I’ve been a fan of Kelsey Banfield’s blog for quite a while. What sold me on her recipes was how approachable and accessible they are. The fact that she makes the prep and cook time fit into a busy family’s schedule is really icing on the cake. And, what sold me on Kelsey herself is that she’s a warm and beautiful person. The only downside to Kelsey is that she lives so far away from me.

Kelsey’s new book,The Naptime Chef: Fitting Great Food into Family Life, has just hit the market. When her publisher, Running Press, offered to send me copy to review, I jumped at the chance. Not only do I have an unhealthy addiction to new cookbooks, but I adore Kelsey, and her book has been on my must-acquire list since I first learned she would be writing it.

The first recipe I tested was the recipe for herbs de provence popovers. I’ve never made popovers before, and I loved that the recipe didn’t require me to go out and buy a special pan to make them in.

Popovers are a beautiful thing, really. The billowy tops almost beg to have a finger poked in them, but I resisted. The popovers were loaded with herbs de provence, and the savory aroma that filled the house as they baked was intoxicating.

For lunch one day, I tried the recipe for couscous salad with blue cheese and dried cranberries. I’m trying to take my lunch to work more often, and these are the kinds of salads I look for. Couscous is simple to prepare, and with the addition of a light vinaigrette and the sweet and salty add-ins of pecans, blue cheese, and dried cranberries, this is one beautiful salad. It can be made ahead, perfect for that dreaded Sunday night weekday-lunch-prep-time.

The Naptime Chef is an empowering cookbook for parents, especially new parents who are struggling to find a way to eat well while working around a little one’s schedule. In fact, this is a great book to give to a new mom or dad – it would make a wonderful baby shower gift.  It’s not comprehensive, but it’s not meant to be. Kelsey’s book is just meant to show you that eating well while raising children can be done.

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the giveaway

Running Press was gracious enough to allow me to give a copy of Kelsey’s book to one of my readers, so here’s your chance to get the book in your own warm little hands.

to enter:

It’s very simple to enter — no hoops to jump through. And, while I would love it if you followed me on twitter and liked my Facebook page, it is by no means a requirement.

Since the theme of this book is all about fitting wonderful meals into a busy family life, all you have to do is leave me a comment on this post with the answer to this question:

What is your favorite weeknight meal to serve your family, and how do you fit it in your schedule?

the fine print:

I’ll close comments on Thursday, March 15 at 5pm EST, and I’ll randomly select a winner from the comments. Please, only one comment per person, and you must live in the US or Canada to win the giveaway.

Don’t want to wait for the giveaway to end? Buy The Naptime Chef right now.

*   *   *   UPDATE!   *   *   *

Time’s up and the winner of this wonderful cookbook goes to…

Congratulations, Flavia! I’m sure you’ll enjoy Kelsey’s book as much as I’m enjoying it. I love the dinner suggestion, too. It sounds like exactly what I’d love to eat right this very minute, in fact.

The annual carnival at my daughter’s elementary school was this weekend, heralded by a two-week onslaught of fundraising forms and letters, requests for silent auction donations, treasure box prizes, volunteers, and cakes for the cake walk. I did my best to tune out all the notices flying at me, by way of email and the weekly homework folder, but when Madeline begged me to please, please donate a cake, I had a hard time telling her no.

The deadline was Friday morning by 10am, and of course, I didn’t commit to bringing one until mid-week last week. A couple of hectic days at work and late meetings – and, let’s face it, apathy – kept me from doing what I needed to do to get that cake baked. So, hanging my head in shame, I dropped Maddie off at school on Friday morning with a cake box from Publix, a little ladybug cake with red and black frosting – made by the grocery store bakers – nestled inside. I know, I know. How could I?

Truthfully, I didn’t expect to admit my slacker-parenting out loud to anyone, especially any one who knows how much I adore cooking. But, the guilt has been tugging at me, so I needed to get it out there.

The carnival was better than last year – more organized, and with great volunteers running the games and activities smoothly. No thanks to me, of course. I ignored those volunteer request forms.

What drew my daughter’s attention, naturally, was the cake walk. The essence of the game is that twenty people, kids or adults, played a sort of musical chairs. The chairs were numbered, and whatever number you happened to be sitting on when the music stopped was your number. The leaders of the game called out three or four numbers at random, and if your number was called, you won a cake. They played the music three times with each group of people, and at least 6 out of the 20 contestants won cakes, getting to choose their prize off the cake-laden table in the back of the room.

Madeline insisted we play, so we did.  After the first losing round, her competitive nature kicked in, and she demanded we go back to the end of the line and try again. After the second losing round, she was in tears. I promised to bake a special cake at home, and I reassured her that my cake would be better than that store-bought Publix cake she was so hoping to win back. Oliver seemed happy with that plan, but it didn’t have a real effect on Maddie. Sam and Madeline lined up for a third try at the cake walk while Oliver and I got snow cones.

The third try was definitely not the charm. No cake prize.

I’m not sure how we got over the devastation of losing the cake walk game three times, but thankfully, we did. Since then, though, all I’ve heard is that the cake walk is not a fair game. It’s clearly rigged.

When we got home Saturday afternoon, I started baking this lemon layer cake. I did it in part to soothe my daughter’s soul, hoping to make up for the sense of injustice that she felt. And I also did it for me, to assuage my guilt for having sent my daughter to school with a store-bought cake. A store-bought cake that stood out like a sore thumb on that cake table in the classroom where the cake walk was held.

Madeline feels better today. I do too. Amazing what a slice of cake will do to improve one’s mood.

Last Saturday, after scouring cookbooks and my latest food magazine issues, I decided to cook a meal from Lisa Fain’s The Homesick Texan Cookbook. Normally I plan my time better, but we’d spent longer than we expected at the local arts festival with the kids, so I was late getting started and my timing was off. I chopped and prepped and cooked for about 2 hours before the meal was finished. It didn’t help that my blender decided to misbehave each time I used it – all three times. [I’m kicking myself for not splurging on that Vitamix.]

I was so proud of our meal – starring chicken enchiladas with sour cream sauce and refried beans, all made from scratch – and was looking forward to getting off my feet and enjoying it with my family. And that’s when my 5 year old, Oliver, declared that he HATED the enchiladas (without tasting them, mind you) and pushed his enchilada right off of his plate.

Some time ago, I might have caved, gotten up from the table, and made him a hot dog, but not that night. Not now. After informing him – not so gently – that his rudeness was not going to cut it at my dinner table, and with him in tears afterwards, he had a meal of refried beans alone. He never did try that enchilada, and I’m okay with that. We’re both pretty stubborn, but I can win at the stubborn game. I refused – and still refuse – to make him something else when I’ve worked hard to prepare a meal for the family. He’ll eat what I place before him, or he won’t eat.

We went through a similar phase with Madeline when she was younger. She’s eight now, and she’ll try anything at all that I put in front of her. I never make her eat every bit of food on her plate. My only expectation is that she tries a bite, to see if she likes it. And almost all of the time, she does. She’s become my adventurous eater, and it’s one of the many things I love about my firstborn.

I know that Oliver will eventually move on from this defiant stage. I’m certainly ready for it to happen. It can’t come too soon.

The one food that Oliver has always liked – that both of my kids have loved from the beginning – is sweet potatoes. But, really, who doesn’t like sweet potatoes? After the enchilada incident, I made these mashed sweet potatoes for us the next night. The dish was a treat, and it was one we all deserved after sitting through that awkward meal the night before.