InCultureParent

Carnival Recipe: Pao de Queijo (Brazilian Cheese Bread)

Lauren Capitani — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 17:11:38 +0000

The term Carnival is derived from the term “carnelavare,” which loosely translates to “remove meat.” The festivity is a time of indulgence before the austerity of lent. The celebration, held the 46th day before Easter, varies by country but is marked by dancing, singing and parades.

Because my past few recipes have been carb heavy, I debated including this even though I learned it is a Carnival staple. In the end, I could not resist. I used to eat these rolls in New York, where a Portuguese bakery was on my pedestrian commute. They are crispy on the outside but chewy inside. Even better, they are easy to make, gluten free and a fave of my kids!

Ingredients:
1 cup milk (I use 2%)
1/2 cup butter
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups tapioca flour*
1 1/2 cups grated Parmesan cheese (Mexican cotija cheese also works great)
2 eggs
Mini muffin pan (for 24 mini muffins)

* Tapioca Flour can be found at specialty and Asian markets. It is also called tapioca starch.

Instructions:
1. Preheat oven to 400.
2. Bring the the first three ingredients to a boil in a saucepan, stirring constantly.
3. Once it comes to a boil, and butter is fully melted, remove from heat.
4. Slowly add one cup tapioca flour, stirring constantly until thoroughly mixed. Add the cheese and eggs to mixture (once it has cooled down some), then the remaining flour. Mix until smooth.
7. Fill each (non-greased) mini muffin cup to the top. You will have enough for 20 rolls.
8. Bake until golden brown, 20-25 minutes.

Eat while hot. Rolls can be stored covered in the fridge and rewarmed on a low setting in the oven.

As a note, the rolls don’t taste good cold!

Carnival Craft: Make a Float

Jen El-Banna — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 22:00:12 +0000

No matter where you celebrate Carnival, be it Brazil or Trinidad, there will always be a street parade. Often these parades include not only costumed participants and music but elaborate floats. You can have your own parade by creating mini-floats at home. Each float can have a theme or just include carnival colors and decorations. Make one together or have each family member create their own and award each a ribbon for its design.

Materials:
Shoe box
Construction or wrapping paper
Glue
Tape
Scissors
Variety of craft supplies (ribbon, glitter, sequins, beads)

Instructions:
1. Turn your shoe box upside down and wrap it with construction paper. You can use the cover as the back of your float by taping it upright to the short side of the box.

2. Decide on a theme or just start decorating. We used a toilet paper tube as a stand for our Carnival Princess, beads, sequins, and glitter glue.

I helped my five- and seven-year-olds cover the box but after that, they came up with their own designs. We looked at a variety of carnival celebrations online for inspiration, and of course they were reminded of the movie “Rio.” We also celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans last year, so that was also an inspiration.

Ayyam-i-Ha: February 26-March 1

The Editors — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 04:02:58 +0000

Ayyam-i-Ha (also called Intercalary Days) is a period of hospitality, charity and gift-giving for Baha’is that is celebrated from February 26 to March 1. This is a festive time where people give gifts–mainly to children, have parties and focus on charity. Baha’u'llah, the founder of the Baha’i faith, said of Ayyam-i-Ha, “It behoveth the people of Baha, throughout these days, to provide good cheer for themselves, their kindred and, beyond them, the poor and needy, and with joy and exultation to hail and glorify their Lord, to sing His praise and magnify His Name.”

The Baha’i calendar is a solar calendar (365 days in a year, 366 in leap years) consisting of nineteen months, each containing nineteen days. This leaves four days (five in leap years) that do not belong to any month and thus are “intercalary” (literally, “inserted”) days.

Ayyam-i-Ha prepares Baha’is for the fast, which begins March 2 and ends March 20. Like Muslims during Ramadan, Baha’is refrain from food and drink from sunrise to sunset, obligatory for all who are healthy and not traveling, with exemptions for pregnant and nursing mothers and those who are over 70. Fasting is a form of self-discipline and the fast is a time of prayer and meditation, during which Baha’is detach themselves from the things of this world and draw closer to God. Fasting reminds Baha’is of those who are poor and lack food, in order to be more compassionate and encourage charity. Bahai’s fast for 19 days (unlike Ramadan which is 30 days) and there is no obligation to make-up missed days of fasting as in Islam.

There are no prescribed ways of celebrating Ayyam-i-Ha. Baha’is have sought to avoid specific rituals that are not mandated in their scriptures and they have resisted commercializing their holidays. Baha’i families invent their own beautiful traditions each year, like the one featured in our craft section–an advent style banner for the four days of the celebration.

