Mighty Mamahood

Posted on May 1, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

SO DO NOT FEAR, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you;

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

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This arrived in my inbox today… and I just had to share it.

I relate – to both the ‘wanna-be-anywhere-else-woman’ and to the fact no matter what mamahood brings, I am convicted: I will not be broken.

I WILL NOT BE BROKEN.

Yes, I will cry. I will yell. I will fall short. I will nag. I will be overlooked, dismissed, and sometimes forgotten.

But… I will rise. I will breathe. I will stand tall in this womanly skin and I will do my best – with the strength and grace of God – to battle for my babies… and be a warrior they can count on.

I hope that today, in whatever battle you are fighting, and with whatever mamawork you find yourself in the midst of, you remember: YOU ARE MIGHTY.

http://youtu.be/Xa-7jtvi7J4

“Skinny” and Other Dirty Words

Posted on April 30, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

“Everything is permissible,” but not everything is helpful. “Everything is permissible,” but not everything builds up.

1 Corinthians 10:23

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Our family has a list of ‘no-no’ words we don’t throw around lightly:

Hate.
Stupid.
Butt.
Fart.

I can’t stand them. They are ‘dirty words’ around here – and, I always tell my kids: you are way to smart and classy to need to use these cheap words to communicate an idea.

A couple other ‘dirty words’ in our house are “skinny” and “exercise”.

Skinny is a burdensome word. It’s shallow, and base, and empty. It drives me crazy to see commercials about ‘being skinny’ or ‘getting skinny’; I just about come out of my skin when I read blogs that focus on how to get a ‘hot, skinny bod’ or where women flash photos of their ‘skinny’ selves as the ‘standard’ that all of us other women need to strive for.

Skinny means nothing, okay? Nothing at all. Skinny does not mean healthy, happy, or confident. Skinny does not mean fit. Skinny does not mean ‘good mommy’, ‘hot woman’, or ‘successful lady’. No – skinny just means ‘skinny’… and I’ve seen my share of ‘skinny’ that looks frail, and weak, and gray.

What the real goal should be – and what I tell my girls all the time – is: forget skinny, focus on healthy!

Focus on how you eat and what you eat: Are you eating whole foods? Fruits? Fresh vegetables? Drinking lots of water?
Be aware of your body: Is it strong? Is it energized? Can you make it do what you want it to do, and can you wear what you want to wear? Is it sickly? Is it tired? Does your body burden you, or do feel like you have control? How do you feel after you eat certain things and/or certain portion sizes?
Watch your cravings: Are you in control, or do you eat mindlessly? Can you say no when you want to?

…Because the fact of the matter is this: our bodies are a reflection of our lifestyle. If we focus on a healthy lifestyle, obtaining a lean, fit body won’t be a burden and obsession – it will be a natural consequence.

The other dirty word is ‘exercise’. It’s loaded, and crushing, and heavy, and exhausts us before we even begin the day… and you will never hear me tell my kids to exercise.

I can just hear you now: What, Elisha? You don’t tell your kids to exercise?

No. Never. And I am directly opposed to all the ‘get up and move’ campaigns that are everywhere these days. Why?

Because I don’t want to raise kids that think they can out-exercise a bad food foundation. Period.

Every day in my house is a new day to impress upon my children if we eat out of boxes, wrappers, and fast food windows; if we eat mindlessly and indulge whenever we feel the urge; if we don’t understand how food impacts us physically; if we don’t cook and instead depend on corporations to nourish us - ‘exercise’ won’t do a thing for health.

What I also tell them is they should pay attention to the body they’ve been blessed with, and honor it. We must think – and choose. We must honor our body by using our body – by making it stronger, feeding it well, resting it when it needs rest, pushing it’s limits, and listening to it when it gives signs like sickness, weight gain, and weakness. I encourage them not to ‘exercise’, but to do what they’ve been created with an ability to do: play, run, jump, kick, skateboard, dribble; stretch; move; take a walk; breathe fresh air.

And, on the flip side, I teach them what is not honoring…

It’s not honoring to our bodies to sit around all day playing technology…
It’s not honoring to our bodies to be lazy…
It’s not honoring to our bodies to make food choices that burden us with extra weight, and make us sick and tired…
It’s not honoring to our bodies to be mindless with our health, our physical being, our existence.

