Whole Family Cookbook Review & Giveaway (recipe: A-B-C Frittata)
Every so often you meet a person with whom you see eye to eye on many important topics. Thanks to online connections, these encounters happen more and more frequently. Michelle of What’s Cooking with Kids is one of those friends. Even though we have never met, her philosophy and well-researched posts often have me nodding my head in agreement and occasionally giving her a virtual high-five.
Michelle recently penned “The Whole Family Cookbook
” and I knew from the onset that this was going to be a resource I could get behind. Without question, Michelle is an expert in her field of teaching children to cook and instilling a healthy food culture in a new generation.
The Whole Family Cookbook lives up to its reputation with the tagline – Celebrating the Goodness of Locally Grown Food. With gorgeous photos and over seventy-five creative recipes, it grabs our attention instantly and practically cajoles us into the kitchen – with kids in tow.
Kids in the kitchen is yet another topic Michelle and I agree on! The first chapter of the book, Raising Young Locavores, dives headfirst into this topic, where Michelle’s passion shines through beautifully. She gives her expert tips on engaging children of all ages in the kitchen – right down to the toddler.
And then there are recipes! Creative, organic, and family-friendly, Michelle’s recipes focus on sustainable ingredients and simple techniques. My favorite section – Mom Approved Treats – has got so many fun treats, we’ll be busy cooking from it for a while!
Handy tips, solid environmental practices and good plain fun is just a sample of what you’ll find in The Whole Family Cookbook.
It’s a cookbook for the modern, eco-conscious family that enjoys the simple pleasures of home cooking.
Recipe: ABC Frittata (Apple, Bacon, Cheddar)
Our boys enjoyed this with whole grain toast; Danny and I preferred ours on a bed of lightly dressed baby arugula. A perfect plate for brunch, lunch or a light dinner.
Serves 4
Ingredients:
- 2 egg whites
- 8 whole eggs
- 1 cup cheddar cheese, grated
- Salt, to taste
- 3 slices bacon
- Ground Pepper, to taste
- 2 apples, Fuji or Gala
- 1 Tablespoon butter
method:
Put the rack in the upper third of the oven. Preheat oven to 450°F.
Crack the eggs, one at a time, over a small bowl. After checking for stray shells, pour each egg into a medium bowl. To separate the egg whites, crack the egg over an egg separator or someone’s clean hands. Carefully let the egg white slip through the fingers into the bowl, with the yolk remaining. Discard the yolk or save for another recipe. Using a whisk, beat the eggs until the yolks and whites are thoroughly combined.
Grate the cheese. Younger children can help you use a rotary cheese grater (which protects their skin). Older children can use a box grater. Add half of the grated cheese to the egg mixture and stir to combine. Add a pinch of salt and pepper, to your liking.
Cook the strips of bacon. You can fry them in a skillet (watch out! They can splatter.) Or, you can bake them in the oven on a cooling rack over a rimmed baking sheet. We like this method because we don’t have to turn the bacon over and the kids stay safe.
Once the bacon cools, crumble the strips with clean hands. Use a vegetable peeler to peel the apple. If you have an apple corer, you may use it. Or, simply cut up the apple, leaving the core behind. Slice the apple pieces very thinly. As you are cutting, be sure to put the flat side of the apple pieces down, so the chunks don’t wobble on your cutting board.
In a medium cast-iron or nonstick ovenproof skillet, heat the butter over medium heat. Add egg mixture to the skillet. Sprinkle the bacon crumbles evenly over the eggs. Gently arrange the apples on top of the egg mixture, in a circular pattern. Sprinkle with remaining cheese.
Move the skillet from the stovetop to the upper rack of your oven. Bake until frittata is firm in the center and cheese is browned, about 20 minutes. Use a flexible spatula to loosen the frittata from the pan. Carefully slide it onto a cutting board. Allow to cool for a few minutes before slicing into wedges.
Recipe from The Whole Family Cookbook, Used with permission, of course.
My first memory is making scrambled eggs with my grandmother.
My first kitchen memory is making cookies with my mom!
Gathering vegetables from the garden to go in that night’s dinner.
My mother NEVER let my sister and me into the kitchen when she was cooking, EVER. However, once a year we got to decorate Christmas cookies and she actually let us put the cookie cutters in the dough and trace around our hands in the cookie dough, which was an exciting event for us! Now my mother invites my three kids into the kitchen to cook with her every time we visit, and I always rush to grab the camera to document all their kitchen adventures with Nana. This past summer my mother apologized for always shooing me away from the kitchen, but she said, “At least we had Christmas cookies.”
