How to Build The Perfect Grain Bowl

I’m not certain if this is historically accurate, but I really think that when Dante wrote The Inferno hundreds of years ago, he really meant to add an eighth circle of hell. I really do. The first seven, you know them right? They’re like the seven deadly sins playing out with fire and brimstone and lots of devils and suffering and such. The little known Eighth circle, though, that one is a little different.

I imagine our friend Dante sitting at his desk back in the roaring 1300’s, ink-dripping quill in hand, staring out a frosty window, watching his children play on the cobblestones outside. And then I imagine that his kids, maybe they’re the weird ones in the neighborhood (most likely because their dad is always talking about hell and stuff). And the other kids don’t always include them in their medieval games. And it’s in watching them suffer, through that foggy old window, that he pens this little known verse to The Inferno:

Watching Your Kids Struggle Is The Eighth Circle of Hell

Ok, so maybe this didn’t happen. Maybe Dante didn’t even have kids. I mean, he seemed like kind of a downer so I imagine even finding a spouse might have been complicated. But anyway…

The validity of my story doesn’t change the fact that watching your kids struggle in ways you cannot fix is absolutely the last circle of hell. It HAS to be. Otherwise I just can’t believe in hell because it must be a place so incredibly terrible and heart wrenching and awful that everyone on earth would do everything they can to avoid going there. 

Oh wait.

I believe this so strongly because watching my own kids struggle through some things in these past few weeks has really done a number on me. My heart is aching and sore and I’m in need of some solace. 

On vacation a few weeks ago I watched Connor, my courageous warrior of a son, volunteer to go on a Teen Party Boat Cruise. BY HIMSELF. He didn’t want to go by himself, mind you, he wanted his older brother to join. But Dillon, being neither a boat person nor a party person, just wouldn’t budge. And while it’s annoying that he didn’t step up for his brother, I get it and don’t hold it against him. But as I sat there and watched all of the party boat goers gather, all in groups, all swarming with the hormonal energy specific to teens, my heart began to break, second by second. Because my sweet son, the youngest of the crowd, sat all alone, invisible and unnoticed. As the clock ticked away and departure inched closer, I watched his eyes scan the crowd, searching desperately for one friendly face, one anchor so he wasn’t alone. He found no one.  

I couldn’t rescue him from this. Every ounce of my being, down to the very last hair on my head, wanted to run, grab him in a football hold and return him to the safety of his family where he is noticed, love and accepted. I could not bear the thought of him getting on that boat alone and invisible among the bigger, louder and more aggressive throng. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being stuck there, no exit, no safety. No anchor. It was breaking my heart second by second.

The Eighth Circle of Hell.

And then this week, sending my kiddos off to sleep away camp, Kenzie for the first time. Six days away from her momma. SIX DAYS. This girl, usually so bold and fearless, struggled with the idea. I could see it building, the panic and the fear. I could feel it, with my own heart, too. This tiny little piece of me, the one who shares my personality and my eyes, she hasn’t been away from our house for more than one night–EVER. And the thought of this camp, the very camp she insisted on signing up for six months ago and was even so bold as to declare “Even if my friend can’t go with me, I’m fine going by myself,” seemed to be more than she could manage. 

Everything in me wanted to give her a pass, let her off the hook and tell her she could stay home. But not only would that be a gigantic waste of money and disappointment to her friend that did, in fact, sign up to go, it also would be teaching her that it’s okay to give in to your fear and let it stop you from doing hard things. And this mom, who’s faced her own battles with this very thing, was not about to give her that permission. So we sent her, fear and all. I watched her get on that bus, clutching her friends hand tight for support with tears rolling down her cheeks. And I died a little bit inside.

The Eighth Circle of Hell.

Watching both of these scenarios play out hurt like hell. My mom heart took punch after punch as each ticking second passed by, both times. No one tells you this about big kid parenting. When you have babies and it’s so hard because you haven’t slept in approximately 31 straight days, you think that moms of big kids have it made. What with all of those free hours of the day while the kids are safely tucked away getting educated and the lack of diapers and middle of the night feedings it seems like a virtual cake walk.

But it’s not. Because watching big kids struggle is a whole new ball game. 

Now I’ve struggled a lot in life, right? I’ve walked through dark times and valleys so deep it makes my body ache just remembering them. I have both brought them on myself and been the victim. Most of these struggles I wish I could have avoided, but yet I know all of them have shaped me and made me who I am. Without walking through the fires of my life I would not be here where I am right now, writing these words and speaking to you. Struggles, in my opinion, are not a bad thing.

