You’re probably reading this while my parents are here. I said they could come over at a reasonable hour, like 9am. I don’t think they classify 9am as morning, but I do. *yawns*
I’ve been clever, and prepared 98% of the food in advance. You are so proud of me.
I’ll make some scrambled eggs, ham, and toast around 11, which will be our lunch, and maybe they’ll eat too. You never can tell with these people. They’re too polite to tell you they’re hungry.
Telling them I cook every day, often twice a day, doesn’t convince them that I don’t mind cooking. I mastered cooking for six to eight a long time ago, and did it for so long, it took me almost a year to stop pulling too many plates out every night and even longer to stop buying two pounds of beef for chili. No matter how much your family loves chili, they will get sick of it. Eventually.
Anyway, after that I plan to starve my children until their daddy gets home for dinner. Then I’m going to fry up some green maters. But in the fridge, I have deli meats, cheeses, pickles, olives, Israeli salad, cottage cheese, grapes, cantaloupe, blueberries, and pineapple. I shall lay out a loaf of bread and a veritable smorgasbord of noms.
I even bought the paper plates my dad likes, because when he comes, he always gasps at the amount of dishes and asks why we don’t use paper plates, and I suppose I have given up explaining that it’s not fiscally or environmentally responsible to use so many paper plates. It just makes me sound like such a tree-hugging, bleeding heart liberal, doesn’t it?
We’re still going to use cloth napkins, though, and that’s that.
For dessert, there’s angel food cake, sugared strawberries, and vanilla ice cream. I even have a bit of whipping cream in there, but I don’t know that I should go to all the trouble to put the cream in the mixer and slide the lever.
I suppose I’m as predictable to them as they are to me…
So I thought maybe I’d have a little fun this year. A little fun with the predictability.
Virtually every time I post a food pic, my mother goes on about it. But then, when I get the woman on the phone and ask her what she’d like to eat while she’s with me, she says, “Somethin simple, please.”
If you come to my house, be prepared to demand food, okay? Sitting around thinking about food to cook is a bee in my bonnet. My family endures the request for menu ideas weekly. Inevitably, it has long been like this:
The Mister: Food.
Bubba: Meatloaf! Ribs! Curry!
Sissy: Fried chicken.
Sassy: Spaghetti. Mmm, spaghetti.
Moo: Moo Stew! No, that stuff with the things and the corn, like potato soup? Oh, potato soup! Those things with the avocado and the green stuff. Not the cilantro, that other green stuff. I like those. And those wraps with the red things in the jar. Chickyaki! Curry! I’ll make naan! Challah! Challah French toast! How about Pancakes? Ooh, how about the quinoa chicken things with baby carrots? Do we have baby carrots? Are there any butter beans? Biscuits and gravy! We should have melon night like we have cheese night! BLTs! Israeli salad! Tortellini soup! Tuna pasta! Potato salad! Tacos! Peanut butter pie!
Have something in mind. Be more Moo and less The Mister, k?
My friend Shay said yes, do this, and screenshot the results.
My mother, she is so gracious, non?
The Southern is strong in her. Willing to cook all day on her vacation. Bless her heart.
I almost feel badly about sharing this naughtiness with you. I may actually leave the coasters out instead of watching them panic over where to set their drinks.
What quirky unspoken family traditions do you have?