If the name isn't a sufficiently adequate description for this meal, the only other thing I could add is: it's amazingly delicious and pretty enough to be served to any kind of company we may ever be graced with. Even my picky eaters ate it!
Creamy Garlic Parmesan Mushroom Spinach Chicken
Ingredients (I used 5 lbs. of chicken breast and doubled the sauce recipe)
4 boneless skinless chicken breast, thinly sliced
2 Tbsp. olive oil
Salt & pepper
8 oz. portobello mushrooms, sliced
Creamy Garlic Parmesan Sauce
1/4 cup butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp. flour
1/2 cup chicken broth
1 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup grated parmesan
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1/4 tsp. pepper
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup spinach, chopped
Directions
In a large skillet add olive oil and cook chicken on medium high heat until browned on each side and chicken is no longer pink in the center. Remove the chicken and set aside on a plate. Add the sliced mushrooms to the pan and cook for a few minutes until tender. Remove and set aside.
For the sauce: add butter to the pan and melt. Add garlic and cook until tender. Whisk in flour until sauce begins to thicken, then whisk in chicken broth, cream, parmesan, garlic powder, salt, and pepper. Add the spinach and let simmer until spinach wilts. Add the cooked mushrooms and stir. Finally, add the chicken and ladle sauce over each piece. Can be served over a bed of pasta, rice, or green veggies.
Last Sunday, July 22, was an incredibly joyful day as our third son made his first confession and First Holy Communion...his second and third sacraments in the Catholic Church. Summer is snowballing on me and I've been forgetting most Saturdays that it is, in fact Saturday (blog day). I cannot let these amazing moments slip by unacknowledged!
By way of an introduction, in case you're new here or don't understand the differences you see, my family and I are Traditional Roman Catholics. That means that we try to practice the Catholic Faith as it was practiced before the Second Vatican Council, beginning in 1962. There's a laundry list of whys for this decision, but essentially God comes first. We believe Vatican II opened the doors for abuses to the Faith, sacrilege, indifferentism, widespread loss of faith, lack of catechesis, and confusion about what it truly is to be Catholic; gorgeous churches full of soul-lifting works of art were razed and rebuilt or remodeled to accommodate modern aesthetics, and it initiated a prevailing spirit of humanism: for man rather than for God.
We attend the Latin (universal language of the Church) Masses of a society of priests which has taken an oath against (religious) modernism. Faithful, along with the priest, face God on the altar, as he is an earthly shepherd leading us to God. Dress is not casual, but your best for God. Additionally, women cover their heads in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament as an act of respect for Our Lord, and acknowledgment of the dignity of woman, so as the tabernacle is veiled. We maintain quiet in church unless it's prayer or song; there is no visiting, handshaking, or clapping inside church, out of reverence for God.
We also believe in the Real Presence: that Our Lord's Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity is truly present in the Blessed Sacrament, hidden under the appearances of bread and wine. Believing the words of Christ, echoed through the Gospels: "Amen, amen I say to you: Except you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you. He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath everlasting life: and I will raise him up on the last day." He is not present symbolically or metaphorically, as many Catholics mistakenly believe today. Because of this belief we receive Our Lord kneeling and on the tongue, as only priests' fingers have been blessed especially for the purpose of touching the Sacred Species.
What greater joy can there be in this life than being physically united to Our Lord?
Liam worked so hard for this day, studying his catechism and waiting! He was incredibly excited. He received his First Communion with his godmother's son, his friend.
Ecce Agnus Dei, ecce qui tollit peccáta mundi.
Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him Who takes away the sins of the world.
Corpus Dómini nostri Jesu Christi custódiat ánimam tuam in vitam ætérnam. Amen.
May the Body of Our Lord Jesus Christ preserve your soul unto life everlasting. Amen.
After Mass the boys were enrolled in the Brown Scapular. All our boys wear the brown scapular once they reach the age of reason, and the scapulars are often mistaken for necklaces. More information about the Brown Scapular can be found here, but essentially it is a sacramental that reminds us that we are Catholics and as such, have a duty to fulfill in living our Faith. Those who are enrolled in the Brown Scapular must fulfill certain conditions to receive the promises made by Our Lady to those who wear it; it is also a constant plea for help to Our Lady in attaining salvation.
Our pastor, Father Dean, was on vacation, so we had a visiting priest, Father Carlisle, this Sunday. Father Carlisle celebrated his first anniversary as priest this year.
My crew
Liam's gift from us: his first rosary.
After Mass there was a parish picnic. This picture unintentionally captured four of the grandparents of the First Communicants, and both boys getting to go first in the food line.
