I thought the childhood obesity epidemic was bad enough. But now this. The New York Times reports there is a rise in U.S. children getting kidney stones.

If that isn’t a sign of our poor diet times, I don’t know what is. The culprit, according to the article, is salt. And it’s not just about pouring too much of the white stuff on our foods. The additive can be found—in abundance—in canned soups, deli meats and the popular kid drink, Gatorade. Here’s an interesting press release from Johns Hopkins Medicine that provides doctors’ recommendations on preventing the disorder as well as signs and symptoms to look out for.

I find it really sad that America’s children are growing up with health problems often associated with older age. And that they are preventable, is even more disheartening.

I wish that we could live in a place where all our food—slow or fast—was healthy, where we could pick our fruits and vegetables from trees and the earth and make presto fabulous meals in two minutes. But after I shake myself from that fantasy, I know that all we can do is make the best choices we can.

Unfortunately, what seems like a healthy choice, is often quite the opposite—nothing that reading the label can’t solve. And if you don’t know what cellulose gum is, look it up.

The upside of an alarming article such as this one, is that it may give you pause when reaching for that can of chicken soup or that cold cut. And if not, well then, that’s your choice.

A trip to the grocery store with the kids can be a nightmare, what with all the begging for sugary stuff that’s not on the shopping list. So, I had to share this with everyone because it made me laugh. I was in the cookie aisle at the neighborhood supermarket Saturday enjoying a rare childless shopping excursion when I noticed a cute young couple with 2 small children. The son, who looked to be about 5 years old, was trooping down the aisle clutching a package of cookies that he proceeded to put in the family’s cart.

When the mother noticed what he was doing, she told him with a smile that those weren’t on the list. To my complete amazement—& his parents, from the looks on their faces—he took the cookies out of the cart and went back to return them to the shelf. At this point his parents called out that even though they weren’t on the list, he could get them anyway. He must not have heard them because he kept going—at which point his sister, riding in the cart and likely watching the precious cookies slip away—yelled out frantically that he could get the cookies. The little boy happily placed his treasure back in the cart and the family continued on.

For the first time in I can’t remember when, none of my offspring are going out Trick-or-Treating on Halloween.

I thought I’d be done with costumes and cold, rainy nights under umbrellas long ago, but my youngest went out last year with her other high school sophomore friends and we get students from the nearby college at our door still, so I had pretty much expected to be manning my door alone on Oct. 31 handing out treats.

This year, however, I was surprised to hear my youngest was staying home and handing out, instead of collecting, goodies. So the big debate was on: what do you hand out on Halloween and how much?

In general, we do the non-healthy thing and hand out small candy bars. Depending on how heavy or light the traffic, one small bar per small person, two per big person.

I’ve handed out shrink-wrapped mini-popcorn bags, pennies and (way long ago) home-make cookies and popcorn fresh from the pan, but we’ve settled on junk food for the long haul. For one thing, anything left over goes in the lunch boxes or in my candy drawer at work. And for another, anything even remotely home-made just gets tossed in these amazingly paranoid times.

The only thing home made we do these days is carve our pumpkin. Then we throw the leavings outside into the garden for the squirrels and hope they’ll miss one and we’ll have a pumpkin vine growing up for next year!

Great idea by Amy for mixing healthy with fun (and gross!) this Halloween.  

It got me thinking, what’s the best low-GI, pre-trick-or-treating dinner you can think of to counterbalance all the sugar they are about to consume? (I know how I feel when I eat a lot of sugar on an empty stomach, ugh.) 

 I think this year I’ll go with poached or roasted chicken, some green vegetable (not the sugary ones they prefer like corn or carrots) and brown rice. 

 Then, they can go as crazy as they want.  

To me, Halloween is actually a great holiday for healthy eating — it’s full of natural consequences. I can tell them to take it easy on the candy all I want, but sometimes that Halloween bellyache is a far better teacher. (What a great lesson to learn at a young age: Just because one handful of M&Ms tastes great, that doesn’t mean five fistfuls plus 20 Tootsie Rolls and four Three Musketeers bars will.)

I can also talk about the importance of saving for a rainy day. But it’s far more powerful, I think, to see your sister still enjoying her Halloween stash two months from now when you ate yours all at once.

I have two boys.

Let me repeat: I have two boys.

No matter what anyone says about children being children and all being the same, I can tell you, that’s a load of hooey.

Sure, there are girls who are not so girly (I, myself, was always a tomboy) and boys who are not so enamored of fart jokes. But, in general, there is a difference between the sexes that seems to rear its head at the youngest of ages.

