Scott Hutcheson

As American as... (and recipe for Curried Chicken Salad)

Originally published in quality newspapers on July 1, 2010

Every once in awhile I have a conversation with one of my children that stops me in my tracks and I had one of those with my oldest son the other day. We were talking about some of his friends from school and one of the names caught my attention.  I repeated the name back and asked, “Is he…” then named the nationality from which I thought that name might come. My son paused, looked at me quizzically, and said, “No, he’s American. He lives here.”

At that moment, I realized that my children see the world much differently than I do. When I encounter someone with a different color of skin than me or with a particular accent, my first thought is to associate them as Mexican, Chinese, Greek, or whatever. My son, however, sees them first as American, simply because they are here. They are here, just like me, and they likely have the same American dream as me. We’re all here together and occasions like the 4th of July are good times to be reminded of that.

This diversity is part of what defines us. We all came to this country originally as the tired, the poor, the huddled masses. I recently had a chance to poll some of my friends about where their families came from originally and for how many generations had they been here. Nearly every corner of the globe was represented in the responses and some had been here for just a generation and others for centuries. One of my friends noted that unless we are Native American we’re all originally “boat people.”

We’re essentially a nation of imports and even some of what we consider as quintessentially American was imported from somewhere else. Would there even be baseball had there not first been cricket? It’s hard to imagine our American cuisine without its many influences. Most of our favorites have roots from elsewhere. In this season of cookouts and backyard BBQs, we have Germany to thank for our hot dogs and England for our apple pie. This summer I’m trying to broaden my repertoire of “American” picnic fare by enjoying Asian noodle dishes and sandwiches made on Cuban bread. Another terrific picnic menu item is this Curried Chicken Salad, bursting with the warm spices of India.

I don’t know if we’ll ever update our idioms to make room for our diverse American reality – “As American as motherhood and Pad Thai?” but I’m grateful my children are growing up in a country where no matter what color of skin you have or how your last name is pronounced, you are American because you are here.

Curried Chicken Salad

• 1 -1/2 lb grilled chicken breasts, skin removed and meat chopped
• 1 medium red onion, chopped (1 cup)
• 1 firm-ripe mango (3/4 pound), peeled, pitted, and chopped
• 1/2 cup salted roasted cashews, coarsely
• 1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
• 1/2 cup mayonnaise
• 1/3 cup plain yogurt
• 5 teaspoons curry powder
• 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
• 1 teaspoon honey
• Salt and pepper to taste

Place the chicken, onion, mango, cashews, and cilantro in a large mixing bowl. In a medium bowl add the remaining ingredients and whisk to combine. Add the dressing mixture to the large bowl and stir to combine. Serve on good bread or in pitas.

Lovely, Dark, and Deep

I spent much of my first 12 or so years in the woods. Our house in Peoria was on Big Hollow Road and there was indeed a big hollow behind our property. I had a treehouse in the hollow and spent a lot of time following the narrow creek at the bottom for what seemed like miles.

When I got to my teen years I spent much less time in the woods and except for a few hikes in the Smoky Mountain foothills near Chattanooga, where I attended college, I've stayed pretty clear of this part of nature.

Last week, and again this week, I've had overnight meetings at two of Indiana's state parks - McCormick's Creek and Spring Mill. At both places, I've had a chance to get outside to take a hike in the wilderness. It has been much too long since I have done this.

We're raising our two boys in the city and they won't have the benefit of running out back to play in the woods, but we need to figure out ways to give them this opportunity.

Somebody Stole My Worm

They say that the early bird gets the worm. Well, somebody stole my worm! Here is how it happened. About the time I graduated from college, my internal body clock got set back about three timezones. Like most adolescents and young adults I loved the night life (usually minus the "boogie") and, when give the chance, would stay in bed until noon. When I was about 24, my work situation demanded that I show up at 6:00 am to do the books from the previous day. After a little coffee to sweep away the cobwebs, I discovered I had this amazing clarity of mind and level of energy I had never experienced before.

A "morning person" had just been born. After the morning bookkeeping job was long gone, I continued the early risings sometimes getting up closer to five than six. I spent a year as a telecommuting technical writer for American Airlines and found that I could get up to begin work at five and have my daily quota completed by about 10 am, shaving a good three hours off the time it would have taken to do the same work during a nine-to-five day.