Watching my kids struggle, though? Oh heck no. Not a fan. 

I want them to get all of the good stuff, the lessons and the strength and the character, that comes from struggling. Without the actual struggle. I want to protect them from pain. I want to cushion the blow and line the paths of their life with bumper pads. I want, in every way possible, to keep their hearts safe. 

But I can’t.

This is a universal pull of parenthood. It’s a give and take. We’ve learned that giving in to this desire and giving everyone a trophy has wicked effects on a generation, right? We know this. So we don’t. Some deep reserve inside of us is called up and we let our children experience struggles and loss and heartbreak because we desire that they have a full life rather than an easy one. And no, my friend, those two don’t often coincide. It’s hard and it breaks us every time but we do it anyway because we love them. And in the end, that’s all that matters anyway. 

(And just in case you were wondering, Connor didn’t get on that boat. I didn’t run over and grab him but he did walk over slowly, trying to preserve his dignity with every step. He said, “Mommy, I want to go but I don’t want to go alone,” so we walked back to the room and got some ice cream to soothe both of our bruised hearts. Because that is love too.)

How To Build The Perfect Grain Bowl 

For the recipe today, I’m sharing something a bit different. It’s not a recipe per sae, but rather a guide to creating the perfect grain bowl. I’ve had lots of practice building these things, mostly because actual salads make me gag a bit (wilty lettuce dripping in dressing, heck no) but I like something healthy and filling for lunch. I credit a lot of this technique to Blue Apron, who taught me that pickling vegetables is fun and easy. But mostly, this was trial and error. 

So here are my tips for building the best grain bowl possible (along with a couple of awesome combos to try out yourself):

• Make sure you start with a hearty grain. Rice is fine, but Quinoa, Farro and Bulgur are all solid choices that allow better mixing and bite when combined with the veggies.
• It’s important to have greens in your bowl (think kale or spinach) but big giant chunks of them overpower the delicate grains. Instead, slice thinly and then toss with the hot cooked grains and some olive oil right after cooking. This gives each forkful a combo of both and prevents you from getting giant chunks of kale in each bite, which is gross.
• Ratio is important: think 2:1:1–Two parts grain and green to 1 part protein to 1 part crunchy veggies (cut in bite sized pieces). That is the perfect bite. (to pickle the veggies check out this recipe for a guide)
• Sauce matters. Nothing is worse than a dry grain bowl (actually, there are a lot of things worse but I like to exaggerate so deal with it).  I like a two part sauce approach: one base sauce (think a dressing) and one accent (think a kick). This gives layers of flavor and allows for playing. Always have extra for dipping too.
• Layer appropriately: Grains/Greens on the bottom, proteins and veggies on top. Drizzle with sauce and top with “Crunch” layer is using (see recipes for examples of this).
• Always make extra. This is a great travel lunch. Simply layer the solids and tote along the liquids, add right before eating. Lunches for dayzz people. You’re welcome.

Grain Bowl Suggestions:

Here are just a few flavors I’ve experimented with and loved them all. Keep in mind there is no recipe here. For the proteins, all are just sauteed, grilled or roasted tossed with olive oil and salt and pepper. If you’re really lazy, just buy pre-cooked and get down with your bad self. Follow the directions for the grains, throw in your sliced greens and go to town.

ASIAN CHICKEN BOWL:

• Tri-Color Quinoa tossed with thinly sliced baby bok choy
• Sauteed Chicken
• Shredded carrots and cucumbers, quartered and thinly sliced
• Soy Glaze (recipe HERE)
• Sriracha Mayo (two tablespoons mayo, dash of Sriracha, water until drizzle consistency)
• Top with Roasted Sesame Seeds 

MEXICAN BLACK BEAN BOWL:

• Farro (or Quinoa) tossed with thinly sliced kale (dinosaur is better here)
• Oven Roasted Sweet Potatoes combined with black beans
• Thinly sliced Red Peppers
• Avocado Sour Cream (recipe HERE)
• Salsa of your choosing
• Roasted Pepitas 

ITALIAN SHRIMP BOWL:

• Bulgur wheat (or quinoa) tossed with thinly slicked spinach and basil
• Grilled or Sauteed Shrimp
• Diced Tomatoes And Roasted Red Peppers (jarred)
• Basil Pesto (jarred)
• Balsamic Drizzle (store bought)
• Roasted Chic Peas

Don’t take this too seriously. Switch things up, come up with new combinations. If you do, I want to hear them! Drop me a line or comment here. I’d love to hear!

Peace, love and Struggles,

Meg 

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