Making oatmeal cookies with my grandma and putting in tablespoon of salt instead of a teaspoon. We didn’t realize it until we started eating.
My first kitchen memory would be making Easter candy with my family. We’ve done this for as long as I can remember and it’s still something I look forward to every year. Nothing beats a homemade peanut butter egg. Yum!
My first kitchen memory is sitting on the kitchen counter listening to the hum of my mom’s stand mixer while she made chocolate chip cookies. I probably got to pour the vanilla and chocolate chips in that day, but I really felt like a “grown up” the day she taught me how to crack eggs.
My first kitchen memory was making pancakes on Saturday morning!
I remember helping my Mom make German Strudel. I also loved mixing the butter and sugar for the topping and sprinkling it on. Thanks for the wonderful recipe. I plan on putting into our meal plan next week.
I remember feeling really bad for my mom because she attempted to make me a princess castle cake from cake and cupcakes. She really has a great talent for decorating cake, but this one all fell over and just didn’t work. It tasted amazing, but my memory is of great saddness because I knew how much she wanted it to turn out for me. I didn’t mind that it was just a pile of cake and frosting-that made it easier to sneak bites 😉
Making cinnamon breadsticks with my grandmother for a cinnamon breadsticks and homemade applesauce afternoon snack!
I think my first memory in the kitchen would be my mom canning produce. We were blessed to live on a farm, and always had a garden.
Making little pies with my Grandma in her kitchen in little pie pans she bought for me. She was a great cook!!
My first cooking memory was trying to make a casserole when my mom wasn’t home. I was in my early teens and my mom never really encouraged me to help her in the kitchen, so I decided to tackle the job myself. It was so horrible that I buried it in the back yard, and never told her about it.
Hmm, I think lining up with my siblings at the stove to get our food as mama dished it out.
Watching Mom make bacon and eggs for breakfast – I think I liked to hear the sizzling of the bacon and looking at the yellow color of the egg yolks.
My first kitchen memory is of my grandmother making pancakes for me when I would sleep over at her house. She always poured them into little shapes, like birds or Mickey Mouse.
It was my grandmother making her scrumptious biscuits!
I don’t know if it was my first, but my favorite was making meatballs with my mom. Literally every counter was covered with trays of meatballs that were in the process of being made or cooked — you’d think we had a 10 kid family!! But mom would freeze them all and golly- were they delicious!!
The smell of my grandmother’s kitchen.
Hmm…probably smelling my mom making Liver and Onions. She never made it again after that because it made the whole house stink!
I remember, when we were visiting my moms parents, my grandad getting up first to start the wood cook stove & my grandma making hot cereal for us. ( I don’t remember cooking with either grandma though)
nineteen19 at blackfoot dot net
Chocolate Chip Cookies-!
my first kitchen memory is the smell of hot cornmeal porridge my mom made with coconut milk. It was made on those cold mornings when you didn’t want to get out of bed but the smell just lured you to the breakfast table. I make this same dish for my son. Thanks MOM.
My first kitchen memory is baking with Mom!
I loved being in the kitchen with my Nana. Her cinnamon rolls were amazing. Our family still talks about them and its been 20 since she made her last batch.
My first kitchen memory was when my cousin and I tried to make churros. The recipe looked easy enough….not! As per the instructions in the book (I swear) heat oil to 250 degrees, add water. My cousin and I had hardly cooked at all and had no idea what would happen if you added water to boiling oil. Well all I can say is luckily no one was hurt but my mom was cleaning oil off ceilings, splash boards the oven,etc for years!
Making cakes with my mom. Back then we’d lick the raw batter bowl; now we know better (wink, wink).
I can remember whipping up “creations” in the kitchen and then making my dad eat them. He was always a willing subject (:
My first kitchen memory is making gingerbread cookies at Christmas. As years went by I went from being allowed to put the pre-measured spices into the bowl, to measuring the spices and other ingredients myself, to being allowed to stir the boiling honey/molasses mix, and finally to hammering the cardamom (not wanting to buy a grinder for that one time a year we used whole spices, a hammer worked just fine) and kneading the super-stiff dough.
My first memory in a kitchen, believe it or not, was making a peanut butter and jam sandwich, (homemade strawberry jam and of course homemade bread) while I watched my grandmother make an apple pie. I remember kneeling on a chair so I could see her roll out the dough and cut the apples. Fun times!! Thanks for the thoughtful question and great memory!!
