Four Feet More

Last night was our 2nd annual Fall Feast. You may remember last year's Fall Feast, when I frantically tried to cook a turkey to Martha Stweart's specifications and wound up with a nearly black, dried out bird. Actually it wasn't that bad. But it wasn't that good either. Thankfully, this year Jeff cooked the turkey, while the kids and I assisted with the blue corn bread stuffing and sweet potato pie. We also had broccoli and Gruyere gratin, cranberry sauce, and Yukon Gold mashed potatoes (which were heavenly).

To top it all off, Ali joined us for the Fall Feast, and the five of us had a really nice time. Vika and Eamon were both positively giddy when they found out that Ali would be joining us. Vika even commented that "We haven't had dinner with Ali like this in about 5 years!" It has really only been 2 years, but to a kid, I guess that seems like an eternity.

Since the Sweet Potato Pie took a bit longer to cook than we anticipated, the bird was put into the oven late. Which meant that we had about an hour and a half to kill. So, we put our new "Star Trek" blu-ray into the player and the five of us squished onto the couch to watch. Ali hadn't seen it before, and the kids have seen it about 7 times now, so they were quick to educate her on the ways of Star Trek. Whenever Spock did the Vulcan Salute, Vika and Eamon silently raised their hands and did the Vulcan Salute back to the TV. Ali was sandwiched between the two of them, looking at me with a "What the hell is this?" expression on her face. But by the end of the movie, Vix and Eames had her doing the Vulcan Salute too.

It was a fun evening, and the first time we've hung out with Ali alone in about 3 years (she usually brings a friend). Hopefully this will happen more in the future and our relationship with her will gradually be repaired.

This weekend marked a very special anniversary in our household - three years ago, on November 8th, 2005, we met our kids for the first time. I'm not going to post the family video this year, but if you want to check it out, click here.

Instead, I'm going to tell you how we celebrate this occasion in our family. For the last 3 years we have had a "Metcha' Day Dinner," to which we invite family and friends. We always serve Russian food, so our guests are required to be adventurous. Here is the menu:

• Appetizers: Salmon Blini, sardines and crackers, and salmon caviar.
• First course: Borscht with dark Russian bread and butter
• Entree: Golubtsi (Russian cabbage rolls) and Gypsy Potato Paprikash
• Desert: Russian tea cakes and wafer cookies (which the people at the orphanage referred to as "cake.")
  

The beverage selection for adults includes vodka and strong Russian tea, and sparkling juice for the kids (which Eamon still calls "peeva").

Jeff and I enjoyed the food in Russia so much, that this has become one of our most anticipated meals of the year. Vika also loves it since borscht is her favorite food and she could eat a whole plate of sardines in one sitting. It's fun to introduce family and friends to the flavors we experienced while meeting and adopting our kids.

This year's Metcha' Day Dinner was especially successful. Our friends attended as well as my family, and we all had a great time swapping stories and hanging out. Mel, who's a NICU nurse, has some especially crazy delivery-room stories, which she thoughtfully decided to share after dinner was over. Vika and Eamon also had a great time playing with Chad (Mel's son) and stayed up until 11 pm, running around, laughing and dressing Chadly up as a "rock star."

Sadly, none of Jeff's family chose to attend. I'm still a bit annoyed and hurt by their continued disregard of our family. I don't understand why they make no effort to be a part of our lives or get to know Vika and Eamon. But in the end, I have to remind myself that it is their loss - and really, no one missed them much anyway.

It's funny how the idea of family shifts over time. Sitting at around a table laughing with my friends, listening to my family discuss politics at the next table, and watching the kids play with their "cousin" Chad, I felt content and surrounded by love. What more could you ask for when celebrating the anniversary of the best day of your life?

I'm now a "Texas Roadie." It all began nearly a year ago, when Jeff and I went into a Texas Roadhouse Restaurant. We were hungry for barbecue and wanted to try something new. However, upon entering the door, we began to have misgivings. It was so dark and crowded. And, was that country music playing on the sound system? Looking to the left I saw a small, dark room with benches lining either side and tattered peanut shells littering the floor. Huddled on these benches were groups of people holding silver buckets and nibbling on peanuts like squirrels. I'll admit, I'm a bit of a food snob, and this peanut room was the final nail in the coffin. I looked at Jeff, shook my head, and he said, "We're out of here." That was the end of Texas Roadhouse for us. Or so I thought....

This week, we dropped the kids off at Mom's so we could do our taxes (we're getting a refund! YAY!). Midway through, we had to take a break for dinner. Neither of us wanted to cook, and I was craving barbecue again. Something like the pit beef I used to eat at my favorite childhood restaurant, Pinnacle Peak (if you are ever in Tucson, go there). So, Jeff and I hopped into the car, and somehow wound up at the Texas Roadhouse. The smells coming for the place were heavenly, and I decided to try it out again. This time, I kept my gaze averted from the peanut room until we were seated.

From that point on, things just got better. The fresh baked bread and cinnamon butter - delicious! The service - friendly and prompt. The music - still country, but my aversion to that genre is not as strong as it used to be (thank Vika for that one - she digs country). But the biggest delight of the evening was the ribs. Those ribs!!! I'm not a ribs fan usually. Gnawing meat off a bone is not my thing. It's messy and I hate the feeling of flesh stuck between my front teeth. But these ribs were different. The meat fell right off the bone! There was no gnawing involved! They were so tender on the inside and crispy barbecuey on the outside... I was in heaven. Jeff looked at me, laughed and said, "Dang it! You're a Texas Roadie now!" I replied, "I think I might be," and then went back to my ribs.

At one point during the meal, the music got really loud, and I turned to see the wait staff doing a line dance to some song about "living in a hick town." It almost made me rethink my "Roadie" status. But, they seemed to be having a good time, so I was able to return to my baked beans without feeling humiliated for them. (My humiliation for the servers at Hot Dog on a Stick has kept me away from there for years. Why on earth do those poor girls have to wear those stupid uniforms and what are they jumping on to make the lemonade? The person who thought that place up was a sick man, indeed).

I've been won-over. I told Vika about the Texas Roadhouse, and her eyes lit up. She loves ribs (the girl's a bone gnawer), and the country music and line dancing are right up her alley. Maybe I can have her turn on the charm for Jeff so we can go there again. Perhaps tomorrow?

The other morning, Jeff was putting together a delicious breakfast of thick cinnamon crepes with sauteed apples on top. He got the recipe from Saveur Magazine (a great publication for people who enjoy food from different cultures), and it immediately became a household favorite.

Vika is always very concerned that everything be fair and that everyone get the same amount of food (a throwback to her orphanage days, perhaps?). So her asking, "Papa, how many pancakes are you making?" was not that unusual. However, what came next completely surprised us. When Jeff responded that he was making 8 crepes, Vika stood in the kitchen, with her finger to her chin, thinking a moment. Then she looked up at him and said, "There are four people, so that means we each get two pancakes!"

The girl did division. At 5 years of age. We were completely impressed by her mathematical talent. Sure, she can't remember her sight words* worth a damn, but she did division! Not too shabby.

I just had to brag about that a moment. Thanks for humoring me. :)

If you're interested in trying out the crepe recipe, click on the link below. I assure you, you will not be disappointed!

Thick Crepes with Sauteed Apples

* Sight words are words that kindergarteners should know on sight (hence the name). Some examples are: and, who, look, the, here, etc. Many English language learners struggle with this, and Vika is no exception.