This aging thing is a bit terrifying at times. It seems I blink and whole chunks of time have disappeared. This summer in particular has been speeding by, and I often feel as though I do nothing but rush from one project to the next.
I weighed myself very little this month. I suppose I'll have to step up the accountability as the colder months settle in, but for now this is working. This slower approach to my fitness goals has been therapeutic for my spirit--much less anxiety inducing, but I've had moments of frustration that I'm still not where I'd like to be. It's been a lesson in patience, which is something I need. You may wonder what the point is in posting an update at all because of this plateau I'm on. It's because...well, I'm not done yet! I'm comfortable for now where I'm at, but this journey isn't over.
One major victory I've won this month (and this may have some of you scratching your heads): I've eliminated all sugar in my coffee! It seems like such a little thing, but it was one of the hardest for me to let go of. A year ago I was dumping two heaping tablespoons of the nasty stuff in my cup. I managed to cut that amount in half back in January, but I couldn't give it up entirely. The Monday after my last Scale Saturday post I decided to cut it out cold turkey. It's amazing how much better I feel not having a shot of sugar right away in the morning, and it helps keep the sugar cravings at bay.
One thing I've become addicted to in it's place: cream. Not creamer, or half and half, but real honest to goodness cream. I bought some to make a rhubarb custard pie a couple weeks ago and used the rest in my coffee. I tried going back to the ole powdered creamer--I mean, I'm going to have to eventually, because wow cream is expensive--but it's just not the same.
I've just been enjoying as much as I can of this season of plenty which never seems to last long enough. Long days are spent picking goodies among itchy foliage surrounded by ravenous insects, and then enjoying the bounty. We've been eating fried zucchini like it's going out of style. I suppose I'll have to find another way to prepare large quantities of zucchini soon. Eli has started getting that mule-at-the-turnpike look when he comes home from work to find me over a pan of sizzling breaded cucurbits. "Do you know how fattening they are?" he worries as he polishes off his third helping. "Meh. They're vegetables." I answer. But really, I don't care. Zucchini season will soon be over and for the next 10 months we'll have to resort to the stash I've frozen.
So for this month's update, I again have succeeded in maintaining my weight, keeping it within two pounds of my lowest. This speaks volumes to the importance of moderation, because while I'm allowing foods I would not normally eat during my strict "dieting", I have continued to watch portion sizes and refrain from taking seconds. Cheers!
Ah summer...it brings so many good things! One of my favorites is pesto season. We love pesto as sauce or garnish on pizza (especially any kind of chicken pizza!), as sauce on noodles, and smeared on chicken breast as in this easy Pesto Tomato Smothered Chicken meal.
Today was pesto day!
Basil Pesto
Ingredients
1/2 cup pine nuts (I always use sliced almonds; walnuts can also substitute), lightly browned on stove top
3 cloves garlic
3 cups packed basil leaves
1/2 cup grated parmesan (or romano or asiago)
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 tsp. salt and pepper
Toast nuts in a pan using olive oil. Blend basil, nuts, garlic, and cheese, putting olive oil in blender slowly as it blends. Add salt and pepper and pulse until smooth. Add olive oil if you find it too thick.
You can freeze in small portions for easy thawing and use, or can in jars. Last year I used ice cube trays to freeze the pesto in, which proved very difficult to remove. This year I froze it in "plops" on a baking sheet covered in wax paper.
This recipe comes to you courtesy of my Aunt Reen, via my Mom, who convinced me that it's really so easy that I should be making my own pesto!
I ended up with 10 packed cups of basil after cleaning it, so I tripled the recipe.
Last year's small batch.
This year I got got 6 cups of pesto from the first batch of basil harvested. I froze most and canned two small jars.
My last Back to Basics post was completed in my usual manner: hurried, and on the tail end of a two-day migraine that was still causing some nausea--surrounded by the noise of my offspring. At the time I published it a little voice nagged that the post felt disjointed, not quite pulled together, but I had already spent a considerable amount of time trying to patch it up and just felt like pulling the flusher at that point. I've since gone back and edited the post to satisfy that little nagging voice.
The post was, no surprise, something I started writing two years ago, and have added to on and off ever since. To say it was all over the place is an understatement, but it does illustrate the fact that simplifying my life is far from a new ideal. In The Great Purge: Part I I described my desire but struggle to minimize our things. The Great (Furniture) Purge: Part II was about finally letting go of large unfinished projects and space gluttons. The (Not So) Great (Book) Purge: Part III illustrates my ongoing struggle to get rid of books, which is currently what I'm dealing with. The Great (Mostly Clothing) Purge: Part IV details the most overwhelming area of clutter for us... clothes. While I've shed copious amounts of tears over the baby clothes (specifically a stained box of burp rags that all four boys used), it's not particularly hard for me to part with most clothes. There are just so many of them. (I've also found in the past a minimalist wardrobe for boys does not work very well. The rate at which they grow out of and wear out clothes is mind blowing.)