Putting Down Roots and Buying Real Estate as an Expat

Mary Hackett — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 00:11:35 +0000

Image courtesy: flickr - Tim Green aka atoach

For an expat family (or for this expat family, anyway) putting down roots somewhere can be difficult. The possibility of moving on is always present. The culture and language are not our own, we don’t have much family nearby and the current world economic situation means that jobs are more likely to change than not.

So how do you settle down? Put down roots? Feel connected?

In our case, the beginning of an answer to that question lies in buying real estate. We’ve finally become homeowners (ok, apartment owners).

It was a step we had intended to take for a long time. As soon as we knew we were coming back to France, the plan was to purchase. We landed in our little town without knowing anything about it and fell in love. Quiet, green, full of parks and trees, yet near enough to Paris to make it feasible to go on a regular basis. We were hooked. The downside was the price: we quickly realized that our dream of owning a little house with a small garden was pretty unrealistic if we wanted to stay in our new home. So we started looking elsewhere. Farther and farther from Paris and from the new friends we had made.

How silly this was really hit me when we were visiting yet another little house in yet another little town. The real estate agent, with that capacity, unique to real estate agents, to make the saddest, dumpiest dump sound like a palace, had led us to the last house of a row of houses. The roof dipped suspiciously in the middle. There was a garden, cut into oddly- shaped chunks around the oddly-shaped house. A large, busy street right out the front door ushered traffic past the house at heart-stopping speeds. Matthew, out in the garden, told me, “I like it, mom. But how will we get to the sandbox?” Ah, the sandbox.

In front of our rental apartment was a large, lovely garden. A lawn, rosebushes, benches, and a spacious sandbox, where all the neighborhood children gathered to play every day after school. It was a ritual that lasted all spring; meeting after school with bikes, scooters, balls, sand toys, snacks, from the time school ended until dusk. Matthew could not imagine life without his friends at the sandbox. When he said that to me, my heart clenched. I thought to myself, “We have so few connections here, why on earth would we cut off the few we’ve forged?”

As it turned out, a month or two later we visited the apartment that would become our new home. It’s about 500 meters from our rental. Matthew goes to the same school, and Ramzi goes to the creche he got a part-time spot in. The apartment doesn’t have the two things I had told myself and my husband I most wanted, a fireplace and a garden. But it does have plenty of space, lots and lots of light and enough bedrooms to be comfortable. And it’s in our adoptive hometown. We don’t have to start over yet again, make all new friends, find new doctors, pharmacists, shops and stores. What I sacrificed, a hypothetical garden and fireplace, are small beans in comparison to staying in a familiar, comfortable and friendly place.

I didn’t anticipate how this common transaction would change the way I looked at our town and how it would deepen my attachment to our neighborhood, friends and neighbors, but I can already sense new little roots digging in. All of a sudden, we are no longer tenants. We have a stake in something, a vested interest in our building and our community. I can allow myself to relax, to allow acquaintances to develop into friendships. I didn’t even realize how much I have been holding back until suddenly I ‘m not anymore. This is no longer a weigh station to somewhere else but has become our real life—a place our family will collectively remember and love.

While my logical brain still reminds me that moving is always a possibility, it now seems much further away. We’ve crossed a threshold after all these years of living here. It’s a similar sensation to the one I had after getting married to the man I’d already been living with for three years—utterly familiar and thrillingly different at the same time.

Has your expat family put down roots? How did you begin to feel attached to the place you live?

How My Kids Made Me Like Valentine’s Day

Stephanie Meade — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 07:26:28 +0000

I never cared much about Valentine’s Day until my oldest daughter was two. That year at preschool, she received her first Valentine’s Day cards. The box that they crafted to hold the Valentine’s and all of the cards within it became one of her favorite things to play with for many months. Each day, she took out the box and sorted through all the Valentine’s, sometimes ordering them and sometimes forgetting them in different places around the house. Not yet able to read, she knew who gave her each of the cards, without having to ask me the name. Witnessing how special the day was for my daughter, the simple act of giving and receiving cards from her friends, accorded me a new appreciation of the day.

Every year on Facebook, I am reminded by all of my friends in Latin America that Valentine’s Day is not just about love. It’s also about friendship: “Feliz Dia del Amor y Amistad” (Happy Love and Friendship Day). My kids’ excitement reinforces the essence of the day that we’ve somehow lost through greater commercialization. It’s not really about flowers, chocolates, expensive dinners and manufactured displays of love that often turn into unmet expectations. The essence is a celebration of all types of love and the spontaneity of the little tokens of affection–like the simple pleasure of receiving cards from all your school friends.

