Kids Ask a Lot of Questions

A quick note from a recent flight.

I recently flew a dad and his two kids on a 50-minute flight in the Wickenburg area. The kids were aged maybe 8 (the boy) and 10 (the girl). These are estimates. I didn’t ask and since I’m not a parent myself, I could be way off.

My helicopter has a voice-activated intercom system. That means that anything anyone says into their headset microphone can be heard by anyone else in the aircraft wearing a headset. (And yes, I do have an isolation switch I can use to “turn off” my passengers, but I rarely use it.) I narrated the flight, as I usually do, and pointed out interesting things.

Now I’ve flown kids before, but these kids were different. They asked a lot of questions. A lot. In fact, they pretty much never stopped asking questions.

I have no problem with this. It’s great to see kids who are interested in what’s going on around them. And it sure beats the kid who almost fell asleep on one of my Grand Canyon flights years ago.

Since I don’t have kids, however, it was a bit startling to me. It made me realize the limits of a young kid’s knowledge. For example, they repeatedly asked me to define words I’d used — irrigation and skeleton crew come to mind. They asked a lot of “why” and “how” questions. It was a real eye-opening experience for me. It was also a pleasure to be in the position where I could share some of my knowledge with them.

But the part I liked most was defining those terms I’d used without a second thought, bringing my vocabulary down to a level they’d understand and perhaps teaching them a few new words and concepts.

The Kids and the Chickens

I went down to the horse corral to shovel last night’s horse poop — an important part of my exercise routine — and brought my MacBook Pro and iSight camera with me to do a quick video of the chickens. They’re 2 months old now and starting to look a lot more like full-grown chickens. I expect to start getting eggs in 2 to 3 months.

Anyway, two of my neighbor’s kids saw me heading down to the coop and came over to see what I was up to. So I recorded them, too. I get a kick out of some of the things kids say, probably because I’ve never had kids and I don’t have to listen to them all the time. I assume these two boys are typical for their age.

The chickens make their appearance in the second half of the video, although you can hear them in the background throughout.

Pastina

Comfort food from my childhood.

I find that the older I get, the more I look back with fond memories on certain aspects of my childhood. And since eating has always been high on my list of life priorities, it’s no wonder that I think back about food.

Last month, Mike and I went to the New York City area where I grew up to be tourists and spend Thanksgiving with our families. I took the opportunity to buy some of the foods I enjoyed as a kid that simply don’t seem to be available in Arizona.

PastinaOne of these is Pastina. I bought two boxes of Barilla Pastina, which is the only one I could find. (I think we used to buy Ronzoni.) The Barilla Web site, where I found this nice box shot, has a good description:

There are few children in Italy who do not grow up eating Pastina, the classic tiny pasta stars that parents first serve as a child’s introduction to the delicious world of pasta. Here in America, parents choose Barilla Pastina for their young children because it is made from 100% highest quality durum wheat; is enriched with essential nutrients, such as thiamin, iron, riboflavin and niacin; and is easily digested. And grown-ups love the deliciously nutty flavor of Barilla Pastina, too, especially in soups and simple broths.

When they say “tiny,” they’re not kidding. Pastina makes rice look huge.

We ate Pastina for breakfast many times, usually at my grandmother’s house after a sleepover. My mother’s mother was second-generation Italian; her parents had come to New York with the wave of Italian immigrants in the early 1900s. My mother was born in the Bronx and lived in a true Italian neighborhood until she was 8, when my grandparents moved to northern New Jersey. The Italian influence was pretty heavy on that side of my family, although my mother was fully Americanized. Her brother, who was 16 when they made the move, stayed more Italian. He married a second-generation Italian woman who tried hard to keep the family as Italian as possible throughout the subsequent years.

I’m the product of a third generation Italian mother and second generation German father. I don’t consider myself either nationality; I’m American — whatever that really means.

Back to Pastina. When my grandparents made Pastina, they didn’t follow package directions, which called for the usual boiling and straining of the pasta. Instead, they used far less water and let the tiny pasta soak it all up in cooking. Then, before cooking was done, they dropped a raw egg into the pot and stirred the mixture until the egg was cooked. They served it in bowls with butter. I’m not sure if this is how everyone served Pastina to kids, but it’s the way we had it.

My grandparents are gone now, so I couldn’t call them for a recipe. Instead, I sort of winged it. What I came up with works and is very tasty. Here’s the recipe/instructions for one serving:

Ingredients:

  • 1/3 cup Pastina
  • 2/3 cup water
  • 1 Tbsp butter
  • 1 egg
  • salt and pepper to taste

Cooking Instructions:

  1. Combine Pastina and water in a large, deep bowl.
  2. Cook on high in microwave for 2 minutes.
  3. Stir, add butter.
  4. Return to microwave and cook on high 1 minute.
  5. Stir, break egg into mixture and stir again to scramble and mix it in.
  6. Return to microwave and cook on high 1 minute.
  7. Stir one more time.
  8. Return to microwave and cook on high 1 more minute.
  9. Add salt and pepper to taste and serve.

Please keep in mind that my microwave is 21 years old. I think it’s only 700 watts. So you might have to adjust the cooking times shown here.

After about 3 minutes of cooking, the Pastina should have soaked up most of the water and be tender. (Remember, this pasta is really tiny.) The last two minutes are primarily to cook the egg.

I really like this — it’s true comfort food. If you give it a try or have had it in the past, please share your comments about it here. Use the Comments link or form for this post. I’d love to hear from you — especially if you grew up in an Italian household and enjoyed this for breakfast, as I did.