Eating Better
I was late coming home on Friday and my wife was as well.
We did the dinner call about an hour after we should've been eating dinner.
Don't you wish you had the time back from the usual dinner banter. The 'what do you want to do?' stuff. The hardest part of making dinner is deciding what everyone wants to eat. My parents did it differently. We ate what was on the menu.
It was usually great.
"Did you take anything out?" I asked.
Since I was coming from out of town the prep work had to be done by someone else.
"Nope."
"What did the kids eat?"
"Chicken fries, probably," my beautiful wife said. "You want a sub?"
"I suppose."
So, I woke up Saturday morning with better eating on my mind. We'd been serving up too many fast meals during the course of the week although they had a roast when I was out on the road.
So, the fun started.
In an hours time on Saturday morning I marinaded steaks, peeled potatoes, made meatballs, started the sauce, got some ribs ready, made breakfast for the boys, and fried some peppers and onions so that I could slop them on every sandwich I eat in the next five days.
Beautiful.
As I was doing it I kept thinking of my brothers and sisters, off in their own little corners doing the same sort of thing.
Chopping onions, slicing garlic, pouring the olive oil.
I'm not sure that it's going to go down a generation as it was passed to us.
My boys certainly appreciate a good meal, but none of them has quite shown the ambition to actually do the work.
Maybe it's all about watching it being done. Perhaps they will jump on it when it's their turn to present it to their families.
I hope so.
Rumor has it that Matt has been cooking for his friends at St. Bonaventure.
Let's just hope it's not chicken fries and mac & cheese.
The steaks were great.
The sauce was perfect.
And the plan is to make the dinner plans for the rest of the week, well in advance.
I have a feeling there will be a call somewhere down the line:
"What do you want for dinner?"
We did the dinner call about an hour after we should've been eating dinner.
Don't you wish you had the time back from the usual dinner banter. The 'what do you want to do?' stuff. The hardest part of making dinner is deciding what everyone wants to eat. My parents did it differently. We ate what was on the menu.
It was usually great.
"Did you take anything out?" I asked.
Since I was coming from out of town the prep work had to be done by someone else.
"Nope."
"What did the kids eat?"
"Chicken fries, probably," my beautiful wife said. "You want a sub?"
"I suppose."
So, I woke up Saturday morning with better eating on my mind. We'd been serving up too many fast meals during the course of the week although they had a roast when I was out on the road.
So, the fun started.
In an hours time on Saturday morning I marinaded steaks, peeled potatoes, made meatballs, started the sauce, got some ribs ready, made breakfast for the boys, and fried some peppers and onions so that I could slop them on every sandwich I eat in the next five days.
Beautiful.
As I was doing it I kept thinking of my brothers and sisters, off in their own little corners doing the same sort of thing.
Chopping onions, slicing garlic, pouring the olive oil.
I'm not sure that it's going to go down a generation as it was passed to us.
My boys certainly appreciate a good meal, but none of them has quite shown the ambition to actually do the work.
Maybe it's all about watching it being done. Perhaps they will jump on it when it's their turn to present it to their families.
I hope so.
Rumor has it that Matt has been cooking for his friends at St. Bonaventure.
Let's just hope it's not chicken fries and mac & cheese.
The steaks were great.
The sauce was perfect.
And the plan is to make the dinner plans for the rest of the week, well in advance.
I have a feeling there will be a call somewhere down the line:
"What do you want for dinner?"
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