See, I don’t want my kids to grow up with ‘skinny’ as a goal, or ‘exercise’ as a burden, or victims of their physical bodies, or fearful of food. I DO want my kids to grow up understanding that a healthy, fit body is a free body – and a healthy, fit body naturally flows from choosing the right foods and choosing to honor the bodies they were uniquely created with.

My heart is for my kids to take joy in owning, using, and moving their bodies – and, yes, that may mean they find joy in weight training, or running, or zumba – all those things we term as ‘exercise’ these days. But, again, they will do it by choice and from a desire to push their physical limits – not out of blind allegiance to the buzz word of our time. I want my kids to grow up – particularly my girls – with confidence that, even during seasons where their bodies will change (through age, pregnancy, life), self-control is always theirs… always.

I’m raising my kids to see that truly healthy children – and truly healthy adults! – are healthy and fit in mind first. They:

…intrinsically value themselves, and make choices that show it.

…understand how to be in the world without being overcome by the world.

…are honest with themselves and know their choices directly impact their overall well being.

…recognize they are strong.

…recognize they are powerful.

…recognize they are in control of what they become.

And, they, with wide eyes, see the mountain of life in front of them and can’t help but rise to the challenge, wield their body as a perfectly hewn tool, and climb.

AM Northwest: Fresh Fruit Hand Pies

Posted on April 29, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

As a mom, there’s not much I get ‘props’ for. No one jumps for joy when I wash and fold their clothes; no one really notices when I go grocery shopping, or make lunches, or sweep the floor. (I wrote about motherhood being a tough gig not too long ago.) And hey – that’s the life of a mom, so I don’t sweat it. But one of the reasons I love, love, love to cook and to bake is because, without fail, when my kids catch whiffs of what I’m stewing, or baking, or sautéing… it draws them to me.

That’s the thing about cooking: the sweet, delicious smells created by my work call my babies to my side quicker than words ever do. They come in close, lean in, and ask for nibbles. They want to talk about what’s going into the pan; they ask questions like: Mom, did you make this up? Have I eaten it before? Will I like this?

They see ingredients at their finest – fresh, colorful, clean. They see me confidently using my hands to prepare and dice and toss and squeeze. They see me choose, and manipulate, and ‘dance’ my mama’s dance of love. And, when it’s all done, they enjoy the fruits of my labor.

It’s seeing my babies enjoy my ‘work’ and celebrate my ‘dance’ – that’s why I cook.

I especially love the squeals of joy when I make these:

Fresh Fruit Hand Pies with Homemade Flaky Puff Pastry

Call these my rebel yell against commercialize pop tarts, breakfast strudels, and sugary cereal. I dreamed them up in my kitchen one day when I had an abundance of mangos and some leftover tart dough… and I can’t believe it took me so long to begin creating these. They are just sweet enough with the fresh fruit and the slight addition of sugar that I wouldn’t hesitate to serve one for breakfast with a couple eggs – or as an after school treat with a glass of milk. And man, let me tell you: the kids really think they’re getting something spectacular when they eat these.

The crust is super simple, the filling is fresh and easy to prepare, and based on the reaction of my kiddos, all kids are sure to enjoy making and eating.

Here goes:

First, make the dough.

2.5 cups flour
2 regular sticks of salted butter
2 TBSP sugar
12-13 TBSP ice water

Add flour, butter, and sugar to the bowl of a food processor. Turn on for 10 seconds nonstop. Then, pulse and additional 5-8 times. The goal is for butter bits to be about a little larger than pea sized…. so don’t over process!
Drizzle a TBSP of water at a time through the top of the food processor and pulse for 1 second after each water addition.
Pour mixture from food processor bowl into a large mixing bowl and, using your hands, squeeze the dough together until all of the mixture is stuck together. (NOTE: The dough should lean to the dry side. If it is too dry, wet your hands and continue to work dough until it adheres. If it is too sticky, add a tsp of flour at a time until the stickiness is gone.
Form two discs, wrap in plastic, and chill.

While dough chills, prepare your filling. Here are some great options…

Mango/Coconut filling
Dice up some champagne mangos and toss with sweetened shredded coconut.

Apple filling
Peel and dice up granny smith apples. (Apple pieces should be just slightly larger than a corn kernal.) Toss the apples with a little sugar and a squeeze of lemon juice.

Fresh Berries
Toss fresh blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, blackberries – anything! – with a little sugar and squeeze of lemon juice.

