By request

Iris woke up and I reminded her that she was going to the babysitter this morning.

**Iris:** What are you going to do?

**Me:** I’m going to do some shopping at QFC and probably write something on my baby computer.

**Iris:** You should write something for your blog about me eating burgers.

No problem! The other night we had burgers and Iris unveiled a new technique wherein she separated the patty from the bun, ate the bun, and then picked up the patty and took huge bites.

I believe this is how Kobayashi eats his burgers.

A conversation after dinner

*Iris plays with her helicopter toy.*

**Me:** The chopper is landing.

**Iris:** What’s a chopper?

**Me:** It’s another word for helicopter.

**Iris:** Like a loud one?

**Me:** Yes, because it goes *chop-chop-chop.*

**Iris:** Like an onion?

The littlest meatball

The other night, after Ants on a Tree, we had some leftover Samish Bay ground pork. Only half a pound, though. Not enough for a reasonable quantity of larb. Spaghetti and meatballs seemed like the way to go.

Here’s what I know about meatballs. The less meat you put in them, the better they are. Fillers have a bad name, but they are what makes a meatball great. A meatball without fillers is a puck.

So here’s what I did. I make a scary-looking mush with crustless white bread, yogurt, milk, salt, pepper, oregano, and Parmigiano-Reggiano. (I got the idea of mashing bread with milk from Cook’s Illustrated.) Minced garlic or onion could be good here, too, but I didn’t use any. Then I started spooning the slurry into the pork and stirring it up. I didn’t end up using all of the slurry, but it was more than I expected. You want to put in enough so that the meatballs will hold their shape, but just barely. I made miniature meatballs, about an inch in diameter.

I browned the meatballs in olive oil, drained them, and finished simmering them in tomato sauce. With spaghetti, it was the perfect amount for the three of us, and Iris ate numerous meatballs. First, though, she looked at her plate, where I had carefully cut a meatball into bites for her, and said, “But where is my meatball?” She sounded just like Frances.

Yes, we know, you are perfectly capable of taking apart your own meatball.

Saute of the day

In the kitchen, my motto is:

*When in doubt, saute it.*

It’s not that I’m prejudiced against frying, steaming, microwaving, roasting, or braising. Okay, I am prejudiced against steaming. But sauteing just feels the most like cooking. There’s no good reason for this–it’s not like it’s the primal form of cooking, although imagining cavepeople trying to cram hunks of mastodon carcass into 10-inch All-Clad skillets on their camp stoves is pretty funny. Probably it’s overexposure to cooking shows.

Anyway, my esteem for sauteing goes double when vegetables are involved. Most good vegetable preparations start with a little butter and a little browning. Really good ones start with a lot of butter and a lot of browning. Olive oil is good, too.

Here’s what I made tonight to go with burgers.

**Sauteed Fennel and Radicchio**

Heat some butter and olive oil in a skillet over medium-high. Add peeled and quartered shallots and a handful of sliced fennel. Season with salt, pepper, and dried thyme (an herb that I reflexively couple with fennel ever since Cousin Wendy made it that way a few years ago). I wanted red onions rather than shallots, but the red onion I brought home turned out to be moldy as hell. Cook a few minutes, until the vegetables are getting nicely browned. Add a head of sliced radicchio and another sprinkle of salt. Continue cooking until the radicchio is good and wilted. Turn off the heat, cover, and let sit and soften up for a couple of minutes before serving.