Thursday, July 5, 2012

Wasting My Time Cooking.

One thing I can do fairly well is cook. I took an interest at 22, after I moved out of my house. My roommate threw elaborate dinner parties; I discovered it was an easy way to lure girls to the apartment. I later found out my roommate had some serious alcohol problems, but that's another story.

wasting my time cookingAs an Italian American, I was raised on a reasonably healthy diet to begin with; there was always a a big bowl of fruit to snack on during the day; every night we ate salad, a starch and a green vegetable, besides whatever meat my mom prepared. She was a good cook, and the fact that my dad was a butcher guaranteed good cuts of beef.

I succeeded in getting women into my bed when I was younger with an elegant meal and a nice bottle of wine, but that wasn't my sole motivation. I like to eat well, and derive enjoyment from preparing the food as well. Some fresh seafood, good music, a glass of wine, and some company--I find it fun to make dinner.

My son is finicky, but I know kids a lot worse. My daughter is much more adventurous, with a broader palette. All the food I buy is fresh, nothing processed. I wish I could buy more organic, but I can't afford it. Because I'm doing the single parent thing for the summer, I cook every night--no biggie. I just hate making an effort for nothing.

I often work in the late afternoon/early evening, then come home and prepare dinner. The children have been sleeping and breakfasting late, then eating a late lunch, which breaks the rhythm for dinner. I refuse to prepare lunch for them during the summer, and keep telling them to make a sandwich themselves, but they're too lazy and just eat whatever is available, especially if there's snack food laying around (while ignoring the ubiquitous bowl of fruit).

Tonight I specifically told my daughter at 5 pm not to eat anything while I was gone, and told my son to walk the dog and play his baritone. When I returned at 7:30, I started boiling fresh Chinese soba noodles, while sauteeing a pesto, sour cream and cherry-tomato sauce. My daughter wandered over to the stove, and informed she had eaten all the leftover chicken wings from two days earlier, and wasn't interested in dinner. My son took about three bites from his plate and said he wasn't hungry. After flatly stating three times that "I'm just not hungry," he finally admitted that he ate a quart of strawberry yogurt after I left. Wonder how many days that empty yogurt container will sit in his room now... I also discovered he's been jury-rigging his computer to stay on after the five-hour time limit expires, which I've warned him not to do.

So I blew my top and screamed at both of them. They asked me what the big deal was, and told me to calm down. The big deal is that even when I specifically ask or warn them not to do something, they do it anyway, as soon as I leave the house.

Makes me want to not cook at all, and let them fend for themselves.

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