Assemble the handpies:

Preheat the oven and a baking sheet to 400 degrees.
Roll out your chilled dough on a floured surface until it’s about 1/8 of an inch thick.
Cut out whatever shape you’d like with an oversized cookie cutter, or other found object from your kitchen. (Large coffee cups make great cutters for circular hand pies.)
Fill the center of your shape so that you maintain about a 1/2 inch around the outside of the filling. Dip your finger in the egg wash and coat the edge along the outside of the filling.
Take a second shape and cover the filled piece. Gently push the edges together being careful not to push the filling out of the sides. Then, dip a fork into the egg wash and ‘seal’ the edges with the fork.
Using a pastry brush, wash the top of the hand pie thoroughly, then score with either a knife or a several fork pricks.
OPTIONAL: You can sprinkle colored pastry sugar over the top before baking. If you are making the apple pies, you can add chopped store-bought caramels and sprinkle a pinch of coarse sea salt over the top for a ‘salted carmel apple’ pie.
Place the assembled pies onto a preheated baking sheet and bake at 400 degrees for approximately 18-20 minutes, or until the pies are golden brown.

For “Salted Carmel Apple” Handpie: fill with prepared apples, a few pieces of store-bought carmel (diced), and then, after you apply egg wash to assembled pie, top with a pinch of corse sea salt.

These little gems are amazing warm… but just as yummy served cold – especially when thrown into a lunch pail for your little love.

Check out today’s AM Northwest segment from this morning where Dave and I made these up:

http://www.katu.com/amnw/segments/Homemade-Fruit-Pies-204900551.html

Coconut Mung (“Mungo”) Beans and Quinoa That Would Make My Nana Proud

Posted on April 24, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

What I’m about to share with you goes deep.

It’s not just any recipe – it’s a recipe that has me 8 years old with smoke in my eyes and my nana’s voice in my ears. It’s a dish I remember coming home to after school; I’d get off the bus and my old lady would yell from across the yard and over the chickens, “Come on for mungo beans.” It would be close to 90 degrees out and I’d be dying for a cold shower to rinse off the sticky island sweat. But man, when mungo beans were on the table, her smoky outdoor kitchen was the only place I wanted to be.

I’d sit down and she’d hand me a military-issued spoon and metal bowl filled with mungo beans simmered with coconut milk from the yard and ham from the neighbors pig down the street. I’d wash it down with ice cold rain water from one of her rusty can cups – and, as I ate, she wouldn’t say a word. No questions about school. No small talk about homework or friends or chores. She’d just sit and watch me eat while she used a paper plate to fan away the heavy heat and the flies… and that’s how she loved me.

Dried Mung (“Mungo”) Beans

Mung beans – aka”mungo” beans. Small and simple, yet full of flavor – just like my sweet nana.

I used to have to buy them at oriental food stores (they originated in India, but are big in Chinese and Asian cuisine), but now can find them in the bulk section at my local grocery – which thrills me. They are GORGEOUS little things – my favorite green – with a very mild flavor.

Now, my nana’s original recipe used something I don’t have: fresh out-of-the-coconut coconut milk. Thankfully, however, there are good canned versions that get me pretty close to the original taste.

On the other hand, I use something my nana never did: quinoa. The quinoa gives another layer of flavor and better texture… and look how beautiful it sits in your bowl:

Coconut Mung Beans and Quinoa topped with Bacon

Here’s what you’ll need:

EVOO to coat the bottom of the pan (Extra Virgin Olive Oil)
2 cups whole dried mung beans
6 cups broth
1 small onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic, diced and smashed
1 can of coconut milk
2 TBSP soy sauce
Black pepper to taste
For garnish: pre-cooked bacon

Heat a soup pot and add enough EVOO to coat the bottom.
With pan on medium high (a 7 out of 10), add onions and garlic and sauté for about a minute or two – just until the onions are translucent.
Add dry mung and broth. Bring to a rapid boil for a few minutes, then turn down heat to medium, cover the pot, and allow to simmer gently for approximately 45 minutes. NOTE: You want the beans tender, but intact.
Once beans are tender, add the coconut milk, soy sauce, and black pepper; and, gently incorporate the ingredients into the beans.
DONE!
Ladle beans into bowls and top with crispy bacon bits… and some chili paste if you like some heat!
NOTE ON BACON: No, you can NOT use bacon bits out of a jar – and, as a matter of fact, you shouldn’t even own bacon bits in a jar! To cook bacon I always do it in the oven – and you can do it while the beans are simmering for this dish. Just preheat the oven to 425, and then cook bacon on a cookie sheet for approximately 12-15 minutes, or until perfectly crisp. No mess, no turning, no babysitting: just perfect bacon to make your bacon bits.