Along with the increased production value of these early mornings, came a bit of daily solitude that I really need. As much as I loved my new bride, I really enjoyed having a couple of hours to myself. My Introvert/Extrovert scale tips slightly to the "I" side which indicates, among other things, that it takes some alone-time to recharge my batteries.

For 13 years, this is they way we operated at our house. I would wake up way before the sun, get lots done, recharge my batteries, then a couple of hours later, Lisa would wake up and we would enjoy our day together or head out to our respective places of employment. I might doze off at night before her but it all worked for us. So, who stole my worm? A little bald guy who showed up on the scene in 2001 and was joined by an equally-bald accomplice in 2005. Henry was an early riser from day one and continues to be. The kid wakes up at 5:30 or 6 am ready to take on the world. His little brother sleeps just a little longer but is still up before dawn.

Here I am at a time when I would like most to have my mornings - to blog, to work on my book - yet I've got two little guys who need and want dad's early-morning attention. So, I've adjusted. Most of my writing gets done at night or I set the alarm for 3:30 am, which is even early for me and I don't quiet have the same level of creativity after having only four hours of sleep.

The rare exceptions are when we go to visit Lisa's sister in Dayton, OH. They are on a much different schedule then we are. When here, our kids stay up much later than at home - like three or four hours later. They will sometimes sleep in until 7:00 or 7:30 am. I use this chance, to get out of the house to hit a WiFi coffee shop. That's where I am now. After finishing this post, I'll get another cup of joe and work on the book.

Secret Handshake

I cut my finger the other day doing something in the kitchen. Not a bad cut just one that would not stop bleeding, at first. When I went to look for a adhesive bandage all we had in the house were the kind with Spiderman on them. The next day I had a business meeting with someone I had never met. At seemingly the same time we noticed that we both were sporting bandages - his with Dora the Explorer - and understood that we both had young kids. We spent the next few minutes swapping family stories before getting down to business.

   

Coleman Natural Meats

I'm not obsessive about organic or all-natural products but when I find a good product that fits our busy lifestyle, I usually become a regular customer. My latest procurement has been some frozen hamburger patties from Coleman Natural Meats. You don't have to thaw these, just put the frozen patties on the grill or in the pan and they are ready in less than ten minutes. Here are a few features of their beef:

• Never fed or administered antibiotics
• 100% vegetarian fed, with no animal by-products or animal fats
• Raised with no added hormones
• Pasture raised and grain fed
• Feeds are routinely tested to be free of prohibited substances

We had these for dinner the other night and they were quite tasty. Henry (4 years old) ate nearly two 1/4 pound burgers. This is a lot of food for him.

Toys from Tots

I am relatively new to this parenting business - only 4-1/2 years into it, so admittedly I get amused, amazed, and touched by the smallest things. This week at preschool they had a "Santa's Workshop" for which the kids could bring $5 to shop for their parents. Henry came home on Wednesday with two presents he had picked out and wrapped himself. He was so excited, he wanted us to open them right away. For me, he picked out a pair of pliers and for Lisa a collection of soaps. From what we understand there was a "mommy" table and a "daddy" table to help the kids make their selections, besides the gender stereotyping, I thought this was a nice idea.

I really enjoyed watching Henry get excited about this, asking us what was on our Christmas list and then picking out what he thought we would like. He did a great job and I was touched to know he took such great joy in giving us presents. 

Gingerbread Pancakes for Christmas Morning Breakfast

Originally published in the Lebanon Reporter on December 22, 2005

My children are early risers. On a normal day, a 6:00 am wake up is sleeping in. 5:30 am seems to be about where their body-clock alarms are set and I have yet to find the snooze button on either of our boys. I’m betting that on Christmas morning our four year old will be up and ready to open presents at about 3:00 am. We’ll think of some creative way to get him back in bed - “Santa hasn’t been here yet because we’re his very last stop.”

I can easily recall my childhood days when I was the first to wake up on Christmas morning. Fast forward to my teen years, when I developed a habit of sleeping late, not even Christmas presents were enough an incentive for me to shrug off adolescent slumber. What usually got me out of bed during my teen years was the aroma of breakfast. There is nothing quiet like being lulled awake by the aroma of sizzling bacon and griddling pancakes wafting their way from the kitchen to your bedroom.

