When I was a child in the 60's. the title of this post was the highest compliment you could give about something -- sunsets, hairstyles, cereal. You name it.
Tonight I made fish sandwiches for dinner. Fresh flounder dipped in egg/milk and dredged in flour/cornmeal friend until light golden brown. add lettuce, tomato, slice of cheese, homemade tartar sauce, carefully pile it on a bun next to some thick cut fries and sliced cucumbers and you've got dinner in Guyville.
Brian had a long hard day at work. He took one look at his dinner and his heart took flight. He informed me that my dinner should be on the cover of Gourmet magazine for a comfort food issue. I'm not holding my breath.
Truth be told, I've recently found it difficult to feel inspired when I cook. For the last few months, I don't have much of an appetite. Could it be the vitamin D I'm taking in the morning? I've never felt this way before. Cooking (like writing) has always been a creative endeavor for me. In the last year and a half, we gave in to too many hamburger and french fries requests from Ben (made at home or a nearby diner) and tried to ignore his rapidly shrinking food pyramid. My weekly menu hits all the major food groups but I've found myself avoiding more vegetarian based meals (other than pasta with veggies) because I'm too tired to fight the fight with him. That may have been a mistake. How do I dig myself out of it? I need beans in my life.
By the way, I love my black skillet. It is my favorite pan ever and always will be. My Italian grandma had a big black pan just like mine and I worshiped it. It holds a sacred space on my kitchen wall.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Friday, October 01, 2010
Although I have a working knowledge of world history, I am far from fluent. It's a shame really, because if I knew a bit more about Louis XIV, I would know how to deal with my son Benjamin.
The other night as he lay in bed making one royal pronouncement after another, I alerted him to a startling fact.
Me: "Benjamin, I don't want to shock you but YOU are not Louis XIV and I am not a benevolent old crone wandering around Versailles whose only purpose in life is to do your bidding."
Ben: "I understand Mommy but (fake tears)...life is terrible without my servants!"
Yes, it was a joke but I swear there was more than a thread of truth in those crocodile tears!!