Weekly Digest
Food News, Things We Crave, Resources, Green Your Eats, and Tips, Tools & Techniques. Check out this week’s picks.
(And don’t forget the post below for today’s recipe: Chewy Turkish Apricot Raisin Almond Granola.)
Food News, Things We Crave, Resources, Green Your Eats, and Tips, Tools & Techniques. Check out this week’s picks.
(And don’t forget the post below for today’s recipe: Chewy Turkish Apricot Raisin Almond Granola.)

On Tuesday, Atticus woke up and said, “What snack are you bringing to school for my friends today?” Snack? What snack? Shit! I had totally forgotten that I was on snack duty this week. But obviously, this was a big deal for my little man since these were the first words out of his mouth—even before he asked if he could watch “Go, Diego, Go.” And nothing is more important in the morning than his daily allotment of Diego.
Unfortunately, it was 7. I had to get him to school by 9. The dogs needed to be fed and walked. And I had a conference call at 9:30. I could have done what many parents do and hit the store for juice boxes, pretzels, cookies, or a little bag of why-are-they-never-sweet baby carrots. But I wanted to stand by our ChowMama philosophy and prove that it’s possible make something delicious with whatever is on hand in as much time as it takes to shop for some prepared junk food. And that’s how I landed on these Chewy Turkish Apricot Raisin Granola Bars.

Something strange happened last week: I found myself with an almost completely empty fridge. Not sure how it happened. I actually like food shopping and Fresh Direct makes it pretty easy when I don’t have time to run to the market. But time slipped away and I flaked.
Since it’s a pretty rare occurrence, trying to make dinner with barely anything in the fridge ended up being kind of fun. Like I was on some cooking reality show. I hit the pantry and came up with this healthy salad. The only thing from the fridge was almost (phew) soft celery and the last (I kid you not) carrot. And my strawberry balsamic simple syrup.

You’ve heard us talk about it before—food feeds the body AND mind. You know about the body part. About nutrition and how healthy foods create healthy bodies. But eating is about more than that. It’s also a way to learn about society, practice being open minded, foster a sense of independence, initiate environmental responsibility, and connect with community—something we (and, I bet, many of you) did a lot of this weekend.
It’s so easy for us to fall into talking (and thinking) about food in terms of feeding. What recipes can I make quickly and easily? What new healthy products might be useful shortcuts? How do I get my kid to eat better? Consume vegetables? Stop throwing food? Feeding becomes a practical matter with to-do’s to cross off and short cuts to master. So much so that we forget how mealtime, if approached with love and as a family or community, feeds the soul. Even if all the food ends up on the floor and not a single vegetable is consumed.

I had some extra rhubarb left after I made the Honey Vanilla Ginger Roasted Rhubarb, so I decided to tackle another new way of using rhubarb: in a drink. As I’ve mentioned before, the ChowBaby loves to drink things that make his lips pucker. And this seasonal Strawberry Vanilla Rhubarb Lemonade performed as you’d expect it to.

This weekend, the ChowPapa and I took a stay-cation. On Friday, his parents called and offered to take the ChowBaby for the weekend and we jumped at the opportunity. Between work, work, work, and our energetic 3-year-old, we haven’t had any time to ourselves in I don’t know how long. So we dropped our son off and came back to Brooklyn to spend most of Saturday and Sunday doing two of our favorite things: sleeping and eating. But first, we needed to shop.
I wasn’t keen on the idea because I had forgotten how fun grocery shopping could be. But wandering the greenmarket, we held hands, nibbled samples, sipped lemonade, and took our sweet time. The bonus? I snatched up the one key seasonal ingredient that I’d been wanting to experiment with: rhubarb.
What’s the scoop on rhubarb?