Whenever one of my boys is having a meltdown or an emotional moment, I know that nine times out of 10, I can make a joke about farts or poop and all turns to giggles. Heck, most of the time, I merely need to say, “booger” or “poop” and a giggle fest ensues.

So I knew when I saw this recipe for “Protein Pus Pockets,” I had a winner in something that would be relatively healthy for Halloween, but appeal to their baser nature.

Whole wheat pitas, low-fat or fat-free mozzarella and deli meat. Oh, and ketchup as fake blood. Even this suggestion:

You could probably sprinkle some additional cheese on the platter to represent maggots.

The estimated nutritional info:

between 200-240 calories
around 6 grams of fat
between 12-15 grams of protein
around 25 grams of carbs

Enjoy All Hallow’s Eve, moms and dads. If you know of anything else super-gross I could make my little men for the holiday, please share.

For a person who hadn’t seen an apple orchard until last month, my mom’s always been a big believer in the maxim, An apple a day keeps the doctor away.

There was hardly a day when she didn’t pack an apple in my school lunch box. So much so that I earned the nickname “apple girl” from a classmate’s dad.

But the apples we ate in Mumbai didn’t grow locally. They came from three mountainous states with temperate climates in northern India.

So when we went apple picking last month to one of our neighborhood orchards, my mom turned into more of a kid than my kids.

She gasped at the sight of the low-hanging fruit, and then proceeded to compete with her grandchildren to pluck the red McIntosh apples.

When I began taking pictures, she dove into the ground and lay flat on her back, stretching her hand ever so slightly, to pick the fruit.

Sanjana and Krishna looked puzzled by their Granny’s apple madness, but they were too busy filling their bags to the brim to comment.

After three weeks of happy munching, we are finally back to adding apples to our grocery list.

My mom, meanwhile, is still basking in her afternoon’s worth of sweet autumn memories.

Photo Credit: Peter Carr/The Journal News

We splurged this Sunday after we scored a reservation at the new Mario Batali/Joe Bastianich restaurant, Tarry Lodge, in Port Chester.  I had been reading about the new pizzeria/trattoria for months, from not only our very own food writer Liz Johnson, but from Westchester magazine which had an interview with Bastianich over the summer, in which he described his new digs as a family restaurant. Those two words, these days, always catch my attention.

So after I called on Thursday, thinking there would be no way we could get a reservation for the weekend, I was pleasantly surprised that in fact they could seat a party of three with highchair on Sunday. Of course, asking for a 4 p.m. seating may have helped. I’ve learned it’s best to go “early bird” when dining with baby. It just makes everyone more comfortable.

When we arrived promptly at 4, the staff was running a few minutes late. No problem. There were two couples ahead of us, so we passed the time perusing the menu. Suddenly I heard the woman in the green sweater—obviously running the show that day—say to the two hostesses: seat the lady with the baby first, in the mezzanine. I thought great, there are perks to dining with child. Of course, the mezzanine was not exactly the best part of the restaurant. Still, not a problem. We were there for the food—which I must stress right now, was superb!!! Hands down, one of the better meals I’ve ever eaten.

We were seated at a four-top and put Zyla’s highchair in between us, close to the wall. If she’s sandwiched in, it’s easier for one of us to catch any flying food. That’s actually never been a problem, but you never know. She’s actually very well behaved—and very cute—when we go out to eat, she even flirts with the waiters and says goodbye to patrons as she exits. But there’s always that slight feeling of being on guard—especially when you are eating at a white-linen, five-other-people-besides-the-waiter-comes-to-check-on-you type of establishment—that baby could act out at any moment. She did scream out once when we wouldn’t let her play with the votive, but that was it for the whole hour-plus experience. I figured that paled in comparison to the harmless menu fire that went on at the table next to us.

At one point, a party of four seated next to us moved, which happened to be after Zyla yelped. My husband assured me it was because they wanted a table in the good section of the restaurant, but I’m not so sure. I thought it was because of her, but who really knows. Still, it bothers me when people get annoyed by a baby at a restaurant. I guess that could be selfish on my part.

All in all, it was a great time and as we walked away with Zyla’s tiny little hand in each of ours, wandering the streets of Port Chester looking for an empanda to bring to her grandmother, I thought we should do this more often. I don’t think our bank accounts would agree, though.

For more on the Tarry Lodge, visit Liz Johnson’s small bites blog on lohud.com

I love this time of year. The air gets a little cooler, perfect for a sweater and an extra blanket on the bed at night. The leaves turn brilliant shades of red, gold, and orange. And pumpkins take center stage as decoration and as food.

