Croissants au Jambon

There's no better way to spend a Saturday than in the kitchen leisurely cooking from breakfast to dinner (and maybe even dessert).  Generally, on a late summer Saturday like today I split my time between the kitchen and the garden.  I weed and water, then return to the kitchen with an arm load of vegetables to check on a simmering pot or a loaf of baking bread.  It's my absolute favorite way to spend the day; and it's what I plan to do today.  But first I'm going to surprise my kids with one of their favorite lunches!

Croissants au Jambon

1 sheet of frozen puff pastry dough (I use Pepperidge Farm because there are no peanut/tree nut allergens listed)

6 thin slices of ham (maple ham is even better, if you can find it!)

6 thin slices of Gruyere cheese ( if you can't find it, use Swiss)

2 Tbsp maple syrup

About an hour before lunch time, set the puff pastry dough out on the counter to thaw.  When it's thawed, preheat you oven to 375 and line a baking pan with parchment paper.  Flour your work surface, dough, and rolling pin, and roll the dough into a rectangle that's approximately 10 inches by 12 inches.  Cut the pastry dough in half lenghtwise; then cut each half into thirds so you have six rectangles.  Brush each rectangle with maple syrup.  Top each with one slice of ham and one slice of cheese.  Roll each rectangle diagonally along the length from corner to corner to form a croissant.  Place them on the baking sheet and brush lightly with the rest of the maple syrup. 

Bake for 18 - 22 minutes, until golden brown and flakey.  Cool about five minutes (if you can wait).

I hope you enjoy them as much as my kids do!  Bon appetit!

P.S.  I need your help deciding on a name for this blog.  Please let me know what you think.

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The Sunday Evening Squirrel

I'm a mommy first and foremost, and being such I absolutely cannot stand by and watch a baby die . . . Even if it is "just a baby squirrel."  I found my self in this situation yesterday evening.  We were having a family get together, and we were all out in the front yard eating fresh, hand-churned ice cream, when out of our tree fell a newborn squirrel, right onto the street below!  We picked him up - all hairless and squirming.  He was no bigger than a gerbil; his eyes still tightly shut.   This guy was a fighter, though, so I ran inside to find a small box and an old towel.

What to do with this little guy?  No one could take him home and care for him.  Least of all me - with my house full of slobbering predators.  As much as I'd love to nurse him back to health, it just wasn't possible.  He'd quickly become a snack for our puppy, Natasha, who's already brought me two slimy birds in an attempt to negate all the mischief she's caused.  (They were not accepted.)

I headed to the Internet, trying to find someone who could help this little one.  One site said:  If you find a baby mammal, place it in a shallow box near where you found it and wait to see if the mother returns.  I did just that.  If the mother hasn't returned within six hours, call a rehabilitator.

I left the open box at the base of the tree over night, and I was sick with worry about it.  I woke up several times thinking about him - a completely helpless baby left alone to the night.  I prayed that if there was a way that this baby could survive, God would show me.  If not, I prayed that He would take the squirrel in the night, painlessly.  I was sure the baby would be gone in the morning.

In my neighborhood, teeming with stray cats and dogs, foxes, coyotes, and owls, it's a miracle that the next morning I found him curled up under the towel in the corner of his box, still very much alive.  When I came back into the house my little five year old looked up from his breakfast and asked, "Mom, did the mommy come back and get that thing we put in the box last night?"

"No, Sweetie.  He's still there."

"Ohhh . . . Now what do we do?" he asked, sky blue eyes filled with concern and compassion.

What was I going to tell him?  Well, since the mommy didn't come back we're just going to let him starve to death or be eaten alive by ants.  I don't think so!

"I'll figure something out, Buddy."  I said, immediately switching into mommy-on-a-mission mode.

In a city this size someone has to be able to help!  I began researching Wildlife Rehabilitation Organizations.  There were two in my county.  I called both; left messages with both.  The answering machine of one informed me that there were not enough volunteers to take my call.  How sad!  I emailed both organizations and waited for a response.  What else could I do??  I was feeling more and more helpless as the morning went on.  I checked with the Department of Wildlife.  They don't handle squirrels.

Apparently, these creatures are considered pests.  One less squirrel to deal with is a welcome idea, is it not?  Not to me!  I happen to love our enormous squirrel population.  I can spend hours watching them chase eachother around my backyard.  In fact, I watched the mama squirrel build the very nest that this baby fell out of, twenty feet up in my tree.  And I watched her guard her nest and willfully chase away any other intruding squirrel.  I even tolerate their habit of burying whole peanuts in my yard, which are eagerly dug up and eaten by Natasha before my little girl can get her hands on them and have an allergic reaction.  You know, they say squirrels are as smart as dogs, and they can be trained as such.  So, was this tiny life really worth saving?  After all, it was "just a squirrel."  And had I exhausted all my options?  Was there anything else I could do?

