In the Kitchen
What do you get when you combine the Food Network, multiple trips to the grocery store and my husband? Ordinarily, I would say “trouble.” Tonight, it was awesome. My wonderful husband decided to go surfing on the net to find something for dinner tonight. Something to surprise me and the kids. Something different and fun.
You have to know, right up front, that feeding me and the kids, isn’t the easiest thing in the world. Me, I’m a picky eater. Vegetables? I’ll eat a few, and I’m better than I used to be, but for the most part, they are not my thing. The kids? As long as it has peanut butter, jelly or cheese spread upon it, all is right in the world. My husband on the other hand, has an adventurous soul. He has a zest for life and an iron belly. A dangerous combination indeed. He’ll try anything once. And, most of the time, he’s happy eating absolutely anything. He eats my cooking, so that’s a testimonial in itself. But that’s a story for another day.
Tonight, after a mad dash through the grocery store for items such as yeast, bell pepper, feta cheese, bacon and wine, I was a little nervous. The kids were oblivious to these items, because I picked up chocolate ice cream, so they knew mom at least had dessert covered.
We go home and unpack the groceries, and more interesting items are pulled from the shelves. Jon has decided to let the kids in on the secret – we’re making pizza. The kids are jazzed and ready for action. The hands are washed and sleeves are rolled up – it’s time to make a mess in the kitchen. Cool, they say.
As I disappear to start my mountain of laundry, Jon and the kids starting making dough. Yes, I said making the dough. I love Jon for this. He’s totally into making things from scratch now, and loving every minute of it. As I pass through the kitchen, our 11 year old son is calling out measurements from the online recipe. Our six year old daughter is sitting on the kitchen counter asking daddy “can I stir, can I hold it, can I…” She’s up to her elbows in flour and giggling as only six year olds can. The big kid, my husband, is also grinning from ear to ear, because he too is in hog heaven. What a picture this makes. To see my husband beaming in his element, is wonderful. Our son is preparing the veggies. “How’s this size, dad?” Looks great! “Is this big enough?” Yep, but don’t cut your thumb off, you might need it one day. Then he starts on the onion and I hear “Dad, my eyes are hurting really bad!” Okay, I’ll do that part. I tell him, it’s okay sweetie, onions always make me cry too.
A while later, we’re all at the table with hunks of dough, piles of flour, and giggles. Pounding, tossing, crunching and smushing – we have our little mini pizzas ready for the oven. It was difficult not to start a flour war, as I often do, but deep down inside, I knew I was too tired to clean up the mess.
While the dough bakes, we finish the toppings. The kitchen looks like Emeril has stopped by – piles of spinach, ham, chicken, feta cheese, mozzarella, tomatoes, bell pepper, onions, pepperoni, tomato sauce and alfredo sauce. Did I mention the chopped pecans?
Before long, we’re piling our little baked pizza crusts with mountains of toppings, for one more quick run through the oven. I’m proud of our son -he’s trying new things – sprinkles of bacon, feta cheese, pepperoni and tomatoes. Jon is making a masterpiece with spinach, alfredo sauce, bell peppers, pecans and mozarella, and after than I lost count. My chicken, spinach, alfredo and feta cheese combo was spectacular. Our daughter’s pepperoni, cheese and tomato even looked awesome. We did good. Really good. But all the credit goes to my husband. Without his creativity and zest for life, we would have had boring tacos for dinner. Instead, we had adventure, laughter and a wonderful dinner. The kids were beaming because they made their own pizzas. They were even helping with dishes without being asked. If that’s not good, I don’t know what is.
By the way, in case your wondering what the wine went into, that’s easy. Me.
that most definately did not reflect where we were. In all fairness, the second night was not as bad, but for me that damage was already done. Because of the impossible walking situation (going from one concert to another would take the entire time of the concert), we missed Casting Crowns and Mercy Me – two of the main reasons we went.
