If I find something that works, no matter how UNfancy, I go with it. Our Whimsy Family pasta sauce is a great example of this philosophy. It is as UNfancy as UNfance can get. A jar of pasta sauce, a couple of special additions thanks to ingenious Chip, serve over pasta of choice. ENJOY.
Eating leftover pasta (let's call it day-old pasta, shall we?) is one of the finer pleasures in life. At least I think so. I don't know what it is: the pasta soaking in the sauce overnight in the refrigerator--- it becomes something sublime. My favorite way to enjoy Day Old Pasta is in a cereal bowl, heated in the microwave for 2 minutes. Two slices of buttered bread on the side. Commence eating by spooning bits of the pasta onto the bread and eat. DELICIOUS. DELECTABLE. AMBROSIA. Words that do not understate my enjoyment.
I am usually Alice's Designated Food Service Person. (If you're feeling UNfancy -like UNfancy food-, you might just say that I'm usually the one to feed Alice. Whatever.) Anyway. "Feeding Alice her dinner" is misleading. It's mostly about handing bits of things to Alice and waiting for her to eat them (or not). Then there's the bits that she decides she no longer wants cluttering her work surface (read: tray). She'll gather the bits in her fist and then wave down the Designated Feeder (read: me) to retrieve the bits and whisk them away. It can be a full service gig, though I usually try to multi-task. She knows when I'm not paying particular attention and does everything she can to remedy that by talking to me or asking me for things or by repeatedly throwing pea-size bites of food at my head. You know, whatever works. My favorite thing she does is ask for more. I love expression of need, the way she points to the palm of her hand and says MO, MO, MO. I love that she usually can tell me what she wants MO of, her pointing at the toast or the last green bean or a chicken nugget. It almost makes up for the sheer exhaustion from the 47 trips to the kitchen and back.
Last night I was enjoying Whimsy's Day Old Pasta and also performing my duties as Dinner Waitstaff to Bean. It was not a good mix of duties. The pasta needed my focused adoration, as did Bean. I tried to split my time: a stir of the pasta, a deep breath of its tomatoey goodness, scoop onto buttered bread, bite, smile and swallow--- cough, cough as Alice demands more green beans, stand up, push back chair, take steps to refrigerator, grab more beans to convey back to the Bean, sit and repeat. After a few rounds I decided to just gobble down the pasta, ignore the bliss, just eat the food so I could focus on getting Bean to eat some yogurt. I was not happy about it, but I did it anyway. I might have done some grumbling as I scooped yogurt to her waiting mouth. As she took a bite, she gathered up the crumbs on her tray and handed them to me, "ALL DEN" she smiled, waiting for me to take the crumbs from her hand. I couldn't believe it. Here I RUSHED to finish my dinner and she's DONE? NOW? Maybe she saw the look on my face, the fact that I wasn't so very happy about the turn of events, but she waited until I was leaning in close enough to grab the crumbs from her hand--- I asked her, "You're really all done?" And she tilted her head, smiled, and then sort of whispered in this excited secret voice "APPLE!"
"You want an apple?" I couldn't help but smile.
"APPLE!" she answered.
I got her some apple.
She ate two bites.
It was still awesome.
You guys, I'm feeling very... simultaneously empty and full. I don't know where to go with it. And I know that there have been a million stops and starts at The Creamery in the last few months. So at the risk of sounding very full of myself, I wanted to open the floor for questions. Any question. You ask, I'll answer. Want to know what happened on Halloween itself and if we ever went trick or treating (hardly interesting---- the answer is NO, and WE ATE CHILI AND WATCHED A MOVIE, but see you'd do so much better with the questions than I would. So that's it. Ask me anything, I'll post on Monday with some answers. Go!
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6 comments:
Can I just say that the round of feeding the Boy is the MOST exhausting part of my days?
Last night, Samwise called to chat about her induction and I told her, Dude. Just enjoy your meals now. Enjoy not having to share everything on your plate, enjoy the peace and quiet, eat as slowly as you want, watch something while you eat, have a REAL conversation over dinner, whatever. Meals, will never be the same.
I want a Whimsy and Chip story from the EARLY days. The before you were Married days. The days that I missed. A fun and odd date, your first kiss, the first time you knew he was YOUR MAN, whatever you feel like sharing. I'm feeling nostalgic and in the mood for a flashback.
I would like to know how you organize your books, and whether you have strong opinions about baking pans/ingredients, and what other names you considered for Alice (including boy names). I would like to know how long your hair is now, how many children you guess you will have, how long you think you will live, and what's next on your reading list.
I want to know what the OTHER rules are, now that we have food rules.
Are there drink rules?
Sewing rules?
Playdate rules?
Holiday rules?
Man, maybe Swistle should just give us all blog topics for good. Her questions are great!
I want to ask what are the first three things you remember wanting to "be" when you grew up? Did you always want to be a mom? If you had an all expense trip paid to a lovely beach resort for one week but could only go alone (no husband or child), would you do it? What is the most unhealthy snack you eat on a (semi) consistent basis?
I'm with Swistle on the name questions (though I'll never share mine since they're in my pocket waiting for future children) I also want to know what profession you would like to have worked in an alternate life where schooling and "being good at" that subject don't really matter. I'd also like to know what kind of old person you see yourself as and what kind of places you like to live in. I would also enjoy a worst vacation experience story as well. Glad I didn't miss the chance to throw my questions into the hat.
Dearest Whimsical Friend.. I have been away from your blog for a while. I apologize for that. When i did stop by, I see this post. The pasta sauce got me immediately.
You see, I am a full blood Italian and I never ever eat pasta sauce from a jar. We make our own. I will send you, (and any of your readers if they are interested), a recipe to make what we call Italian Gravy, a smooth meat flavored tomato sauce for pasta, (also works wonderfully as a pizza sauce). If you don't eat meat, I also make a marinara tomato sauce and will share the recipes.
Children must sense what we are up to when they are with us and sitting at the table or in the living room watching TV while they are playing. After all, they are there, you are there, it is interaction. In the eating scenario you describe, such playful behavior with the food is nothing more than she-doesn't-have-to-pay-for-it-and-thinks-it-all-comes-too-easy. As she matures, she'll get the hang of it and she'll get up and get her own apples and drink out of the carton, she'll make her own pb&j on yucky bread and smear pb&j everywhere before she keeps it in the lines, (crust edges of the so called yucky poured batter bread).
My Mom cleaned up after me, and now I do it all by myself. Didn't you?
No questions except this: How are you and the family? Okay I hope.
Peace.
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