Now, you’ll notice I didn’t have any ham in the recipe like my nana did. (You can definitely simmer a hambone in the beans and you will be thrilled with the flavor. I, however, don’t typically do it that way – mainly because I rarely have a ham bone hanging around.) But, while I don’t cook the ham in the soup, I do top the bowl with the bacon bits – an alternative that adds great presentation and crispy bacon texture.

Beautiful, isn’t it?

Rebel on,

Real Beauty

Posted on April 17, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

Be transformed by the renewing of your mind… Romans 12:2

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I’ve watched this several times now, and I cry each time. I cry because… I hear the voices.

…the voice of the girl in 5th grade that said, “Why is your forehead so big?”

…the voice of the old boyfriend that said, “You know, there are lots of girls more beautiful than you.”

…the voice of the ballet teacher that said, “Your knees are way to big to ever dance well.”

…the voice of the world telling me all my life, “You know you’ll never measure up to that… to her… to ‘something wonderful’.”

I look at the women that went through this exercise, and… I relate. I feel their weight of their heart and their self-descriptive words. I see the girl in me: Insecure, critical, self-deprecating. And that girl – oh, my heart aches for that girl that I was (and can still be).

But thankfully, the Sweetest Voice I’ve ever heard breaks through all the noise. It’s a voice unlike any other – it’s small and quiet and whispers drips of Truth into my heart.

And the Truth is this – the Truth I wish I would have known before a I allowed all those other voices a place in my soul: We are not beautiful because of what we look like; our real value is not determined by our appearance.

Beauty isn’t the exterior. It doesn’t come from fixing up our hair and putting on makeup and letting it all hang out for ‘admiration’. (1 Peter 3:3-4). No. That’s the world’s definition – the definition that keeps us women hostage and broken and vulnerable.

The Sweet Voice told me (and continues to remind me every day) beauty is borne in gentleness, in sweetness, in a laugh, and a friendly wink, and soft words that build others up and not tear them down.

Beauty is confident and strong, yet humble; it is modest and captivating, bright and gracious.

Beauty is tenderness with my babies.

Beauty is a confident, lingering kiss with my man.

Beauty is my uncontrollable laughter with my girls that brings out every wrinkle around my eyes.

Beauty is my warm arms wrapped around a sister in need.

Beauty is heavy tears shed with a friend over loss, or heartache.

Beauty is thoughtfulness and unselfish presence and compassion.

Beauty is kindness to a stranger.

Real beauty emanates from me when His Spirit emanates from me… when His brightness overtakes the darkness that struggles to keep it’s hold on me. It’s when His love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control trump my human tendencies to be anything but. (Galatians 5:22-23).

Real beauty isn’t dependent on what I look like… real beauty is Him living out through me.

So, today: LET’S BE REAL BEAUTIES – REBEL BEAUTIES. Let’s remember that we can’t make this dark world more beautiful with more lipgloss – we can only make it more beautiful when the fruits of His Spirit bloom on the trees of our lives. (Psalm 90:17).

Motherhood: It’s A Tough Gig Sometimes

Posted on April 15, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

Mom Necklace by Lisa Leonard Designs.

This morning was pretty typical around here.

I got up a little earlier than everyone… made lunches, made coffee, and folded the clothes I threw into the dryer before bed last night. I let everyone sleep a few extra minutes – but then I handed out morning back rubs and whispered “time to get up” room by room and slowly woke the house.

For some reason everyone needed a shower this morning. So, while each of my girls disappeared into a bathroom, I took a few minutes and did something I rarely do: I made their beds. My heart was simply to surprise them – give them one less thing to do this morning as they hurried to get ready for school.

I returned downstairs and, within a few minutes, the beckoning began. One needed pants; another needed a shirt; one needed an entire outfit. I dug through my freshly washed pile of clothes and delivered the favorites to each of them. And man: there is nothing like fresh clothes out of the dryer after a shower, right?

Soon the tribe filed down, one by one. They ate the breakfast I made with the food I shopped for. They grabbed the lunches I prepared with their favorites foods – and a requested treat of some jellybeans. They were each sharply dressed in their clean clothes I stayed up late and got up early to wash and fold for them. And, as for the fact I made their beds? Not one of them noticed… at least, not one of them mentioned it even if they did.

