1-2 Tb masa harina or cornstarch (optional for thickening - I did not need this)

Instructions:

1. Soak beans overnight.
2. Drain beans & put in large chili pot. Add chicken broth & all ingredients through chili powder. Begin heating over high heat.
3. Spray a skillet & heat on low-medium. Add chopped onions to skillet & cook until carmelized (golden brown - not burned!). (This is going to take a good 15-20 minutes. Sorry. It's worth carmelizing them. Promise.)
4. Add carmelized onions to beans. Cover pot & cook on low until beans are completely tender (about 1.5 hours), adding more water or broth as necessary. (I ended up adding about a 1/2 cup additional broth about 30 minutes in, and then a touch more about 60 minutes in, for whatever that's worth).
5. Add salt & tomatoes & simmer at least 20 minutes longer. Just before serving, add cornstarch if necessary (to thicken), & simmer 5 minutes.

Bon appetit!

The flu made me do it.

The flu makes me emotional. Partly because I am a champion pity-party-thrower. Partly because... well I have no idea why. But I do know that I laid in bed for a shameful number of hours watching the 2nd season of Parenthood on Netflix and bawled like a baby.

While watching the aforementioned shameful number of hours of Parenthood, I realized that I am going to sorely regret the lack of documentation I've been making of the life of our sweet little family.

I think I get too caught up in needing to write something really meaningful. Or really witty. Or really wise. And so I don't write. Because who can live up to that?

But what if I could actually get myself to believe it's not about that. What if I write something just average? Would that really not be okay? 

What if I write just to remember?

If I don't write things down, life will get hurried, and I wil forget. I know this about myself. That is why I write the silliest little reminders to myself -- like the huge note I taped to the door that said "TAKE PICTURE" so I wouldn't forget on the kids' first day of preschool this month.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Sidnote - have no fear, Matt finally agreed to get that sweet boy a haircut the next day.)

I mean, one would think that it would be impossible to forget such a thing, but trust me, I'll forget. And I know that no matter how I tell myself I'll never forget what Molly's bed-head looked like that one morning, I'm going to forget.

And as impossible it seems that I could forget the sweetness of finding Owen in his bed, tuckered out in a pile of trucks, wearing the beloved cowboy boots - I know that it's these sweet, small, seemingly insignificant moments that will fade the fastest.

 

So I'm going to write. I'm going to write to remember. And I'm going to write because it will be good enough. It will not be the greatest, the wittiest, or the wisest. But you know what? I'm okay with that. I think I'm finally okay with that.

I'm doing a Bible study written by Beth Moore on the book of Esther. If you've never gone through that study, I cannot recommend it enough. But one of the lessons really broke my heart open more widely than the others (and that's saying a lot).

This particular day in the study really spoke to the perfectionist in me. The me who grew up making good grades & doing well in sports... and then went off to college & beyond, and started living in the real world where there's always someone who runs faster and thinks deeper... and suddenly being "great" at something required being "perfect" at everything.

And, well, that's really hard.

And somewhere along the way, I started believing that if I wasn't the greatest at anything, then I wasn't truly doing anything great at all.

And then I read this from Beth Moore, totally unexpected and perfectly timed, in the middle of the study on Esther:

Christ summons the disillusioned to the paradoxical bliss of spilling life lavishly, sacrificially for the glory of God and the good of man. Those with presence of mind and semblance of health are called to pour out the drink offering of their lives until the cup is overturned and every drop of energy slips - perhaps unnoticed, uncelebrated - into the vast ocean of earthly need. The last imperceptible drop of your well-lived life will sound to the hosts of heaven like a tidal wave hitting the floor of the Grand Canyon.
In effect Christ says, "I'm already great enough for both of us," relieving the willing of their woeful burden. "Just follow Me." 

So, here we go. Whether it's writing or cooking or laundry or whatever. I'm not here to be the greatest. I'm here to follow the Greatest.

Phew, that feels better.

Quote taken from esther by beth moore, p. 173.