Tuesday, November 03, 2015

Home cooked meal.

I love to cook. Let me rephrase that, I love to cook alone. I love to have others enjoy what I have prepared in the kitchen with no one underfoot. Most of the time, there are many people underfoot. I decided to cook a meal with a notebook close by so I could record just a few fun facts about our meal time prep.

I had to run to the grocery store for carrots. Just carrots. They are essential to one of my favorite meals. Upon returning home, Sean had some of the kids outside cleaning dog doo off the garage floor. He was super happy about that whole experience.

"Where's Jude?" I asked.
"He just went inside," he replied.

In the 30 seconds to 1 minute that he was unsupervised, he found my makeup bag.

Thus began the dinner hour. He used my eye liner to gouge out my packed powder. It's now very unpacked. He managed to rub concealer and lipstick all over his face and poke one dab of mascara onto his cheek.

After scrubbing his hands clean(I left his face, who cares?), I began pulling food from the refrigerator. The first step to this meal is throwing an onion in the food processor. As I'm pulsing it to a fine chop, Jude brought me an onion peel from the trash.

"It's a fwower, Mom. Sniff it. It's a fwower. MOM! SNIFF! IT!" All this as he's scootching the stool across the kitchen floor, screetch, scratch, screeeeeeeeeetch to the sink. He decided the flower needed water. He soaked the kitchen floor and got bored with the sink. As I cleaned the water up, he found my wallet and emptied it. Awesome.

As I cleaned up the wallet contents, he took advantage of the stool still close to the sink, scootched it to the food prep area and started to lick the raw biscuit dough off the spoon. My fault. I decided to load what dishes I could/should. As the dishwasher was open and blocking all forms of counterly trouble, he decided to see if there were any flowers under the raw chicken trays I had just thrown away. Another round of hand washing.

I push the trash all the way down to dissuade the little dumpster diver. Not a minute later, "I break-a egg shells, Mom. Wook! I good at cracking eggs." Another round of hand washing.

I'm to the point of the meal that the stove top is hot so I'm constantly pushing him out of the kitchen. Every time I go to the fridge or pantry for an ingredient, he tries to get me to hold him. He snatched a piece of my apron and got mad because he couldn't get to my belly. He's all about patting my belly.

Once he started climbing into the cupboards, I stopped shooing him out. Until the second kid came in and started climbing in cupboards. A game of tag is only second best to hide and seek. Somehow the honey bear joined the game and Jude nailed Titus in the head. With a bear full of honey. How does this happen? To make matters hilarious, Titus was more sticky than injured, but the whole debacle got Jude sympathy crying pitifully.

By that point, the rolls were in the oven, the chicken and rice were simmering, and I was wondering why we can't be like every other American and just eat at McDonalds for dinner. I'll answer the why with a picture and a recipe...

Chicken and rice: 
 Do yourself a flavor and make them both. I make the chicken dish at least 3 times a month. nomnomnom

1 comment:

Jude said...

those rolls look AMAZING!!!