Tag: Dinner

  • Doomsday Dinner Preppers

    (This has nothing to do with Doomsday, or Doomsday Preppers… I just like the way the title sounded.)

    Not that anyone is keeping score, but I am a stay at home parent, and, by the way, I really do enjoy it. But that’s not what this is about.

    As the primary care giver to my daughter, that means I am the go-to guy when it comes to getting her to soccer practice after school three days a week. It’s not a huge burden, and though it can be dicey getting to practice on time, it’s a good way to spend some time with the kid. But as the primary care giver, that means when we get home, I also have to get dinner going.

    Which brings me to prepping diner for my family. I’m not talking about anything complicated here, just getting all the ingredients ready ahead of time, sometimes in small efficient containers, so when we walk in the door, I can start making it.

    I have been doing this for a couple of weeks now, and I have to say that I get such a feeling of satisfaction of sweeping into the apartment, seamlessly moving into the kitchen, beginning dinner, chatting with the wife when she’s off’a work, and having everything ready within thirty minutes, give or take. I’m like John “Hannibal” Smith – “I love it when a plan comes together!”

    (Sorry if you are looking for dinner prepping tips… I have none other than buy more small ramekins.)

    It’s having the ability to reliably and dependably provide food that my family wants, night after night. It’s about making people you care about happy. And we can sit around the table and talk and connect, and be together.

    I know that I am not breaking new ground here, but I am a little surprised at home much I have come to enjoy cutting vegetables and measuring out herbs several hours ahead of time.

    I didn’t know I had it in me.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Lists Lists Lists, Dog Toys, and Lunch

    ODDS and ENDS: Lists Lists Lists, Dog Toys, and Lunch

    (All the things that come to you…)

    (Personally, I disagree with this A.I. created image as it did not incorporate Rodney Dangerfield.)

    It’s that time of year. The time when I get in into my head that over the kid’s Summer Vacation, I am going to get a crap ton of projects accomplished. There is so much work to do on this apartment that I am excited! No! I am THRILLED! Thrilled at the opportunity to get started and make this place feel like a home. Not that it doesn’t feel like a home – But I want it to be a home that smells like fresh paint! And to do this, I need LISTS! Ton’s of them! Some on my phone, some on my computer, some in my head, some in my wife’s head. I want to make a list of my LISTS! This is the only way I can keep track, and validate how I have spent my time this Summer! Ung! This is the season of the LIST! All Hail the List!

    We have had our dog for little over five years now. Besides the occasional peeing on the carpet, the dog has worked out fine. And as a good family who loves their dog, we buy her chew toys, usually around Christmas time, but also randomly throughout the year. As of this moment, the dog has nine chew toys, but really, she has a favorite three that she takes with her. They are her safety blanket. She sleeps with them, will bring them to us when she wants to play, or thinks we’re having a bad day. Like a kid, she’ll leave them in the middle of the floor, and become jealous when we try to pick them up. Oh, and they all smell awful. The odor is so completely vexing that smell the toy before you can place it’s location. Yet, not matter how awful the smell, we cannot throw them out. No, that would destroy the dog’s will to live. We’re not that cruel.

    Ah, lunch; the middle child of meals. Not as important as breakfast, not as flashy as dinner. Lunch, the meal that has to be gotten through – at least that’s how I thought of it when I was working outside of home. I ate often at my desk, scarfing down food because I had something that I needed to work on. Sure there was a business lunch from time to time, or meeting up with a friend, but those were rare. No, working lunch wasn’t full of enjoyment. Even now, in stay-at-home land, lunch is usually leftovers. (Though, my leftovers are pretty good – humble brag here on my cooking.) See, I can make a big breakfast for my family, as well as a big dinner; but when it comes to lunch, I feel the need to produce something to eat as fast as possible. Part of the reason is that I feel like there is something else I need to do, so I can’t put that much time and effort into this meal. Not that this sentiment is true, but it’s how it feels. Maybe lunch is more like Rodney Dangerfield.

  • Man, Am I Tired

    Not sure what happened. I went to bed at my normal-ish time last night. I did stay up and watch the Oscars, so maybe that had something to do with it.

    I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy the Oscars, but it has been over 15 years since I have seen all the best picture nominees, let alone half of them. But I am a movie fan, and I like the spectacle, and it is something fun to debate with friends, and I wanted to see what Conan would do. With all of that said, it was a rather dull affair. My kid wanted to stay up and watch it with me, which I agreed to, but she was out by 9pm.

    When the Oscars were over, and the kid off to bed, I started to watch Becket. I hadn’t seen it since high school, and I didn’t get too far into it. I found Peter O’Toole’s Henry II grating on my nerves, which I understand was the point. Then I thought about watching Lion in Winter, which is also about Henry II but at the end of his life and with succession being the driver of that plot. Though Lion in Winter is not a sequel to Becket, with O’Toole playing Henry II in both films, it sort of very loosely, kind’a is.

    I bring all of this up for no other reason than it occurred to me last night.

    And this morning, I just felt off. Very tired, a little anxious, and all around uneasy about myself and the day before me. The last time I felt like this was when I was working a particular job that I started to despise, and knew it was time for me to leave. But I couldn’t pin down why I was feeling this way, especially on a day like today.

    But there is a very harsh reality with being the age that I am and also having responsibilities of my family; I had to push through it. I had to make breakfast for the gang. I had to get people up and on their way. I had to do laundry and clean up. I had to making chicken stock for dinner, and lunch for the wife. In a little bit, I will take that chicken stock and tech my kid how to make Greek Lemon Soup.

    I just have to keep pushing through, but that feeling hasn’t gone away today.

  • ODDS and ENDS: The Dog Groomer, Fart in French, and Ice Cream

    (We’re all excited, but we don’t know why…)

    I love my dog. I always thought of myself as a cat person, but once we got the dog… well, I’m still a cat guy, but I do want to have a dog from here on out. And loving my dog, means loving all of her, including the bad stuff that she does. Which is very little, I might add. What the dog does that drives us nuts, and we haven’t been able to get her to stop, is that the dog goes ape-shit anytime she sees another dog. Like growling, and barking, and trying to break free from the leash so she can go and kill that other dog. It can make taking her for a walk a very challenging endeavor. Anyway, so when we take the dog to the groomers, the dog does her normal stuff when she sees the other dogs getting groomed, she goes bananas. So, we leave her, and when we come back to the groomers, they tell us how great of a dog she was; so kind, nice, and friendly. And we’ll ask if our dog was this nice version, even when other dogs were around, and the groomers tells us yes; that our dog was even friendly to the other dogs. This has happened enough times over the past five years, that I have come down to one of two conclusions; the groomers are telling us lies because no one wants to hear that their dog is an asshole, or our dog puts on this tough act in front of other dogs only when we’re around.

    My mother was a very proper woman. You had to really make her mad to swear, and she did embarrass easy. Yet, she raised three boys, and there was a lot of farting. BUT, my mother never said the word fart. No, that would be most improper. As she was raised in a French-American home, she did bring one, and only one, French term into our lives; péter. (That’s French for fart.) For the first several years of my life, I thought everyone also used the word péter. When I got to school, I learned quickly that no one used this word. Yet, the tern stuck with me, and in honor of my French heritage, I have made sure that my daughter knows that péter means fart in French.

    And, I want ice cream for dinner.