Rotel risotto

Don't be fooled by the name.
It doesn't taste like the dip.

I am not even kidding when I tell you I made risotto with Rotel tomatoes tonight. Nor am I joking when I tell you I love it, and I'm going to make it again.

I know some of you are now fainting. Wait, if you're still standing, I had Taco Bell for lunch. [Which just reminded me that I really hate Taco Bell, after years of it being my favorite fast food fetish, and that I don't ever go there anymore because I never like it when I do. Apparently I have to remind myself of that about once a year.]

Back to the Rotel risotto.

I had in the back of my head that maybe I'd make some risotto tonight, when I absentmindedly opened my cabinet. And there -- crowded in with everything else -- sat the Rotel. I buy the mild version, finding it more than plenty hot for me. And every once in a while I just get a craving for it. Most of the time, I use it in soup -- it is so handy. It's a great shortcut for getting a bit of heat and some spices in a vegetable, bean or tortilla soup.

Tonight I just sat there, trying to decide between risotto and soup, and I realized maybe I didn't have to decide. Here's what I did -- and unlike most recipes, I can't think of any way I'd change this one!

Rotel Risotto
1 c. arborio rice
2 T. butter
3-4 cloves garlic
2-3 c. chicken broth
1/2 c. white wine
1 can Rotel diced tomatoes
1 c. cream-style corn [I had some leftover from Thanksgiving, but I'm sure canned would work.]
1 jar Kraft Old English cheese spread
Oregano

Bring chicken broth to a simmer and hold it there.

Melt butter over medium heat and add rice and garlic. Stir frequently until rice begins to turn golden. Add 1/2 c. or so of broth and stir frequently. Turn heat down on rice to medium low or low, just enough to keep it at a slow simmer. Add more broth each time the liquid is absorbed.

When the rice approaches al dente, spoon in three heaping spoonfuls of Rotel, draining the liquid. This is a little more than half the can. Add the corn. Add 1/2 c. wine, and stir until absorbed. Add 1 t. or so of oregano and the cheese spread. Turn off the heat and stir until cheese melts.

This is rating very high on the comfort food scale for me.

A wall of Girl Scout cookies

  Good grief! 

I'm not dead, but I've felt that way from last Wednesday til yesterday. Today I finally felt like about 60% of myself again so we have had a busy day.

I took the day off work since the 7yo had a holiday from school, and good thing, too. Look what she brought with her from her dad's this morning: more than 100 boxes of Girl Scout cookies, around half her total sale. Please don't be too impressed; as a 6yo she actually sold 300. Nonetheless, we spent about an hour today sorting and pricing these 100+ boxes. Deliveries begin tomorrow!

So hungry you just can't eat

Hungry Toddler [That's my new name for the 1yo. Don't worry, there's not a third one magically running around here. It's just such an accurate description of the boy it's hard not to go with it.] has entered a new phase in his eating development. Perhaps I should say, the second phase. Because as far as I can tell, his whole life til now, you could describe his eating habits like this:

See food. Eat food.

He didn't care where he was, what the food was, who was eating -- nothing. If there was food available, he was having some.

In this fashion he has already distinguished himself from his older sister, who from birth has been, shall we say, more discriminating in her tastes. HT gets comments on his day-care reports like, "Good eater!" as if we are practicing at home for the Food Olympics. I long ago stopped complaining about the 7yo's eating habits -- I have met children much, much worse -- but let's just say that no one's complimented her healthy eating habits lately.

So HT's latest habit took me aback the first few times it happened. I know that most children grow pickier -- such a negative word -- in their second year, but I wasn't ready for him to refuse breakfast when I knew he was hungry. Or dinner. Or a drink when he was clearly thirsty. This has happened repeatedly in the past couple of weeks, only when he's desperately hungry, usually right when he wakes up or right when we get home in the evening.

Then it hit me -- I had done the same thing as a child. In fact, I remembered a time when I was much older than he when I was practically fainting from hunger. We were in New York and I was 15 years old. And have you ever been so hungry that only one thing will do? We had several things to eat in the hotel room, but I made my dad order room service at 11 p.m. because I had to have a burger and fries. I mean really. What would I have done if we'd been at home, in Bolivar, Tenn.?? I remember crying over this plate of fries. That is a strange thing to remember [ha, it's a strange thing to have done], but I'm telling you, I was h-u-n-g-r-y.

And that's exactly how HT is acting. He refuses 2, 3, sometimes 4 things, throws his milk cup to the floor, screaming all the while....then the fifth time I hand him something -- it might be something new, or maybe what I tried the first or third time -- he eats as if he hasn't seen food in a week.

I sure hope he outgrows this before HE is 15.

It's true; everyone loves them

The NYT today notifies us that pigs in a blanket are back! Apparently they've been decreed no-longer-gauche, perhaps solely because people love them so much they can't bear not to serve them at their fancy parties.

Well, I've never been above serving pigs in a blanket. Or Rotel dip. Or that cheese-spread-with-strawberry-preserves-in-the-middle. I try to spice things up with new dishes, but people like to eat the comfort foods. Why must we deny that, or make folks feel guilty?

Bring on the Jello and Kraft Singles!