So, we said our goodbyes as shoes were put on and backpacks were slung and frustration was had because one ‘couldn’t find her ring’ and I ‘must have lost it’. And then – they were out the door.

Peace. Quiet. A dirty kitchen. Aloneness. That’s what they left me.

Why am I sharing all this? Because when mornings like this happen – mornings where my love is overlooked, dismissed, unappreciated – I am not angry, or depressed, or surprised. I am humbled.

I am humbled as I think, Father, do I do this to you? Do I wake up and overlook your kindness and your sweetness and your blessing?

He wakes me in my clean bed with my faithful man beside me and His beautiful sunrise outside… and I rush into the day.

I make the coffee, and breakfast, and lunches He graciously provides; I clean my big house, drive in my dependable car, wear my nice clothes… all without a second thought.

He is so kind and so gracious and so merciful to give me another day to breathe and be present – and… do I notice these things? Do I stop and see Him? Do I feel His love and His thoughtfulness? Do I notice the little surprises He brings my way – not because I need them, but simply because He knows I love gifts and wants to thrill me beyond belief?

The truth is: I’ve been getting better and better about thanking Him with my every breath. Maybe it’s because now that I’m a parent I see what it’s like to be overlooked; I see what’s it like to be forgotten and dismissed; I see what it’s like to have my children upset with me for no reason; I see what it’s like to lay all that I am on the line – only to have my children say, “Great – I got it from here.”

Motherhood is a tough gig sometimes… but, because of it, I get it.

I see what’s it’s like and I know what it feels like – and that’s what pushes my heart even closer to my Father.

I get why He sticks it out with me.

I get why He he loves me in spite of me.

I get why He continues to show up and help me through the tough stuff… even though so often I’ve pushed Him away with “Great – I got it from here.”

I get why He constantly reminds me, “…I will be with you; I will not fail you or abandon you.”

I get why, even though I turn my back on Him, He loves me unconditionally.

I hope that today you get it, too. Because while mothering can be tough, we have a Faithful Friend to strengthen and love us through the journey.

PRAYER: Father, help us mamas to see the blessing in every breath we take today. Sometimes this mama gig is a tough one: we get overlooked, are often unappreciated, and more often then not, we are exhausted from service. But thank you that You offer us strength! Thank you that when we cling to You, we can be selfless as You are selfless; we can be strong as You are strong; we can love unconditionally as You love us unconditionally. Thank you for being a perfect example of what Love looks like… and thank you for loving us in spite of ourselves. May we serve with joy today – and may we not forget that our men and our babies need our warm arms, our sweet voices, our gentle spirits, and our encouraging words. In Jesus Name, Amen.

Quinoa (Dutch) Baby, Oh Yeah!

Posted on April 11, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

My earliest memories of ‘breakfast’ are from when I was 5. We were living in an apartment in Oakland, California. Every morning before Kindergarten my nana would get me out of bed, sit me in my dad’s antique rocker with the velvet cushions and lions head arm-rests, and she’d serve me toast with strawberry jelly and a cup of coffee.

(Yes, I said “kindergarten” and “cup of coffee” in the same sentence.)

Sometimes I’d get cereal… and, sometimes I’d get her scrambled eggs. But without a doubt: breakfast was always one of those three dishes.

Then, my next breakfast memories are from when I was about 9 and in Guam. I remember the feel of the cool island air on my skin as I sat in the open doorway of our tin shack’s back porch. I always made it just in time to watch my nana throw cracked corn to the masses of chickens cooing in her honor. Half asleep, I’d watch her routine – and then, when her pockets were empty of the chicken goodies, she’d walk next door to her house and then return to mine with one of three things: a bag of warm donuts from the old man that used to sell them out of the back of his car on our street, a stack of her famous pancakes, or a plate of scrambled eggs.

Again, I could always count on it being one of those three things… and, honestly: the lack of variety never bothered me one bit.