Growing up, Christmas day was always a big-breakfast morning. When we were little, breakfast would wait until after the presents were opened. With a houseful of teens, it was the only thing that could rouse us. Presents came afterward. Regardless of whether it was pre- or post-dawn, it was BIG. It was breakfast from a bygone era, the kind of everyday breakfast I imagine being had before a hard day’s work on the farm or in the factory. These are the breakfasts of bacon, sausage, ham, eggs, hash browns, biscuits, pancakes, and sweet rolls. A far cry from the oatmeal, low fat yogurt, reduced acid orange juice, decaf coffee, or on-the-go meal replacement bar breakfasts many of us are used to today.

High fiber, low fat, low carb, low taste breakfasts are a necessary evil in the world we’ve created in which most of us work jobs where we expend minimal energy. I urge you to make Christmas morning the exception. This Christmas morning give your family the gift of a big breakfast.

Pancakes are always a big hit at our house and these Gingerbread Pancakes are especially popular. The addition of the traditional gingerbread spices make them just right for the Christmas morning breakfast table. Serve these with softened butter and plenty of maple syrup. If you make these pancakes, please consider buying real maple syrup. They are good with artificially flavored syrup but they are great with real syrup. I know it’s expensive, but its Christmas, what isn’t expensive? 

Gingerbread Pancakes   

   

• 2-1/4 cups all-purpose (white flour)
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 2 tablespoons baking powder
• 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
• 1 egg beaten
• 1 teaspoon vegetable oil
• 1 cup milk
• 1 teaspoon vanilla

In a medium size bowl, mix all dry ingredients together (flour through nutmeg). In another bowl mix all the wet ingredients (egg through vanilla). Add the liquid to the dry mix and mix well. This makes a pretty thick batter which result in a thicker pancake. If you prefer thinner pancakes, add a little more milk. If you typically use a baking mix, like Bisquick, to make pancakes, you can just add the vanilla and spices and they will turn out great.

Heat griddle or pan to medium (non-stick cooking services are best and even those work better when brushed with a little vegetable oil. Use about a 1/4 cup of batter for each pancake. You know pancakes are ready to turn when bubbles form on top. This recipe will make 8 pancakes.

"Poor Little Kittens..."

Remember those irresponsible little kittens who consistently misplaced their mittens? Well, I feel like their dad. It seems like I have spent a good part of this cold-weather season searching the house, the cars, the strollers, the church pew, and the mall floor for mittens, hats, and other warm-weather attire. Oliver is at the stage where his socks and shoes keep falling off, so I've been looking for those too. 

Precious Cargo

We just returned home from a weekend in Chicago. The trip home was quite an adventure. What is normally a less than three-hour drive took almost five due to weather. The boys slept through the whole thing and as I occasionally glanced at their reflection in the rear view mirror, I was reminded of something Lisa's dad said years ago. It was when we were dating and I was taking Lisa back to college during come inclement weather. He said, "I want you to drive carefully because you are carrying precious cargo." Battling the elements with the entire family in the car, doing all you can to make sure they safely arrive at their destination seems somewhat like a metaphor for parenting. Right now my job as a their parent is to let them sleep peacefully though the stressful and frightening parts of life. When they are a little older the challenge will be to give them what they need so they can navigate through life on their own.      

A Grandmother by Any Other Name Would Still Smell Like Cold Cream

Henry and Oliver's "Nana" is visiting us this week. She looks nothing like the woman in this photo. She is only 60, does not wear housecoats, does not smell like cold cream, but is a great baker. Like many families we began calling her Nana because that is how she was first addressed by her first grandchild. That grandchild, Henry's cousin Elijah, is now six and has decided to call her "Grandma." Henry is still in Nana mode. I told him the other day that he can call her something else if he wants to. He said he would think about it.

As a kid I had two very different grandmothers. On the Hutcheson side it was "Grandmother" and "Granddaddy." Anything less formal would just not do. As a toddler I began calling my maternal grandmother "Ma Ma" which is pronounced "Maw Maw." As I got older no one ever gave me permission to switch from the baby babble to a more grown up name. I continued to call her Ma Ma until the day she died when she was in her nineties and I was in my thirties. As a teenager and adult I always felt a bit awkward calling her Ma Ma. That is why I gave Henry the option. We'll see what he wants to do.

What about the rest of you? Anybody want to fess up to a goofy grandparent name you continue to use into adulthood? Anybody a grandparent and would like to be called something else? Anybody successfully make the transition?