The son had to experience the ultimate humiliation for a 15-year-old boy. He had to go out in public, at a public event, and be seen in public, with not just his mom, but also his gregarious and really funny Aunt/Godmother, her two kids, the Aunt's good friend visiting from out of town and her four-year-old "cowboy" - who apparently every day dresses himself in full cowboy regalia. Hat and boots. The works. He is adorable. Cowboy Boy was I think the only highlight for the son to make this event not the complete kiss of death he expected it to be.
Knowing full well what his reaction would be, I waited until late in the day on Saturday to mention. "Uh, yea, well, we're all going out to dinner and then we're all going out after to a play. Like a musical." (And there was a University of Texas football game on that night too.)
I will not tell him, but I did see him crack a smile a few times during the performance. It's too bad the full gamut of Olivia Newton John schmaltzy 1980s stuff was lost on him (it was Xanadu at Zachary Scott Theatre). But he's lucky my sister/his aunt and her friend were not on their A game. We neglected to wear any sort of costume at all. Sequined headbands would have been just the right subtle thing.
As a thank you for him, for tolerating the event (He: "Did I have a choice?"), I said I would actually cook. Something real. I almost went for the Pioneer Woman Lasagna .... but then, because Sunday was an all-day rainy day, breakfast for dinner sounded right. He nodded pretty enthusastically at that option. Pioneer Woman has a Sour Cream Pancakes recipe that would accomplish two purposes for me (i) get the son to eat something he loves with an ingredient he generally hates (sour cream); and (ii) try another recipe out of this really great cookbook.
Ingredients: mostly sour cream; 2 eggs, some vanilla, just 7 T of flour. Seriously very little. The kicker though is to cook them on a griddle with sizzling melted butter. Just like she says.
I set out on the son's white plate, these three beautiful pancakes, a light crust from the butter on the outside. I said: "They look a little dark just from the sizzling around the edges in the butter." He nodded. As if to say, yea, right.
On the hard core Garden of Eden salad eating regime these days, I could not help it. Right before he made his appearance, I had to have a bite. Just a bite of the smallest of those 3 still remaining crispy-on-the-outside-slightly tart/tender/very fluffy-on-the-inside pancakes.
The one bite was so good I had to grab the closest bottle of open red wine for a quick pour and gulp to erase forever the memory of how amazing that one bite of the sour cream pancake was. I told the son I was pretty sure he was going to like these.
He dug in. His eyes went wide open - like in shock - and he looked up and said to me, amazed, and loudly, while the pancakes were like still in transit in quick succession for bites two and three: "These are REALLY GOOD." And then he asked if there were more before he was even done. I could only imagine how they tasted bathed lovingly in a coating of just warm enough (fake) maple syrup.
Me, I had a salad.
I added grilled chicken to it.
The next day, at Whole Foods downtown at the intersection of death at 5th and Lamar, I had a salad that could have fed a family of 8. If only I could have such an array of vegetables available at every meal: beets, shredded carrots and cabbage and zucchini, curried cauliflower, green beans, edamame, eggs, cheese, toasted chicken--protein of all kinds--and everything bright and shiny and shredded already. A salad bar at home. That's what I need.
As the Internet was out at the office, I went mobile office for the day. So in the two hours I had to kill/work there at Whole Foods, after I had been at the Starbucks on the other corner for an hour previously, I slowly worked my way through this not petite salad. It was not as great as it looks, I have to say. A little too much curried cauliflower, my fault, but doing without dressing meant I needed something to save the day.
I should get out more. Though I guess leaving for France in a week counts. But Whole Foods now has this Artisan Cookie Bar. Right next to the Salad Bar(s).
That is just wrong.
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