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!