This got me wondering, how many people from the past struggled with an excess of things? How many felt slaves to their possessions? I've certainly come across stories of the old time eccentrics and hoarders, but it definitely does not seem to be the norm for back then.
It's apparent that people are busier than ever these days. Just trying to schedule a day to get together with friends takes chess-like strategy and actual effort on both sides to make it work. With all the modern-day conveniences that we have, it should be easier keeping up, right? In theory we should have loads of free time. After all, we no longer have to scrub clothes over a washboard in a tub, or even run them through a wringer after washing, thanks to speedy spin cycles. Dryers have eliminated the need to spend time hanging clothes, and waiting hours for them to dry. We don't even have to leave the house to run a mile. Dishwashers have reduced post-meal clean up to some rinsing and wiping down (if you own one, that is!) Room-sized rugs no longer need to be hung over a railing to have the dust beaten out of them; vacuums can get the job done in minutes. There's a market full of creams, supplements, and machines that "do most of the work" for our bodies. Despite these aids, we seem to have a decreasing amount of time, and an increasing amount of health issues and disorders. What is going on?!
All these ponderings and ramblings have led me to the conclusion that we need to make changes to the very core of our lifestyles to simplify and find peace and happiness in our lives. This should be easy when viewed in light of what's coming in eternity, what really matters.
The theory I'm working off of, is that taking inspiration from our grandmothers' and grandfathers' ways of life will shed light on how to get back to the bare necessities if we find ourselves always falling behind, always stressed, always struggling to keep up. I'm still trying to find the balance of a simple life, and probably always will be, but it has gotten so much better lately.
For illustration sake, let me take you back in time to a much simpler way of life.
My personality naturally clings to traditions and classics, a lover of history, which is why I have to take care not to let my mind run away with the romance of an idealistic yet unrealistic lifestyle. There were obviously so many hardships that people endured because of the simpler times they lived in that most of us would not trade anything for. My goal is (simply) to simplify every aspect of my life. Even though swearing off the dryer in exchange for hanging all our laundry (which I really enjoy doing!), or dragging an old wood stove in here to cook sounds pretty stinking exciting to me...these are definitely not realistic. The new "in" word is minimalist, but whatever you choose to call it, there really is something to it.
Our grandparents worked hard. They taught their children to work hard and to be frugal. You cannot beat the satisfaction that comes from being productive, from the fruits of labor and being self-sufficient. It's freeing. There's also no need for a treadmill and the time to use it if you're on your feet most the day. Besides that, there is no way around it: working close to the earth makes you feel closer to God; a little cog in the wheel of creation. This is the main reason why I enjoy keeping a garden.
During the second World War people were encouraged to grow gardens in their backyards to help relieve the burden of wartime rationing. They were called Victory Gardens, and they made people feel part of the war effort. The thing is, they actually made a positive difference. Take a drive around suburbia now and you'll find very few edible gardens.
The older generations were mostly self-sufficient. Not only in growing, making, and preserving their own food, but they also built their own houses, barns, and furniture. They often sewed their own clothes and blankets, and did their own home maintenance. The time this took also meant that they made do with less. Paying others to do these things for them was almost unheard of in rural areas.
The skills needed to do these things were learned by passing the knowledge down from generation to generation. You didn't learn about animal husbandry or how to build steps that successfully reach from one floor to the next in a classroom, (paid for in all likelihood by borrowed money) but from Pa, and because he needed help with it. I would rather my sons knew how to plant a garden, or the basics of carpentry, than how to punch/kick/fireball in the latest video game. So many modern parents have adopted the mindset that children can't do much for themselves and need their hand held most their childhood. Give them the reigns to try, and I guarantee they will find for themselves how not to do things. Better yet, by getting hands-on experience, they will be less likely to forget how to do things. Staying busy with chores also helps eliminate a whole lot of trouble kids get themselves in because of boredom. Most kids, that is...there are exceptions to this, even in our family.
The older generations used things until they were literally unusable, instead of replacing things with the newest model--just because it was what the neighbors had. And often when something had worn out it's original purpose, it was reused in another capacity. As a child, many of the quilts I wrapped myself in were previously Grandma's polyester pants and Grandpa's Sunday shirts that had worn a little too thin. I remember sitting with Grandma and watching her knobby, work-worn hands point out this or that patch, and listening intently to what occasion she had worn it for. Each quilt was a collection of stories if only you cared to listen.
