I recently discovered this intention in some writing notes:

“If I wrote a food blog and was a decent photographer, I would be a realist about the cooking process.  The first photo of any post would show my decently clean kitchen, from a distance so you can’t actually see the nooks and crannies, but organized with just enough counter space to execute a food task.  The next photo would show my decently clean toddler, perched adorably on the counter to the left of the stove.  As the blog post progressed and I waxed philosophical about the beauty of cooking with one’s small progeny, the photos would not, as is popular in the food blogging world, portray lovely clear glass mise en place dishes, grouped artfully on a granite countertop or a wooden butcher block surface with a few extra sprigs of fresh thyme for color and contrast.  No, my photos would journalistically cover the descent into chaos that happens in my kitchen when Junior and I attempt to work together on a food based creation.

Here is the flour exploration.  Here is the bowl of batter into which we have now lost three stirring utensils.  By permitting a fourth stirring utensil, I have purchased just enough time to execute a not-kid-friendly task that will likely result in me burning myself because I’m rushing.  Here we are post excavation of said utensils, batter now dripping down the pants of the intrepid explorer and coating the counter.  Here is the burn on my arm…oh look, it matches last week’s!

These lovely food blogs, with their real film photos, filtered light, minimalist hand thrown ceramics, and … well, good for them.  I’m just trying to bake bread that isn’t heavy as lead, because it’s cheaper than buying good bread at Whole Foods and it keeps Junior entertained for half a morning.”

Since writing these words, I’ve been keeping track of cooking with my toddler, and making nearly incomprehensible notes about recipes we are developing and executing.  And by executing I do mean a guillotine style dispatching of food – chopping with terror and gusto, plenty of splatter, and the occasional severed body part.  Just kidding!  No one has been wounded yet!

Except for the time I came downstairs to find Junior on the counter attempting to slice an onion with a chef knife.  He got a tiny cut on his hand and a long lecture.  So there are some downsides to this approach.

To inaugurate a series I will call Cooking with Junior, who isn’t actually called “Junior” in our house, I bring you a simple recipe that motivates my family to eat more salad.  We should have lots of salad soon because Junior poured an entire pack of what I thought were wildflower seeds onto a square foot dirt patch out back, and it is now coming up as arugula and mustard greens.  Delicious mistake!

I have noticed that the consistent presence of good dressing in the fridge prompts significantly higher raw vegetable consumption.  This dressing is salty, sweet, and full of umami richness from the miso.  It’s a great marinade for meats or tofu, good for tossing steamed veggies, and even, in a pinch, can be poured onto your tortilla chips for weird fake nachos.

What Junior Can Do:
– Pour all the things into the mixing contraption.
– Lick the maple syrup spoon.
– Lick the maple syrup jar.
– Lick his fingers and stick them in the maple syrup jar.
– Press the button on the food processor, or…
– Cower in the the living room in abject terror because you plugged the food processor into an outlet.
– Dip raw vegetables straight into the food processor full of dressing and EAT THEM.

What Can Go Wrong:
– While you have your head in the fridge searching for the other other kind of miso you know you bought, Junior can stand up on the counter, fish for some crackers several feet above his head, and knock the glass sugar container off its shelf.
– Though you are thankful for your new/used iPhone and its improved camera, you might find yourself cursing the terrible light coming off of the stove fixture, and as you fail at photographing the two kinds of dressing you just made, Junior may pour himself approximately 1 1/2 cups of coconut flakes directly onto the counter – the one you just swept mostly free of sugar – for a snack.
– Someone could take a large bite directly out of the middle of a whole head of cauliflower…yeah, that could happen.

Recipe Notes:
– If your food processor isn’t very robust and you want a nice creamy texture, mince the garlic first.
– White miso is slightly sweeter and yields an appealing golden color; red miso tastes a little tangier and results in a darker, rustier hue.
– The dressing may separate in the fridge and look gross, even curdled.  Don’t be afraid of it, it lasts forever.  Bring it to room temperature (takes about 30 minutes), shake vigorously, and add a tsp of water at a time if necessary.

Miso Dressing

Yields1 Serving
Prep Time5 mins

 ¼ cup white or red miso paste
 1 tbsp maple syrup
 1 garlic clove
 2 tbsp rice wine vinegar
 3 tbsp water
 ¼ cup canola or sunflower oil

1

If your blender or food processor is not particularly robust, mince the garlic clove by hand.

2

Combine all ingredients in a blender or food processor. Blend until velvety smooth.

3

Transfer to a storage container and refrigerate. The dressing will separate and solidify in the fridge. Remove 30 minutes prior to using and shake to recombine. It might look sludgy and terrible, but it will taste great!

Ingredients

 ¼ cup white or red miso paste
 1 tbsp maple syrup
 1 garlic clove
 2 tbsp rice wine vinegar
 3 tbsp water
 ¼ cup canola or sunflower oil

Directions

1

If your blender or food processor is not particularly robust, mince the garlic clove by hand.

2

Combine all ingredients in a blender or food processor. Blend until velvety smooth.

3

Transfer to a storage container and refrigerate. The dressing will separate and solidify in the fridge. Remove 30 minutes prior to using and shake to recombine. It might look sludgy and terrible, but it will taste great!

Miso Dressing