One meatloaf, one soup and one pie. 

November 7, 2016

Dear Baby,

This afternoon when Abegail (your nanny) went to grab you from your nap and brought you downstairs to see me you had a look of genuine surprise. Surprised to see mama in the kitchen? Cooking!! Real food!!!! 

That is the exact reason I have decided to go on a cooking tip and learn how to make some damn food. Because you should not be shocked to see me make something*

*obviously I know that you were not really shocked to see me cooking and that you could have been making a fart for all I know. But still, my point remains the same. 

So today I tried a couple of dishes from my moms fan favourite cookbook, Heart Smart by Bonnie Stern. As usual I decided to not just do one small thing but a lot of big things so suffice to say it was a several hot endeavour. 

I made a soup (well I actually had made a soup last night that turned out so well that I made some more to add to it since we ate most of it for dinner yesterday) and it was a pretty easy/ fool proof soup that was fucking delicious. You bought it was so delicious until you didn’t and then decided to fling your hands on horror at the spoon as if I was feeding you rusty razors instead of fucking awesome lentil soup. I’ll try not to take it personally. 

Then I made a meatloaf. A chicken meatloaf. It came out kind of weird and had a consistency more similar to stuffing than meatloafs I have had before but who the fuck knows. It could have just as well been perfect. Unsure. It tasted pretty good and your great grandmother who eats nothing liked it so that’s something. 

I cut up sweet potato to roast but minus the knife, you could basically do that so I can’t really take a lot of credit for that. 

Finally, and most awesomely, I made a crisp. It was the fucking bomb. I’m sorry that we ate it all because I’m sure you would have lost your mind for it. Mind you, you lose your mind for applesauce so do you need crisp? Probs not. Save that sugar for the grown ups who also don’t need it. 

Will you remember me as the chef of the house when you are grown up? I doubt it but if you even had one thing (not including eggs or kraft dinner) that you are all like, oh my mom makes the best _____, I will keep trying out random recipes until the cows come home. 

Oh, and here’s a lesson: when your dad (who IS the chef of the house) asks you if you want to learn how to make something, say yes. Learning to cook while a tiny little peanut face is begging you to come play robot is NOT FUN. I’d always rather play robot. 



One meatloaf, one soup and one pie. 

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