We call a lot of these ultra-frugal habits Depression-Era throwbacks or wartime habits, mannerisms learned during a time of great want. But is it that much different than simply living resourcefully with little waste? Nearly half of American homes put no money away in savings. How much poverty could we eliminate if we changed some of our living habits? How quick we often are to throw something out and buy new when all it needs is a little repair! Or worse--simply because we're tired of it! Our landfills are a monument to this waste.
Everything was simpler back then, from clothing to food. Meals were generally simple, nutritious, and enjoyed together as a family. Classics never go out of style, and neither do the basics.
Rather than making our lives easier, perhaps most of these gadgets we're filling our homes with are complicating life and stressing us out. Turning to a screen has become second nature for most of us. Isn't it a little disturbing that many children fail to know how to behave once they're disconnected from a screen? Being constantly entertained is creating a generation who will not be able to think for themselves, and a feeling of loss when they're deprived of it. It's no wonder so many of our children lack impulse control: they've been fed a steady diet of instant gratification.
People used to tell stories and play music around a fire. It was part of life, not just an occurrence during the annual family camping trip. Can you imagine the pioneers' reactions to how we "camp" now, and that we do it for recreation?! What in the world?!
They said daily prayers and read books as a family. They used their minds and imaginations instead of zoning out in front of a television, letting it direct their mind. Attention spans were longer; they had to be because critical thinking skills were essential for life. "Extracurricular" activities did not include shuttling children around for hours to practices or games, or staying on top of complicated schedules. And I say this as a mother with boys in little league. I hesitate to sign them up for anything else because of the chaos it would cause our summer.
People used to hand-write letters or physically called on friends and family. Recipes were written out and hand-delivered or mailed. Showing people you cared was true charity; visiting someone in person takes much more effort than shooting them a text. Is it really that much more work to show someone you care?
How do we glean usable habits from what we know of the past? I've been jotting down a few things that have helped us simplify our life:
First of all, minimizing happens in layers. We can't expect to raze our lives and homes and boom: stress free life.
Remember that these are just things. We don't want relationships with things, but people.
Start with the obvious junk, the stuff that is really useless or trash.
Then ask, if it broke would it be a serious inconvenience? Would I really miss it? If not, try letting it go and never replacing it.
Next eliminate multiples of things or many similar items. Try keeping just one, or just one per person.
Are there things that have been stored for over a year without use? If so, you can probably live without it for much longer. Like forever.
Does it have a home? If an item does not have a proper place to be (and I do not mean a storage tote or tucked in a corner): it's gone.
Declutter in zones. Splitting our homes into trouble areas helps prioritize the spaces that need the most help, and keeps us from becoming overwhelmed with too much at once.
STOP SHOPPING. Well, yeah, right? But I don't think we realize how many things we actually buy. It doesn't help us get ahead of the excess if we just keep adding to it. This is especially hard in this age of Amazon "Buy With One Click" buttons and impulse buys at the corner of every check out lane. When we try, we really can live without most things. I've found the best success in deleting shopping apps from my phone and just staying out of stores. And when you need something only pick up that thing instead of browsing around the store. I'm working on this one, so if you see me in the store and I don't see you it's because I have my eye on the prize and am making a bee-line to the toilet paper aisle.
Once you've decided to part with something, get it out of your house. I can't count the hours of extra work I've spent re-removing things that found their way back into our lives because a box was left just sitting around. Or the things I fell back in love with just because I looked at it one too many times! For the things I'm selling, I move them out to the garage for two weeks. If it hasn't sold in two weeks, it's donated. And since I don't have the time or energy for a garage sale, anything worth less than $5 is just donated.
Watch others declutter. Knowing we're not alone in this ongoing endeavor is comforting, and helps give us ideas of what to tackle and how to do it. (Or how not to do it.) There are helpful videos on YouTube. Here are a couple of my favorite:
The Messy Minimalist (Rachel has an endearing personality and I find I have quite a bit in common with her house keeping skills):
And the more extreme minimalist, Darci Isabella, though a Catholic homeschooling mother of ten (she keeps just one cup/bowl/plate for each of her children!):
Minimalism looks different for every one, and once you begin you'll discover what it looks like for you. Even among my boys the differences are very obvious. One is completely content with a toy sword and his bike to play with, and wears the same two T-shirts and two pairs of shorts over and over. Another I can't even ask to throw anything away for me because I'll find it stashed in his closet, and if something breaks you would think he was physically wounded.
Each "layer" you succeed in simplifying gives you a boost to tackle the next. The reward: liberation from things and a more peaceful life!
