I thoroughly enjoy cooking, but I'm not a "foodie." When I get in the kitchen to create, I make good, familiar food: Italian, barbecue, and close enough to authentic Southern to taste good but not actually kill you. I don't often branch out into exotic dishes that involve, say, eggplant and saffron.
The other day, I was feeling bold and creative. I found a bottle of red cooking wine in our pantry. (Surely this gives you an idea of how unsurprising my cooking is, if red wine is a daring choice.) I made up a red-wine-honey-rosemary sauce, poured it over chicken breasts, and let it simmer. August, I knew, would be most impressed.
My children were not. Ladybug wandered into the kitchen and wrinkled her nose. "What do I SMELL?" I am still training my children that criticizing Mama's cooking is walking really close to the death penalty. I snapped, "It's not for you. I'm cooking broccoli for you and Titan." They love broccoli (bragging here) with butter and dill weed.
Not deflected, Ladybug wailed, "It smells like mud soup!"
"Get out of the kitchen."
A few minutes later, as the savory aroma and red wine and rosemary filled the kitchen, Titan ran through.
A word about Titan. He's lucky that he isn't known on this blog as "Upchucky." This child has always had a massive gag reflex. Before Titan was born, I had a horror of vomit. Thanks to him, that's a fear I've confronted and conquered. It's getting better as he gets older, but I'm looking forward to turning the care and cleaning of him over to his wife.
So, Titan ran through the kitchen. "Something smells bad!" he wailed.
"Go out of the kitchen!"
Titan clapped a hand over his nose, ran into the back room with the new carpet, and... threw up.
So the chicken almost burned while I desperately scrubbed regurgitated goldfish crackers from the new carpet (vinegar and water does the trick). I saved supper in time for August to come home and say, "Mm, something smells good!"
I banged a few pans around. Meanwhile, Ladybug strolled in. "Do you smell that, Daddy? What we're having for supper is broccoli and something that won't taste very good."
August made Ladybug apologize to me. The next night I made pizza.
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6 comments:
A husband who says, "Mm, something smells good!" is a valuable thing indeed!
Yes, it is, and I'm afraid I have a lot of work to do before Titan is up to standard in that area.
Gosh, don't you love how diplomatic small children can be? :p
At least your husband appreciates your cooking. He sounds like a keeper.
I had to stop mid-cooking the other day, first to scrub up black crayon off the ENTIRE KITCHEN FLOOR HOW THE HECK DID THAT HAPPEN and then to rescue Addy after she followed me outside in her stocking feet and sunk ankle deep in mud. The dinner survived, but we ate it in relative silence.
AAAAHhHahahahahaHAahaha!
I am sure it wasn't funny at the time; In fact, I might have been mad for hours.
But, it is just the teensy bit hilarious. Yeah?
Well, the thing about blogging is that what normally would be infuriating suddenly becomes good blog material, which channels energy in a positive way. :)
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