Here are the cards my five-year-old made this year, almost entirely by herself. She had a very strong vision of what she wanted. And we decided to add the finishing touch of writing all the kids’ names in both Arabic and English, thanks to my husband’s help.
Can you tell which one is her best friend? She glued two hearts on her card.

And here are my three-year-old’s cards. She liked the elephant theme, so I cut everything and she colored in all the hearts.

Happy Love and Friendship Day!

The Power of Culture in Raising Multilingual Kids

Jan Petersen — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 20:05:57 +0000

Image courtesy: flickr – Kodomut

TV and Other Cultural References

Through use of technology it is fairly easy for us to expose our children to all kinds of languages and cultures. Need proof? My daughters recognise the title song of a TV show called “Wickie und die starken Männer” even though we live in the UK where it will never air.

I used to watch “Wickie” (“Vicky the Viking”) when I was a kid. It is one of the few shows I remember, along with “Biene Maja” (“Maya the Honey Bee”) and of course “Sesamstraße” (“Sesame Street”). I watched these shows because when I grew up, they were the only ones around. No worries, I’m not going to go on about the good old times or anything. My point is that had my parents been expats, it would have been very hard for them to get access to any non-German TV shows or even films.

I don’t think TV is the most important cultural achievement of humankind, far from it. But nobody can deny that it is influential. For at least two generations, it has been part of our socialisation. I can easily pick out people in my age group by finding out who the resident humans in “Sesamstraße” were when they were watching (Lilo & Henning, in case you’re asking me).

There are also books, of course. I can easily buy English, French or American books on Amazon these days. Twenty years ago, I went to bookstores and they ordered them for me, which worked ok, but I was relying on some other sources to even find out what I wanted to order.

It’s clearly easier these days to get materials in about any language, so the question is: chicken or egg? Is it now easier to be an expat? Or do we have more resources because there are more expats?

Creativity with Language

A lot of people would call it “mixing languages” and they might even worry about it, but I love it when my three-year-old takes English words and modifies them so they fit into a German, French or Arabic sentence grammatically.

I am German and we like making words by stringing shorter words together. My feeling is that with the level of creativity my daughters show even now, they will be great at coming up with German words! The most important part is of course their ability to read in four languages and two totally different alphabets, something I envy them for. I might eventually be able to decipher Arabic, but don’t hold your breath.

When my daughters meet their cousin in Germany, they have the most hilarious conversations. Often, their cousin will smile or laugh about the way they say things. And then she borrows some of their expressions, creating something special between them.

Music

Music is the art form (or entertainment) that has the most impact on my feelings. It can make me happier, give me energy, cool me down or sustain sadness. I can not fully explain what it does to me, to be honest. Different music fits different situations, of course.

Music has always been fairly international. I used to listen to English music on the radio a lot when I was young, later I listened to music from France and these days I’m having trouble knowing where something comes from. All kinds of styles have crossed over and created a lot of different, interesting blends.

Those of us who are non-native English speakers might remember how as teenagers we were singing along with English music not having the faintest idea what we were singing. Sometimes this can be hilarious (there are videos on YouTube about the phenomenon), sometimes even slightly inappropriate.

When I started to understand French songs I was surprised: knowing what they were about added a new dimension to my listening pleasure. Same for English music. Now my kids will be able to listen to music in Arabic, English, French and German and understand it! Isn’t that great?

Books

Books have a similar impact as music on me, only it takes longer to immerse myself in the experience. One might almost say books are a four-course menu for the soul and music is the candy bar. What I wrote about TV, films and music applies here as well, especially because often the more obscure and specific nuances and references of written language get lost in translation.

It is very dear to me that my daughters will be able to read books like Onkel Florians Fliegender Flohmarkt by German author Paul Maar. You might have gathered that mastery of language is something I value very highly–I am only really comfortable writing in German, which makes German a special language for me. Onkel Florians Fliegender Flohmarkt is a book that plays with and bends German around and is great for kids from ages seven or eight up. I absolutely loved it when I was small. I recommend the book for anyone who can read German.