So it is in my house these days. Breakfast is one of those meals where my kids can pretty much bank on one of a handful things, typically: cereal, fruit, and hardboiled eggs; quinoa porridge; or this:

Quinoa Dutch Baby, served with a dusting of powdered sugar, a drizzle of real maple syrup, and fresh strawberries

The beauty of this dish is that, while it looks gourmet and totally wows the kiddos, IT IS SO SIMPLE. Seriously, it cooks itself! Here’s what you do:

Ingredients to make one 9×11 glass baking dish (feeds 4-5):

4 eggs, room temperature (you can bring eggs to room temperature by soaking them in their shell in a bowl of warm water for 5 minutes)
1 cup milk
1 cup flour, sifted
two pinches of nutmeg
1 cup of cooked quiona
3 TBSP butter, sliced in squares

Place your glass baking dish in the oven and pre-heat the oven (and the dish) to 425.
Whisk your eggs until they are light. Add the milk, flour, and nutmeg; and, gently whisk until all ingredients are blended. (NOTE: It’s okay for it to be a little chunky, so don’t over mix!)

When the oven is ready, here’s where you’ll need to work a little quick:

Remove the hot pan (carefully!) from the oven. Place the butter squares in the pan so they begin to melt. Using a fork, stab a butter square and butter up the sides of the pan, too.
Pour the cooked quinoa into the buttered pan; toss it quickly through the butter and evenly distribute it.
Immediately pour in your batter over the quinoa making sure the batter goes to each edge of the pan. (Yes, it will disrupt the perfect distribution of your quinoa, but that’s okay.)
Return the pan to the oven. Bake for approximately 13-15 minutes, or until the center is set, and the sides are lightly brown and begin to curl up the sides of the pan.

Voilà!

Now, here’s a big difference between my quinoa dutch baby and a traditional: This version won’t give you the impressive ‘rise’ of a true dutch baby due to the density of the whole quinoa. BUT, what it lacks in rise, it makes up for in texture and flavor. (Since you add the quinoa to a hot buttered pan, it crisps just a little and – mmmm! – you get a little crunch here and there…)

Now, peeps, seriously, there are some MUSTS for serving this yumminess hot out of the oven:

You MUST use real maple syrup when you serve this little number… and just a drizzle! You don’t want it drunk on maple syrup.
You MUST also use fresh fruit of some kind, like berries, or mango, or a warm fruit compote made by simply throwing some frozen berries in the microwave. The texture of this dutch baby is very dense, so the fresh fruit lightens it.
You MUST dust with powdered sugar. Notice I said ‘dust’. It’s simply for effect more than anything. The goal is for the sweetness to come from the fruit and maple syrup, not an abundance of powdered sugar.

You may be asking: “Elisha, what if I don’t want it with the powdered sugar and maple syrup? ” Or, “what can I do with the leftovers?”

Here’s an alternative for serving (and it’s even better when they are cold):

Quinoa Dutch Baby topped with a dollop of plain greek yogurt and fresh strawberries

And that’s it!

Please note that this recipe is not gluten-free. I used regular flour for this recipe, although I’m guessing it’s possible to replace the regular flour with gluten-free flour. Would you do me a favor? If you make a gluten-free version of this, would you come back and share it with us? I’d love to hear how it turns out and what (if any) alterations you had to make to cooking time.

Happy eating everyone!

The Queen of Leftovers and Lasts

Posted on April 9, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

Whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will [her]self be watered.

Proverbs 11:25

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One thing most people probably don’t realize about us mamas is this: we are Queens of the Leftovers and the Lasts.

We thrive on the left behinds that no one else wants, like the the burnt toast, the black jellybeans, the half-eaten bananas. We typically care for ourselves last, which means we’ve learned to persevere with cold dinners and wrinkly clothes. And, we don’t skip a beat when we are the last to get a break, the last to take a shower, or the last to hit the pillow at the end of the day.

It’s called Mamahood… and there is no place for selfishness, whining, or feeble knees.

If we have the right perspective, however, not all the ‘lefttovers and lasts’ are a bummer. Take today, for example. I fed the kids, fed my man, made lunches, and got everyone out the door. When all was quiet, it was time for me to get a bite; and, as I surveyed my kitchen to spy what had to be salvaged so as not to waste, here’s what I was left with:

About a half cup of quinoa at the bottom of the pot

About a handful of edemame and half an alatufo mango

About a handful of edemame and half an ataulfo mango

Hmmm…

Well, with these random barely-there ingredients, this Queen of Leftovers did this:

Put the 1/2 cup of precooked quinoa in a bowl.
Diced up the 1/2 of the ataulfo mango (aka ‘Manila mango, or champagne mango) and shelled the 1/2 cup of edemame.
Drizzled a bit of EVOO, squeezed a little fresh lime juice, and topped the whole thing with a sprinkling of Furikake, which is a Japanese ‘condiment’ of toasted sesame seeds and nori.