Making homemade vegetable soup with my grandmother! She was ALWAYS in the kitchen cooking up something, but she let me help make vegetable soup on a regular basis. She never made it the same way twice. She used whatever she had handy that day. We started with tomatoes that she’d grown and canned herself and then added whatever fresh vegetables she happened to have around. My helping primarily involved running back and forth from the basement pantry to fetch things for her, stirring, and sneaking back into the kitchen while the soup was simmering and stealing potatoes out of the pot – still a bit crunchy and not quite done. I wasn’t a patient cook!
My first kitchen memory was making biscuits with my mom for breakfast, specifically cutting out the dough with an upside down glass cup.
My very first kitchen memory is being with my grandma in the kitchen and asking her to make me ramen noodles.
trying to make pancakes myself and setting a kitchen towel on fire….I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen alone for awhile!
My first memory is making my own grilled cheese sandwich. I must have been 6 or so. My mom worked during the day so she gave me specific instructions on how to make my own “grilled cheese sandwich”: first get two slices of bread, put a slice of cheese in between, put the sandwich on a paper towel and microwave for 15 seconds, and voila you had your sandwich!
My very first kitchen memory is standing on a stool at the sink playing with my mom’s kitchen utensils while she cooked. I was probably only 2 years old! =)
I was probably 4 or 5 and my dad was making himself a PB, jam and cheese sandwich. I walked into the kitchen and saw him cutting slices of cheese, so I stood next to him and said “Cheese please!” The dear man totally ignored me and my mother, standing at the door, decided to film me because it was so funny. No kidding, I stood in front of him for almost five, 5, FIVE minutes going “Cheese please!” like a broken record. I’m not sure I even got cheese at the end of it all. My trauma has now become a family joke. No wonder I like cheese so much.
Cheese please!
First kitchen memory…finding an adorable nest of baby mice behind the stove (age 3). First kitchen food memory…making egg noodles with my Aunt Betty who completely influenced who I am by her example of feeding her family well!
My first memory is eating the batter off of the mixers from my mom’s cake.
I don’t have a “first” memory. I just remember always being there licking beaters, rolling pie crust, ripping lettuce, …
I have so many cooking memories I had to take a few minutes to think of my earliest one. I remember crawling onto the counter at a very young age and finding the ‘double-fruit’ raspberry jam jar and drinking its sweet contents, but I don’t think that counts as cooking. A few years later, my mom had me help her bake ‘choux à la crème’ and I remember mixing the batter on the stove, watching the choux rise in the oven (we always plugged in the de-humidifier during those humid Québec summers) and then of course eating the delicious finished products and getting chocolate and whipped cream all over our faces. That’s still the best part!
My friend and I standing on stools at her kitchen counter while her mom showed us how to crack an egg for the first time. I was very little but still remember how much fun it was. It showed me how enjoyable cooking is, especially with friends.
My first memory was stringin string beans and shucking corm for my grandparents from the garden.
Making cookies with my grandma and adding flour to the bowl, turning on the mixer, and watching flour fly everywhere.
Wow… it was a stretch to think back. I think my first memory was helping my dad make his famous homemade mac & cheese.
My first memory of the kitchen comes from making pancakes from scratch with my grandmother — and I even still use the recipe from time to time as a way to remember that special time.
My first memory of cooking is my dad and me making strawberry ice cream in our backyard.
My first memory in the kitchen involves my father. Unfortunatley, my parents are divorced but every weekend that I was with him involved cooking. On Saturday, he would tell me about a recipe he had read about in the newspaper or a dish he had at a local restaurant. We would then go to the grocery store and pick up the necessary ingredients. When Sunday rolled around, we’d make that recipe together and it was SO much fun! He’d tell me about his various kitchen gadgets and why it was so much better to grate your own nutmeg than buy it already ground. Our weekends would end with him packing me up a hefty portion of whatever we had made to take back home with me. Definitely some favorite memories 🙂
When I was a kid, Fabreville (in Laval, Quebec) was chalet country — yup, a place you kinda know. My grandparents owned a shack by the Mille-Iles River. We would visit a farm only a few streets away, in what is now bungalow central, to buy fresh butter. Then we would return to the chalet, stoke the wood cast iron and toast bread on the plate. Slather on some fresh butter, eat, moan. Repeat. At will. I have never eaten anything so simple and perfect since. Or maybe it’s just what childhood memories are all about…