Nirvana Day Recipe: Miso Udon Soup

Lauren Capitani — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 17:07:00 +0000

Nirvana Day, also called Parinirvana Day, is celebrated throughout the Mahayanan Buddhist world. While celebrations (and even the date the holiday is celebrated) differ depending on their locale, the universal premise of the holiday is to commemorate the day when Buddha reached full nirvana, or bliss, through death. Buddhists celebrate death as a form of change, rather than mourn it. Because the day is a time for simple reflection, typical Nirvana Day recipes are uncomplicated, vegetarian fare. The below recipe is one typically enjoyed by Japanese Buddhists.

Ingredients:
1 pound fresh udon noodles (Can be found in the refrigerator section of many markets. Dry may be substituted.)
1 teaspoon sesame oil
3 tablespoons white or yellow miso
Optional toppings: 5 sheets roast seaweed snack, torn into pieces; 1 piece firm tofu, cubed; and/or 1 scallion, sliced thinly

Instructions:
1. Boil noodles in 2 quarts water until tender, 7-9 minutes.
2. Add remaining ingredients.
3. Serve in soup bowls.

Enjoy!

Nirvana Day Craft: Lotus Flower

Jen El-Banna — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 16:59:57 +0000

Nirvana Day is a Mahayana Buddhist holiday commemorating the death of the Buddha. It is observed on February 8 or 15. Nirvana is the idyllic spiritual condition, the ultimate goal of a Buddhist. The day itself is spent in meditation, reflecting upon those who have more recently died, and special food preparations are made. Sometimes gifts of money or clothing are exchanged.

The lotus flower is a well-known symbol of Buddhism. Its growth from the mud to above the water’s surface represents the journey from darkness to light. To explain this concept to a child you could make this simple lotus flower using pipe cleaners. It makes a pretty decoration, or could be given away to family and friends. You could also add beads to the pipe cleaners, which is a great fine motor activity for little hands.

Materials:
Seven pipe cleaners of any color
Three green pipe cleaners
Beads (optional)

Instructions:
1. For the petals, twist six of the colored pipe cleaners into figure eights.
2. Arrange the figure eights into a circle and weave the remaining colored pipe cleaner through the center. Leave a bit of the end loose to attach to the stem.
3. Bend four of the petals upwards for the middle of the flower.
4. For the leaves, twist two of the green pipe cleaners into figure eights.
5. Bend the final green pipe cleaner in half and use it to hold together the leaves. Attach the stem to the petals.
6. If you are using beads, follow the same steps but add the beads to the petals while making figure eights.

Pipe cleaners are very forgiving so be creative and have fun!

What do Baklava and Doro Wat Have in Common?

Ellenore Angelidis — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 22:36:10 +0000

When I was growing up, cooking and baking were a way for me to escape the problems of the day and ultimately find a new vantage point. I remember lonely Friday nights during middle school where I would get lost in baking cookies. During the measuring and mixing, I would stop obsessing about my status at school or the day’s slights. When the cookies were cooling, my perspective would have altered just enough so my world seemed a little brighter and my problems almost manageable. Thinking back, I realize the act of food preparation helped me break negative circuits in my head as I allowed myself to enjoy the creativity and the creation inherent in the act.

Growing up, my sisters and I learned Dutch before English. We attended school and church with people of similar origin. We celebrated traditions from the land well known for its windmills. We also traveled back to the Netherlands every five years or so to visit extended family. My immigrant parents and I often found a gulf separated us from fully understanding each other.

Food became part of a bridge we built in my adult years. I vividly recall making pofferjes at my Oom (uncle) Piet’s house as a child. The small, puffy, round pancakes dusted with powdered sugar melted in my mouth in just one bite. Now making them with my kids takes me back to those times. On New Year’s Eve, my dad made oliebollen—fried dough with raisins and chunks of apples dipped in powdered sugar and eaten hot. When I learned to make them, I felt a new connection form. I share this experience with him although we prepare the dish at different times and miles apart. My parents and I still have much we don’t understand about each other. But when they see my kids scream for pannekoeken (thin Dutch pancakes) and witness me preparing them as they did for me and my sisters, I can show them their culture has become a part of ours too.

My first date with my Greek-born husband was at a restaurant called Greek Islands in Chicago. It was my introduction to the taste of his food and coffee, which I found out the hard way had grounds in the bottom. My initial visit to his homeland was ironically without him. My mother-in-law cooked “eggplant shoes,” wonderfully unlike anything I had ever tasted before. She is a food-is-love person and is always in the kitchen fixing something. When I mastered the art of baklava and my husband complimented me by saying, “Wow, this is as good as my mother’s. Just don’t tell her!” I felt a little Greek too. And I paid homage to his mother, even though our lives have taken divergent paths. She taught me recently to make a few of my favorite Hellenic foods. She didn’t use recipes. So my son Damian and I stayed in the kitchen for hours documenting every step. I don’t think I felt closer to her than when she shared this gift—with minimal words spoken but much laughter and tasting. Language has been a challenging barrier for us but communication through food broke through it.