Facebook!  It occurred to me five minutes before I had to take my son to Kindergarten.  Everyone's on Facebook, right?  I quickly searched to see if  Wild Forever had a Facebook page.  I have a good feeling about these people!  They do!  I quickly type a message on their wall, leave the squirrel at the base of the tree, and rush my son off to school.

When I get home there's a response waiting for me!  It's the president of the foundation.  "Call me directly," and a personal phone number.  Finally there's hope!  I check on the baby and after making sure that he's STILL alive in his little box, I quickly dial the number.

The kind man puts me in touch with a local "Squirrel Rehabilitator" - who knew such a thing existed?  And it turns out that she's just a few miles away from my home!  Does God answer prayers, or what?!  I gratefully place my little baby into her loving care.

I have high hopes for this little one.  When he's ready, he'll be released into the very same tree he fell out of!

When I picked up my son this afternoon he asked his standard question: "What did you do while I was in school?"

You can't imagine my joy when I told him that I took the baby squirrel to someone who would be his mommy until he was old enough to go back to his tree.

"Oh, that's good."  he simply said, and squeezed his mommy's hand a little tighter as we walked across the parking lot to the car.  Mission accomplished.

"It's just a baby squirrel," right?  It's not our place to put a value on a life.  That's God's job.  It's our responsibility to teach our children to value every single life, no matter how small.  They are totally worth it!

Thank you so much to the folks at the Wild Forever Foundation for caring for the ones that no one cares about.  And thank you to Anita, our squirrel rehabilitator, for spending her own time and money caring for this precious baby - rejected but so full of life!

Peanuts and Puppies

Meet Natasha -  Our wild and crazy ball of energy who's been tearing up our furniture, clothes, and toys since the moment we first brought her home!  She exudes mischief.  Can you see it in her eyes?  Anyway, the kids were SO excited to get a new puppy, so a few days before she came home we made a special trip to PETCO to get everything she could ever possibly need or want.

First, we loaded up on toys; and as I was deciding on which type of KONG she would like (Original, Genius, or Puppy), my  little Eva was gleefully spinning the KONG display round and round.  PLOP . . . Something flew off the twirling display and landed a few feet away.  As Eva reached down to retrieve the run-away item I looked over and realized it was an envelope of peanut butter KONG stuffer!  WHAT?  Who knew?  I quickly grabbed to package before my daughter could lay her precious little fingers on it.  We left the KONGS for safer territory.

We picked out a pink collar and some puppy food, and then headed for the treats.  Do you know what we found?  Peanut Butter Soft and Chewy treats, Organic Peanut Butter Morsels, Mini-Bones with Real Peanut Butter, Peanut Butter Nutri-Bits . . .  REALLY?  Since when did dogs develop a taste for peanut butter??  I grabbed a bag of Milk Bones and whisked my children away to the safety of the check-out line. 

In front of us there was a great big, shaggy dog that Eva just loved waiting for his owner to pay for his food.  "Look at doggy, Mommy!  BBBBig Dog!!"  She said over and over.  We all admired this dog, and became so enthralled with him that I nearly forgot about all of the peanut encounters this trip . . .

RULE # 1:  Always remain vigilant.

The contents of our cart made it obvious to the cashier that we were getting a new puppy.  "Here's a treat to feed to your little puppy when you get home," she said sweetly, pressing a bone into Eva's tiny, outstretched hand.

"Oh, thank you," I replied absently.

"Just don't you eat it," she warned.

SNAP!  Instant panic!

"Is it made with peanuts?"  I shrieked like a lunatic, suddenly recalling our trip down the treat aisle.

"Oh . . . Yes.  I think this is the peanut butter flavored one," she said alarmed.

"Eva, drop it!" I screamed, causing a huge scene.  The treat fell to the floor along with the contents of my pures as I frantically search for the hand sanitizer.  Next came the baby wipes to wipe off any last trace of peanut protein left on Eva's poor little hand.  I know if I don't get it all she'll break out in hives.  And if she happens to put her fingers in her mouth . . .

Half the store is watching by this time.  "She has a peanut allergy," I sheepishly explain to my audience.  I'm answered by grunts, a couple of "Ohhh"s, and many rolled eyes as the on-lookers disperse.   Did I overreact?  You can't be too careful, right?

My Story

photo by Melissa Youngs

Updated 11-03-12

Welcome!  I'm Rebecca, and I hope you'll be inspired by what you find here on Pure & Peanut Free!

When I started this blog it was with the intent to share the copious amounts of information that I, as a mother of two newly diagnosed food allergic children (peanuts, tree nuts, shellfish, and melon), was sorting through, processing, and incorporating into our family's life.  As you all well know, information overload is a common problem when searching the Internet in the hopes of helping your sick children.  I needed a way to organize it all. 

However, over time this blog has evolved into something much greater.  It's my kitchen journal, fueled by a passion for cooking that simply cannot be quenched.  I hope to share some of that love with you as I strive to make Pure and Peanut Free a place of peace and tranquility for everyone, whether you struggle through the tricky world of food allergies or not. 