And lookie lookie: a beautiful, colorful quinoa, edemame, mango salad

Let me tell you: my ‘leftovers and lasts’ turned into something spectacular I probably never would have thought to throw together otherwise. It was beautiful. It was light. It was fresh and fragrant and exactly what I needed to start my day. Yum. Yum. Yum. (NOTE: This would be an AMAZING lunch for work, or even a side salad for a bbq.)

So, today, as we mamas do what we do best – serve, and love, and serve, and lay down all that we are for our little tribes – let’s do it with heads held high, joy in our hearts, and determination to be a bright light in our homes. Why? Because there is beauty in the leftovers and the lasts… the question is: are we creative enough to see it?

REBEL GRAIN IS BACK!

Posted on April 8, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

Drum roll please…. Rebel Grain is back!

Thanks to my beautiful, talented, very patient and gracious designer Jessica Tate – my heart now has a home.

Over the last several months I’ve sensed a transition coming on. At first I thought maybe we’d move (so we were looking at houses). Then, I thought maybe we’d be moving the kids to new schools (so we started looking around). I mean, there was something – just something – that was keeping me/us uneasy. So, I kept praying, kept my eyes on Him – patient, waiting… and I/we breathed a little easier as neither of those first ideas grew any feet. Then, it happened. I received some news from my SmartyBars manufacturer, and the ‘just something’ I felt coming became clear: SmartyBars, my business for the last two years and labor of love, was coming to an end.

After I hyperventilated at my computer and cried quite a few tears, I got up and kept walking. I called around, started asking question to see if I could find a new place to run my product… but, weeks passed and the signs still kept flashing: END OF CHAPTER.

So… as the job of human requires, I pulled myself together, zipped up my thick skin, and, with goose-bump covered arms, turned the page to this new chapter. It’s a chapter where the name “Rebel Grain” continues, and where the story of rebellion continues to unfold.

I’ve redesigned this place to – hopefully! – be a place where you and I can meet. You’ll notice some new things, such as:

“Just Quinoa” in the top navigation bar gives you access to all my quinoa recipes in one place
Each post is now easier to share – just look for the share buttons at the end of each new entry
PinIt for Pintrest has been added to every post photo as well, so PLEASE: Pin away!
You can subscribe to the blog two ways: (1) to your inbox via the link in the sidebar, or (2) via bloglovin’ (just be sure to download the app!). And, YES, I’d love for you to subscribe!
CATEGORIES have been simplified: Being, Believing, Mothering, Loving, Eating… but, you can continue to search TAGS through the side bar drop down menu.
You can “Journey With Me” via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pintrest, and YouTube via the icons in the side bar

My hope is that you’ll join me regularly to eat quinoa, keep the faith, spill our hearts, and share the the highs and lows of mothering the next generation of women and men. Most importantly, that you’ll join me for this: ENCOURAGEMENT. Encouragement to eat well, love our men, fight for our kids, and live sexy and confident in our womanly skin.

We’re in this together – aren’t we?

WE ARE THE REBEL GRAIN.

A Dish With Heart: Rustic Mushroom and Goat Cheese Tart

Posted on March 12, 2013 by Elisha Joyce

Something you might not know about me is this: I was not raised to cook.

My entire life my nana lived with us and she was our nourisher. She made all our meals – from our breakfast toast and coffee, to our after school meal of chicken soup and rice. While she was forced to use a conventional stove while we lived in California, when I was seven we returned to Guam – and she returned to her true comfort zone: her outdoor kitchen.

My sweet nana in the early morning – protecting her hair from the humidity

All the cooking I remember as a child was done over an open fire in a tiny 8×10 tin shack – aka the ‘outdoor kitchen’. Pots black from smoke from the fire. A knife that likely harkened back to WWII days that was so blunt and worn down, and with a blade that curved upwards like the back of a stretching cat. A rusty fridge. A lightbulb hanging by an extension cord that ran out the propped open tin window and into the main house. An old 1960′s rejected office desk with rocks for feet that slanted sideways and made my soup run for one corner of the bowl. Her kitchen smelled of the jungle, and savory meats, and wild chickens – and mosquitos ate me up every time I sat to a meal.

My nana’s kitchen was my heaven.

Growing up with a nana that cooked for me, though, meant that I never was really ‘taught’ anything. I watched. I asked questions about dishes as I got older. But my ‘cooking’ was never more than opening a can of green beans that I’d eat straight with a fork.

Fast forward to today.