When we went to Addis Ababa to meet our daughter, we sampled Ethiopian cuisine for the first time. Bringing a child into our family from another part of the world gave us the responsibility to connect her to her culture. For me, learning to cook her food and seeing her natural affinity for it (quite unlike her brothers who are finding it an acquired taste), made me feel a little bit like an East African mama. Preparing these dishes and stocking my shelves with spices I just discovered felt like an investment in her roots. As the smells of lentils cooking with berbere or duro wat waft through the house, I imagine these are the same aromas as those in the kitchen of her first mother. And I feel the expanse of half the globe disappear.

When I traveled last year to India to celebrate two friends’ union, I witnessed that no other culture quite does weddings like Indians with a weeklong affair of parties and festivities. I enjoyed marsala tea for the first time and many vegetarian and non-vegetarian specialties. I continue to drink that spicy tea with milk and am transported to the beauty and chaos that was my Indian experience. I also learned to make some of my favorite dishes as a way to honor the amazing heritage my friends and their families opened up to me.

Food is a wonderful, accessible expression of culture and a way to connect. There are no rules, boundaries or judgments. I can mix, match and modify while learning and enjoying. And you can share it too. I am working on a cookbook so my children can join me on this journey and add their own twists. Specifically, I found the preparation and the creativity of opening my mind to new tastes, flavors and combinations opens my internal dialogue to new paths and connects me with others whose cultures differ from mine.

Last Friday night, I felt quite down after receiving disappointing work news. I woke up Saturday still blue. Without thinking, I headed to the kitchen. I started cooking and baking. My three kids joined in or passed through as the hours lapsed. At the end of the day, the disappointment was less bitter and the possibilities more exciting. I was transported back to those middle school baking sessions that had the same effect. I realized my culinary exploits that led to this Zen feeling had broadened to include the cultures I embraced. With no specific intention, my Saturday offerings included Greek zucchini, Ethiopian lentils, Indian curry cauliflower, as well as a few variations of cookies. Maybe the connection to the individuals and cultures they represent was part of the genesis for the peaceful feeling I gained…at least I would like to think so.

Mixed Portraits of Multiracial Kids

InCultureParent Magazine — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 18:26:02 +0000

This contest is now closed.

Mixed Portraits of Multiracial Kids, published by Chronicle Books, is the dream child of Kip Fulbeck, a multiracial professor, artist, filmmaker and writer who created the fantastic Hapa Project.

I came across this book online and loved the idea. So I knew InCultureParent readers would love it too. When I received the book, it delivered even more than my first glance online. In addition to awesome portraits of kids, together with their names and heritage, there is also a blurb from either the child or their parents about their identity. Here’s one I liked from Morgan’s mom: “Whenever someone asks, ‘What are they?’ about my kids, I always reply, ‘The United Nations.’ My little Mexi-Peruvi-Scott-Swiss-Vietnamese kids attract a lot of attention….My kids know both the joy of busting up a piñata at birthdays as well as opening a red envelope on Tet.” It’s a great book for all kids that shows the beauty of mixed families and it may be particularly special for multiracial kids who don’t see themselves represented frequently in books. I was fascinated to flip through, together with my kids, and look at all the different mixed heritages.

So let’s get down to it. Here’s what you need to do to win:

Sign up for our email list: http://www.incultureparent.com/sign-up . We don’t spam you, sell or giveaway your email, we just would like to have you as part of our growing community! Once you have signed up, please leave us a comment below letting us know what first name you signed up with (we do check!). That’s it!

Want more chances to win? Then get social.

**Please leave a separate comment as we will pick the winner by random number generator based on the number of comments.

1. Follow us on Twitter and tweet about this giveaway including a link to the post and @incultureparent. Copy the link to the tweet in an additional comment on the giveaway’s post.

2. Repost any one of our InCultureParent articles on your Facebook page (your pick) and leave us a comment telling us which article you reposted. (Please note, it must be one of our site’s articles you repost, not just any article we have linked to on our Facebook page.)

This contest will close Tuesday February 14 at 10 p.m. PST and is open to everyone around the world. We will ship globally. Good luck!