Thursday, September 03, 2009
It's Stepfamily Crazy Day!
The kids were bored and pissy today, so when I started cooking dinner, but DS and H wanted to help. DS, 8, has helped many times, and loves to cook. H, 7, loves to help, but has been hamstrung by her mother into believing that everything is dangerous. While we started getting out all the things we needed, she saw the chef's knife I got out and jumped back with huge, saucer-eyes, and said, "WHOA!" DS wanted to use it to cut up the sausage, but I told him that it would get all gunky after a couple of cuts from all the fat in the sausage, so it was better if he used a smaller knife, to help keep better control. H informed me that she's not allowed to use a knife (we've had this issue before--Sea Hag doesn't understand why we won't move all of our sharp knives onto a high shelf in the kitchen so that H doesn't "accidentally touch one"). "I couldn't cut a banana, it's too dangerous." Here I was thinking that a banana would be the perfect food to practice using a knife for little hands...
I showed DS how to cut the sausage so that it would all be about the same size, and then had H help me get out the pots and spices and other ingredients we'd be needing. I quickly chopped some carrots, part of an onion, and spinach while she watched in amazement at how fast I could do it. I showed her how to measure the pasta, then we scooped out some soup base into a measuring cup, added some water, and let her mix it up. By then, DS was done with the sausage, so I put it into the soup pot that was heating up on the stove. I let H get a spoonful of chopped garlic out of the jar and add it to the cooking sausage. She and DS took turns stirring the sausage, and when it was finally done, I took it out of the pot, and then added the chopped carrots and onions to saute in the fat left behind from the sausage. I turned on another burner to start the pasta pot boiling. Once the carrots got soft, I added a couple splashes of red wine to deglaze the bottom of the pot. Everything came up nicely, and the wine quickly started to reduce. [Getting hungry yet?] We added the sausage back in, then the soup base and water. When the pasta water was finally boiling again, H poured the pasta in.
By then it was time for her mom to come pick her up, so we started getting her stuff ready. She held her arm up and proclaimed that she had burned her arm. There was a small pink patch on her forearm, but then again, she was vigorously rubbing at it, too. I tried to get her to put some ice, or a cold glass of water against it, but she claimed it didn't help. She wasn't in the least bit upset, just sort of obsessively rubbing the spot. I've had enough burns in my life to know there's no one on this planet that would try to rub a real burn. I knew it was all just drama for the upcoming appearance of Mother.
But we had to finish dinner! The pasta was done, the bread had been heated in the oven, the spinach tossed into the pot, and it was time to EAT. DD proclaimed the soup "Completely Nommable". I'm just glad there's leftovers. Yummy!
And sure enough, not 15 minutes after they left, Sea Hag was calling Rusty to chew him out for letting H cook. "What if she pulled that whole pot of hot water onto herself!?!?" This woman really thinks her child is a moron. "You just need to THINK ABOUT THESE THINGS!!"
Right, because having raised two kids myself, I couldn't possibly understand what kids are capable of. And being a professionally trained and certified chef, I couldn't possibly understand what dangers lurk in the kitchen.
Lucky for me, Rusty doesn't take her squawking seriously anymore. He let her yammer on and on and mindlessly gave the "Yes dear" response she wanted to hear, and then told me to keep doing whatever I feel is safe and appropriate.
The kids were bored and pissy today, so when I started cooking dinner, but DS and H wanted to help. DS, 8, has helped many times, and loves to cook. H, 7, loves to help, but has been hamstrung by her mother into believing that everything is dangerous. While we started getting out all the things we needed, she saw the chef's knife I got out and jumped back with huge, saucer-eyes, and said, "WHOA!" DS wanted to use it to cut up the sausage, but I told him that it would get all gunky after a couple of cuts from all the fat in the sausage, so it was better if he used a smaller knife, to help keep better control. H informed me that she's not allowed to use a knife (we've had this issue before--Sea Hag doesn't understand why we won't move all of our sharp knives onto a high shelf in the kitchen so that H doesn't "accidentally touch one"). "I couldn't cut a banana, it's too dangerous." Here I was thinking that a banana would be the perfect food to practice using a knife for little hands...
I showed DS how to cut the sausage so that it would all be about the same size, and then had H help me get out the pots and spices and other ingredients we'd be needing. I quickly chopped some carrots, part of an onion, and spinach while she watched in amazement at how fast I could do it. I showed her how to measure the pasta, then we scooped out some soup base into a measuring cup, added some water, and let her mix it up. By then, DS was done with the sausage, so I put it into the soup pot that was heating up on the stove. I let H get a spoonful of chopped garlic out of the jar and add it to the cooking sausage. She and DS took turns stirring the sausage, and when it was finally done, I took it out of the pot, and then added the chopped carrots and onions to saute in the fat left behind from the sausage. I turned on another burner to start the pasta pot boiling. Once the carrots got soft, I added a couple splashes of red wine to deglaze the bottom of the pot. Everything came up nicely, and the wine quickly started to reduce. [Getting hungry yet?] We added the sausage back in, then the soup base and water. When the pasta water was finally boiling again, H poured the pasta in.
By then it was time for her mom to come pick her up, so we started getting her stuff ready. She held her arm up and proclaimed that she had burned her arm. There was a small pink patch on her forearm, but then again, she was vigorously rubbing at it, too. I tried to get her to put some ice, or a cold glass of water against it, but she claimed it didn't help. She wasn't in the least bit upset, just sort of obsessively rubbing the spot. I've had enough burns in my life to know there's no one on this planet that would try to rub a real burn. I knew it was all just drama for the upcoming appearance of Mother.
But we had to finish dinner! The pasta was done, the bread had been heated in the oven, the spinach tossed into the pot, and it was time to EAT. DD proclaimed the soup "Completely Nommable". I'm just glad there's leftovers. Yummy!
And sure enough, not 15 minutes after they left, Sea Hag was calling Rusty to chew him out for letting H cook. "What if she pulled that whole pot of hot water onto herself!?!?" This woman really thinks her child is a moron. "You just need to THINK ABOUT THESE THINGS!!"
Right, because having raised two kids myself, I couldn't possibly understand what kids are capable of. And being a professionally trained and certified chef, I couldn't possibly understand what dangers lurk in the kitchen.
Lucky for me, Rusty doesn't take her squawking seriously anymore. He let her yammer on and on and mindlessly gave the "Yes dear" response she wanted to hear, and then told me to keep doing whatever I feel is safe and appropriate.
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