This weekend, after a frustrating week at home with the kids, I needed an escape. A friend asked if I would like to spend an evening with her and another mutual friend. Needless to say, I jumped at the chance! After much discussion, the three of us decided to go out for dinner at a local Italian restaurant. As we waited to place our orders, the three of us talked about how we were all picky eaters. We learned, though, how we were each picky in different ways. One person didn’t like sauces, and another didn’t like certain vegetables. Me,
One food that I fell in love with as a child was schnitzel. When asked what their favorite food is, most children would not respond with “Schnitzel.” I did. I spent most of my formative years as a child living in Germany. My dad was in the Air Force and stationed in Germany twice; once at Bitburg and the other at Ramstein (we lived at Vogelweh). While we spent a good deal of our time on base, my parents loved exploring the area. I have many great memories of (multiple) trips to Trier, Heidelberg, and Luxembourg. We didn’t eat out
It’s been a while since I shared a recipe on my blog. I didn’t suddenly stop cooking. No, it was much simpler than that. I went back to some basic cooking. With a move plus three little ones, I couldn’t imagine being adventurous with recipes or creating something new, much less taking the time to photograph and share what I cooked. In the last couple of weeks, though, my desire to play with flavors has slowly inched back. It started simply enough when I made my schnitzel (recipe coming soon…I promise). I felt satisfied that I finally mastered the recipe.
When it comes to food, my family has always known one thing to be true. Denise does not like lasagna. At the tender age of seven, I proved my distaste for this dish by throwing a plateful of lasagna off a balcony. (Unfortunately, it landed on our car so I was found out.) This fact held true for 37 years. Then, I attended a party held in my honor. An out-of-the-loop family member served lasagna. Being polite, I ate that lasagna. The first bite left me confused. I liked it. How could I possibly like lasagna? I never liked it. I
Being a mom to a picky four-year-old frustrates me. While her younger sister, Grace, eats practically anything on her plate, Ginny snubs her nose at any food that doesn’t have pasta or rice. I’m also not a short-order cook and won’t prepare a dish just for her. Because of that, my husband and I tend to include pasta or rice in most meals during the week. After all, we don’t want to starve our child. (That said, if she refuses to eat what she’s served, she goes to bed hungry.) The good news is Ginny is starting to try new things.
Before I met my husband, I secretly hoped that I would find a man who loved to eat the dark meat on chicken. I don’t like dark meat. It’s only white meat for me, so I figured having a man who liked dark meat would be perfect. We could eat a whole chicken with no issue. However, I had no luck in that. I met Chris and fell in love with him before I asked that all important question, “What’s your favorite? White or dark meat?” He let me know he loved white meat and couldn’t stand dark meat. And,
When I was single, I loved finding recipes that were not only quick and easy but also resulted in left overs. I tended to make one main dish on Sunday and ate the leftovers until they ran out. Then, I might make a small dish or two until Sunday arrived again. One dish I discovered during my single years was a quick and easy stromboli. It took me less than 30 minutes to make and left me with another meal the next night. What could be better than that? Now that I’m married with two girls (and one girl on
Every time fall comes, I crave comfort foods. I make lots of chili, bake pies, and cook up casseroles! Since summer is over, I feel free to use my oven more. One of my favorite comfort foods is pot roast. I remember as a little girl my mom making roast. The meat would sit in the oven for hours, surrounded by potatoes and carrots. She would use the drippings left from the meat to make a tasty gravy to go along with the roast. Yum! When I was single, I learned that I could use a slow cooker to make
When I was single, I got to where I hated cooking. I found cooking for one to be a lonely enterprise. While I enjoyed the actual act of combining flavors and testing out new recipes, I didn’t like that I had no one to “Ooh” and “Ahh” over a dish with me. Now that I’m married, I have someone who appreciates it when I cook something new or attempt to create a recipe. It helps that my husband, Chris, enjoys cooking as well. When we eat a new dish, we discuss how it might be improved the next time (or
I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase, “a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Well, a way to this woman’s heart is through my stomach. I’ve always been impressed by a man who can cook (and enjoys it). In fact, I find men who like to cook sexy. It means I won’t always be responsible for making dinner. My husband and I had an unusual courtship, with most of it being long-distance. By the time we had our first “official” date, I knew I loved him. We met at Forest Park in St. Louis and had a picnic