I don’t have my nana anymore… but, what I do have is her heart.

My nana’s heart was always to serve and comfort through her food. She cooked to lure you into conversation over a perfectly percolated cup of coffee and inch-thick pancakes or handmade tortillas. She cooked to care for you and to love you – to show you she was thinking of you. She cooked to wow you with what she could do with a small piece of chicken and some vegetables out of her garden – and to hear you say, “Thanks, nana, that was delicious. I love you.”

So, I cook… and, when I do, I take pleasure in creating things like this:

Mushroom and Black Olive Goat Cheese Galette

Believe it or not, this amazingly beautiful galette (tart) is sooo easy, so delicious… and soo worth the effort when you see how others respond to this work of art.

Here’s the recipe… but you have to promise: you’ll give it your heart and give it a try whether you were ‘raised to cook’, or not.

For the crust:
The crust is a very basic everyday galette crust and will make TWO galette crusts:

2.5 cups flour
1 TBSP sugar
1 tsp salt
2 sticks (1 cup) butter, chilled and cut into 1/2 inch cubes
10-14 TBSP ice water

Using a food processor, pulse the flour, sugar, and salt several times until mixed well.
Add the cubed butter and pulse 8-10 times. (NOTE: DO NOT OVERPULSE. The key to having a flaky pastry crust is making sure the butter (the fats) remain about pea-sized.)
Slowly add the water about 2 TBSP at a time and pulse once or twice after each addition. The dough should begin to clump, but will still be very dry in the bowl of the processor.
Pour the mixture into a large bowl and begin lightly kneading the mixture until it all begins to stick together. (If it is still too dry, drizzle a little more water (about a tsp at a time) into it and toss the mixture with a fork. You want the dough to be sticky enough to adhere together without crumbling, but you don’t want it to be wet. Also, do not over-knead.)
Form two discs out of the mixture, sprinkle flour over the discs, and wrap in plastic. Chill in the fridge for at least 30 minutes prior to using. (If you won’t be using both, you can freeze the extra one for later.)

At this point, preheat your oven to 425 with the rack in the center of the oven, and place a cookie sheet on the rack to heat along with the oven.

For the filling:

EVOO for pan
1 large shallot, finely diced
3 cloves of garlic, diced and mashed
1 TBSP capers
16-20 small white and brown mushrooms, washed and sliced
2/3 can black olives, crushed (NOTE: I drain the olive can and then I pour the olives right into my hand over the pan and crush the olives between my fingertips as I drop them in to cook)
Salt and pepper to taste
Goat cheese
A handful of cherry tomatoes, washed and sliced in quarters
Fresh arugula (see blow)

Up close…

Sauté all ingredients until mushrooms are tender. Turn off heat and set aside.
On floured surface, roll out one of the disks until the dough is about a 12″ diameter and 1/4″ thick.
Spoon your mushroom mixture into the center of the disc leaving approximately 2-3″ of space around the outside of the filling. (You might have a little filling left over – and it’s delicious right out of the pan.)
Sprinkle your diced cherry tomato pieces and crumble goat cheese over the whole thing.
Fold the outer edges of the dough over the filling in an accordion fashion to slightly cover the edge of the filling. Wash the exposed dough with egg wash (basically an egg with a drizzle of water, whisked until light).
Here is where you might need some help – and you will definitely need patience: Remove the pre-heated cookie sheet from the oven and place it beside your prepared galette. Carefully, using an extra wide spatula and your hands, gently lift the galette onto the hot pan. (NOTE: The key is to support the bottom of the galette as securely as possible so that it doesn’t fall through when you move it. It’s okay if it looses some of it’s shape – just reshape it as best you can when it hits the hot pan.)
Cook for 20-25 minutes, or until nicely browned. Toss some fresh arugula with a light drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar and spread across the top of the warm galette before serving.

That’s it! When I serve it I cut it in four quarters, and then each quarter into a quarter (like a pizza). It’s a great appetizer – and definitely a perfect ‘wow’ dish to take to a potluck.

Now… go cook with some heart! And, nana: I’m thinking of you today…

My nana – dish towel on her shoulder as she shooed me to the kitchen to eat

Rebel on,
Elisha

SO DO NOT FEAR, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you;

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

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“Everything is permissible,” but not everything is helpful. “Everything is permissible,” but not everything builds up.

1 Corinthians 10:23

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Whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will [her]self be watered.

Proverbs 11:25

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