I learned to cook early in the kitchens of my childhood.  My grandmother, a fiercely proud Irish woman and depression era survivor, could literally make something out of nothing.  Though her refrigerator was often empty, she never failed to present us with the most elaborate of feasts every Sunday afternoon.  Nothing was wasted in her kitchen; what scraps remained went straight into her steaming stock pot, nourishing her family throughout the week.  My mother, a fantastic gardener and advocate for all things organic, wholesome, and natural even before it was trendy or popular, instilled in me an obsession with healthy food.  Growing up, our vegetables and fruit were always homegrown and organic.  Harvest time buzzed with excitement, as my brother and I were given the very important jobs of pulling carrots and snapping green beans in preparation to be canned or frozen for the winter months.

My cooking style matured in my twenties.  I was living in Italy amidst the most amazing street markets and the freshest ingredients in the world.  A culinary playground and I pushed the limits.  Cooking with ingredients that were very foreign to me at the time, I developed an intense love affair with authentic foods, and a deep and humble respect for the people who pour their life and soul into producing them.  My cooking will always be heavy influenced by my precious time in Tuscany.

My thoughts are ever revolving around food.  Having children with food allergies, how can they not?  I go to bed dreaming about breakfast.  I eat lunch while planning dinner.  Most of the recipes you'll find here are original, but when I adapt or am inspired by a recipe, I'll certainly quote the source.  I love to seek out authentic, sustainable, and local (whenever possible) ingredients.  But I also attempt to make my recipes accessible to everyone, so I try to provide plenty of substitutions for ingredients which may not be common or available to everyone.

I strive to broaden my children's palates at every meal, and despite their allergies they are developing quite sophisticated tastes.  Children with food allergies often become "stuck in a rut" regarding their food choices, though there is a world of beautiful, safe food out there just waiting to be discovered.  It's up to us to introduce our children to this world . . . .

Come join me on this journey.  I truly value your comments and your thoughts on each post.  If you'd like to contact me privately or if you'd like to work together on a project (I enjoy writing guest posts and freelance articles), or if you're interested in advertising on this site you can contact me here.

Thank you all for spending just a bit of your day with me!

The following is my original introduction and the story of how we first discovered that my daughter was allergic to peanuts . . .

photo by Melissa Youngs

I'm a travelholic and a foodie.  I've always considered myself a bit of a gypsy - a traveler, a nomad.  Neither my wanderlust nor my appetite can be quenched.  I've always traveled, even as a child, and I never gave a thought to what I ate along the way. 

The first thing I did after graduating from High School was move to Italy.  In fact, I've always felt as if I'd grown up in Tuscany.  It was my very first home-away-from-home, and a piece of my heart will always live in those beautiful vineyards, olive groves, and eternal sunflower fields.  I traveled up and down Italy - from Rome to Florence to Milan - eating at every Trattoria and Ristorante I could manage.  Even after moving back to the States I'd travel at the drop of a hat.  Chicago one weekend, New Orleans the next.  I feasted on airline peanuts and pretzels to my heart's content.

All that changed after I had my second child.  As a baby, my beautiful Eve battled horrible eczema.  I had no idea what was causing it, and her doctor thought it was baby acne or a reaction to milk.  It came and went for the first year of her life.  Then one day when she was 14 months old we went to a friends house.  She had an oatmeal cookie and her brother had a peanut butter one.  They shared a plate.  She accidentally ate a piece - no more than a crumb - of her brother's cookie.  She started coughing, choking, and swelling.  There was nothing I could do for her.  Honestly, I didn't even know what was going on.  My vibrant baby girl was dying before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop this.  I was helpless.  For the first time in my life I was completely helpless.  I still have nightmares . . . Thank God she recovered!

When Eve was diagnosed with a severe peanut allergy, my first thought was My baby will never be able to travel!  She'll never be able to see the world!  This was completely devastating!  Travel and food were such a huge part of our lives.  I had dreams of taking my children back to Italy.  We had plans to explore Thailand.  I wanted to visit a friend in Tanzania, and let my children experience a third world country.  All my hopes and dreams were blown away the day Eve went into anaphylactic shock . . .

It took me nearly a year to realize that I don't have to give up all the dreams.  My baby doesn't have to be a prisoner in her own home.  I won't let her become one!  She will travel and she will explore the world - and I will keep her safe.  Come join us on this journey.

After Eve was diagnosed, my son, Connor, was tested for food allergies.  We found that he is allergic to melon and shellfish.  His reactions have not been as severe as his sister's, however, with food allergies the severity gets progressively worse with each exposure.  We currently do not eat any peanuts, tree nuts, shell fish, melon (except watermelon, which he loves!), or papaya (because I'm allergic to latex).  This blog is part cookbook, part travelogue, part personal diary.  I hope to provide tips and information, but most of all encouragement.  I'll share some of our favorite recipes, along with our laughter and maybe some tears, as we navigate through a life with food allergies.

photo by Melissa Youngs