I've actually decided that Ethan will be helping me make dinner most nights from here forth until such time as he catches on to my scheme, realizes that making dinner isn't quite as much fun as crashing Thomas the Train into a ravine (off the side of the train table), and ditches our culinary together-time. But right now, the kid insists that our afternoons be a three-ring circus of activity and one of those rings has to consist of mama making dinner, so he's going to help or he's going to rediscover the joys of independent play.
We actually had lots of fun today.
The vegetable chopper yarmulke. Worn by Jewish chefs all over the world.
Actually, it's my Vidalia Chop Wizard that I totally got in the "As Seen on TV" aisle at Bed, Bath & Beyond. Laugh all you want, suckers, but that baby chops the hell out of vegetables in no time. And is easy enough for a preschooler to use! Now how much would you pay?!! But wait, there's more....
A child with a vegetable peeler! He did an awesome job until he turned around and tried to "peel" the top of our dining room chair. Redirect!
Uh-oh! Don't worry, not a vegetable peeler injury, just dropped the carrot. On the floor. Hmm..is this a good time to introduce him to the 5-second rule? Maybe not.
Also? This post could be called, "Why Sarah is a Bad Jew," because my house is supposed to be completely clean of all bread product, but in this picture, I can see about 6 violations of that rule. And that's not even counting the butcher block you can't see that's got a loaf of bread, a bag of pita and a 6-pack of bagels on it. Oh, the humanity! The yeast-leavened humanity!
Our perfectly chopped carrots (and celery and onion)! Vidalia Chop Wizard, people! Now how much would you pay?! (as an aside, I'm not a paid spokes-blogger--I just dig this thing. Because that's my life--reduced to glee over perfectly chopped carrots!)(As another aside about what my life has been "reduced" to, the other night, Ethan asked Husband why mommy stayed home and daddy went to work. After listening intently to Husband's explanation, Ethan responded with, "I think Mommy should go to work for awhile and you should stay home, Daddy." So that? Was awesome.)
All of our veggies went into the pot of chicken stock; so easy to make--throw a bunch of chicken pieces (this time I just got whole breast and de-skinned it because the fat content goes up by eleventy billion percent with the skin on) into a pot of water (I use a little bit of premade chicken broth with it because I want it superduper chicken-y). Once the chicken is cooked, I take it out, shred the hell out of it with a fork and toss it back in with the veggies. Yes, folks, I am telling you, step by step, how to make the EASIEST thing in the world. Because maybe someone out there doesn't know how to make chicken soup? Maybe?
Then, it was time to make the matzo balls...
I'm not sure how much more work it would have been to grind up my own matzos for the balls, but meh. Besides, if I'm not going to drink their "wine," I feel like I should throw Manischewitz a bone and buy their matzo ball mix.
mixing the eggs and the oil together (and wondering when the pile of cereal boxes is going to fall on him and bury him alive on the kitchen floor. Housekeeping WIN! For the record, those boxes aren't always there and aren't always stacked like that--it was my attempt to make enough room for both Ethan and me at the counter).
My finicky, "but I don't like ________ (fill in...well, ANYthing that's not "noodles") child actually had TWO bowls of soup and two matzo balls. And a bagel with peanut butter. Yeah, that's right. Because we're wicked good at being Jewish.