Maria likes my cooking. I think. I’m pretty sure she’s not THAT good an actress and lord knows I’VE never cleaned my plate when something didn’t taste good.
Is it weird that I’m concerned about whether or not she likes my cooking? Or that I seem to be thinking of menus to prepare? And that I might have some anxiety about this? (A little. But more than is necessary I’m sure.)
Actually, cooking together these past few days has been kinda interesting. We pick what to eat, and if it’s something she’s comfortable with, she jumps right in (so awesome) and adds her little flair to it. Sometimes I’ll make something she has NO familiarity with and the look on her face is priceless.
For instance, I have a rockin’ recipe for Guilt Free Caesar dressing…made with tofu.
(DON’T knock it, folks. It’s AWESOME and I hate tofu.)
Maria had never seen tofu before and for the life of me I couldn’t begin to describe to her (in Spanish, no less) what tofu was and how it worked. I told her “protein”, which she understood, and hoped for the best. But I could tell part of her was thinking “WTF?!”
She ate 3 helpings.
Thursday, I have a meeting that will run until (or after 5) and I’ve asked her to help Husband with cooking dinner. Whatever she wanted. So, we made a list. All I know is that this meal requires rice (natch), steak cutlets of some kind, poultry seasoning (for the rice) and a few other things we currently own in the pantry.
Husband is a bit skeptical. I can’t wait to see.
And it’ll give my brain and all its menu planning a rest already. Because at this point? I don’t need anything else making me tired.