I came across a recipe for pumpkin waffles that I’ve been making in big batches and freezing for convenient weekend meals. JD loves the waffles and will pack away almost a whole Belgian-sized one—no syrup necessary. I’m guessing he’s going to like his first taste of pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. And if I can muster up the energy & carve out some free time this weekend, I may get a little sugar pumpkin & butternut squash and roast them sprinkled with brown sugar as a break from JD’s beloved sweet potatoes.

Pumpkins also take a staring role at Historic Hudson Valley’s great jack o’lantern Blaze at Van Cortlandt Manor in Croton-on-Hudson. For years, we’d been talking about going but never got motivated in time to get tickets, which go fast. This year we procrastinated too long again and missed out on the early weekend times. But we were able to get tickets for Columbus Day. It was definitely worth it. JD loved all the lit-up pumpkins. The displays were very impressive—everything from a scene from Michael Jackson’s Thriller to decorative carvings to a giant spider web surrounded by a field full of arachnids to the massive dinosaurs. There was even an underwater scene with all kinds of fish and coral and sea life, as well as a few pirates for good measure!

Here’s the waffle recipe from the Epicurious Web site:

Pumpkin Waffles
Gourmet magazine, November 2000
From Cafe 222, San Diego, CA
Makes 12 (4-inch) waffles

Ingredients
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/3 cup packed light brown sugar
2 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
4 large eggs
1 cup whole milk
1 cup well-shaken buttermilk
1 cup canned solid-pack pumpkin
3/4 stick (6 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted
Vegetable oil for brushing waffle iron

Special equipment: a waffle iron (preferably nonstick)

Preparation
Preheat oven to 250°F and preheat waffle iron.

Sift together flour, brown sugar, baking powder and soda, salt, and spices.

Whisk eggs in a large bowl until blended, then whisk in milk, buttermilk, pumpkin, and butter until smooth. Whisk in dry ingredients just until smooth.

Brush waffle iron lightly with oil and spoon batter (about 2 cups for four 4-inch Belgian waffles) into waffle iron, spreading quickly. Cook according to manufacturer’s instructions.
Transfer waffles to rack in oven to keep warm and crisp. Make more waffles in same manner.

(Check out the reviews on the Web site for some reader suggestions to change the recipe to make it more pumpkin-y or to use whole grains.)

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about how we were having trouble getting greens back into Rafael’s diet.

This week, a modicum of success: Green bell peppers.

Part of it, like anything with children, is the sales job.

The day before Rafael tried the bell pepper for the first time, my husband talked it up. And told Rafael he couldn’t have it until the next day. We had a green bell pepper, but Rafael wasn’t allowed to eat it until the next day.

He really looked forward to trying it, with “special dipping sauce,” which was a creamy Caesar dressing we buy that has very little sugar in it.

Rafael enjoyed it a lot, calling it a cross between celery and broccoli.

He loves to eat celery with his mommy, with peanut butter on it (we buy the Costco Kirkland brand, which is nothing but crushed peanuts, no added sugar at all). He hasn’t really gotten into eating broccoli, even though he likes the idea of broccoli.

I loved the description, though.

Admit it—sometimes things get so hectic in the evening after trying to feed the kids, get them ready for bed, get the parental units fed, get the dogs fed, etc. that some things fall by the wayside. Like immediately cleaning the tray on the high chair. No? So, OK, it’s just me. But no more. I got a lesson on the importance of hygiene the other night and it was literally out of the mouth of babe.

JD loves to feed himself now. We just break up whatever the meal is into bite-sized chunks & he goes to town. However, he’s recently discovered that there is a world beyond his mouth and fun to be had trying to feed mommy & daddy. (Not to mention the dogs.) About three-quarters of the way through the meal, he’ll decide to pick up a piece of food and hold it out to whomever is on dinner duty—usually me. At first he was delighted to just hand over the morsel, immediately expecting it to handed back. Sharing’s good, right? But soon the novelty wore off & he wanted to feed his dinner companion—grubby, foody hands & all.

I gotta tell you, I was a little skeeved at first—and I’ve eaten food that my dogs have licked, taken a bite of or worse. (Anyone who has ever had a dog knows at some point in the relationship you will open your mouth at an inopportune time while your canine tried to sneak in a dog kiss. Blech!) But being a good mommy, I opened my mouth wide, accepted the proferred pea and thanked JD profusely for sharing his meal. This delighted him to no end & we proceeded to engage in a version of “one for you, one for me.”

However, from that point forward, I vowed that tray would be immaculate & that his hands would get wiped off at lease once during the meal. (We’ve been working on pre-meal hand washing like a big boy at the sink rather than using wipes or cloths.)