"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to let you in."

-- Robert Frost

Monday, January 18, 2010

Come and get it

I can burn a pot of water. Sounds impossible I know. Mealtime has had a real evolution for us. It began with multiple pans of lasagna for two simply because I had grown up cooking for a crowd. In retrospect, I wish I had utilized those earlier years when we were just two by making fun gourmet recipes because once children came along, nothing I made was liked anyway. But at that point in my life, all of the extra effort seemed a little silly since, after all, I was cooking for two.

And then came the kids who turned their noses up at everything as I tried one fun recipe after another. I've caught myself thinking that when time brings us back around to being just two, I will be so good at making the exciting culinary creations I skipped out on the first time around. Time has definitely made my children older and aged their taste buds as well so that now, yes, there are a few favorites at dinner time around here. Unfortunately, either my lack of attention to detail or my inability to follow directions often sends some experiments awry.

There was that time I over salted the scrambled eggs. Newel, being a new-ish husband with an astounding ability to guard his words, lovingly ate them. Years later, though, I learn that at that moment he thought I was trying to kill him. And then I baked a cake once mixing up baking powder for baking soda. Wow, was that a mess. And bless those missionaries for choking that one down. Which brings us to my most recent. Beef stew minus a few apparently essential ingredients. I served it up with my apologies that it didn't quiet look like a beef stew should and my children who -- somewhere -- have learned to eat with loud exclamations of delight and move things around on their dishes to look like they have eaten, did so with smiles of adoration. Dinner finished, dishes done, I poured the left-overs into Tupperware for the next day's lunch because, after all, there are people starving in the world.

And then the next day being Saturday, I over heard a discussion over what was available for lunch that went something like this: "Hey Dad, when's lunch?" Dad: "Now I guess." Kids: "What are we having" Dad: "I think Mom has more dead person stew". (Groans all around) ---- Dead person stew? Dead Person Stew??

Is that stew that turns you into a dead person or stew made out of **gulp** dead people? 365 days a year x 3 meals a day = 1095 meals a year. Can't a girl get it wrong once or twice in awhile? Or maybe I should be flattered that, good or bad, some meals are simply memorable.

3 comments:

  1. Oh, I laughed until it hurt over "dead person stew". Moms don't get no respect, do they?

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  2. Since "dead person stew" is my specialty, Adam's taken the cooking on and I do all the cleaning. Works like a charm.

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  3. I'm with you -- I think it's time for some other folks around here to take a stab at it. (no puns intended)

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