WHAT’S FOR DINNER?

NOTE: Sorry, this was supposed to be yesterday’s blog but for some reason (I think it was about deleting cookies) my computer wouldn’t let me log-in. So here’s yesterday’s worry, today.

TODAY’S WORRY

I‘m willing to say, I’m game (no pun intended), but I’m no great shakes as a cook. Every day the inevitable question arises, “what do you want to have for dinner?” It’s a question I dread more than actually making dinner. Hmmmmm, what did we have last night? As we become older, this becomes a more and more difficult question. Of course, it’s easy to remember last week, last month, last year or what we ate on our 10th anniversary, but last night? Say so long to short term memory. Well, I might say, I think we had asparagus last night, that’s probably an indicator of fish or chicken. Sweet potatoes, might be a steak or lamb. But sooner or later we’ve got it pinned down. Let’s see, last night we called China Garden for Moo Shu Vegetables and Monglian Beef, the night before we had what we affectionately call Big Chicken (Take it home tonight! Barbecued chicken from the supermarket.) Okay, the night before that was popcorn and wine, and the night before that we must have cooked something.

When we had kiddles in the house, Monday always meant chicken. Tuesday was a meatloafish kind of night. Macaroni and cheese, enhanced with peas and tuna, or not , ruled the roost on Wednesdays. Thursday was a guilty night. It was time to make a real meal; maybe pork chops or lamb chops but probably tacos. Friday, it’s weekend! If anybody was around to eat, frozen entrée seemed a good idea. A barbecue on Saturday and then we’re back to China Garden. And always, always, you must eat at the table and NO TELEVISION!

So now John and I are eating takeout, a salad, frozen eggplant parmesan, or some other easy entrée. Cooking is a sometime thing. It’s funny. In Utah, we cook all the time and never eat at tray tables by the TV but in CA we are poised with our forks, watching Hell’s Kitchen and wondering what’s for dinner tomorrow.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.