One of the high points of the 4th of July weekend was the amazing food we got to experience, starting with the crabfest my friend E hosted on Friday. It was crazy good, and both kids gamely tasted some of the meat. Only Liam — who has an adventurous palette like I do, while Thea is more like Todd — enjoyed it. He loved everything about the entire crab experience, from poking the crabs to make sure they were still alive and watching them go into the pot of boiling water, to smashing their carcasses with a mallet to release the tender flesh.
Wow, I'm really far from my vegetarian roots with this.
Anyway, for the next two days, he brought up how much he loved crabs several times. They were indeed particularly good and plentiful. I think the next time we have them, he will be sorely disappointed.
On Sunday I took the kids over to the O family BFF's place for lunch so Todd could study. Monkeyrotica, who may be the best cook I personally know, made a beautiful jambalaya. I gave Liam a taste, thinking it would be too spicy for him. Instead, he gulped down some water and chirped "More!" When we left, he raved about the "jamba-blah-blah" the whole way home.
I joke that I had to breed my own dining companion, but I kind of mean that sincerely.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
"I love crabs BANG BANG!"
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8 comments:
Sounds like chef in the making. I'm sure he will have his own show on the Food Network in just a few short years.
I love crab too...but maybe not the putting them into a boiling bot part.
When I was a little monkey, I loved nothing so much as when mom would buy a big jug of kimchee from the only Asian mart in DC (this was in the 1970s). I'd eat one piece, drink a whole glass of water, eat another piece, another glass of water. I'd be peeing for hours but it was worth it. Something about that icy-cold pickeley cabbage and the slow burn of the hot peppers.
I need to do a cajun style crab boil soon, with lots of corn, andouille, potatoes, and artichokes.
We went to a crawfish boil in May. I was so excited when Elliot tried the crawfish, and then asked for more. He's definitely shaping up to be a good dinner date for me.
And monkeyrotica ... artichokes in your crab boil? That sounds fantastic! What we had was authentic Southern style with crawfish (shipped in live from LA), corn & potatoes.
Turns out I'm salivating. Clearly my Pavlovian response is in full gear.
jamba blah blah. hehe :)
i never ate crabs until i moved down here. it's definitely an event when you do! so cool that liam is a little foodie in the making :-) time to start teaching him fundamentals of cooking ;-)
One of the ways you can tell what "class" a person was "born into" is by their eating habits. Those people born into very poor families are trained to treat strange foods with suspicion. Children that were left alone or left with siblings while mom worked also treat new foods with suspicion. For those people whose mother fixed monday night spaghetti, tuesday night tuna casserole...friday night mac 'n' cheese, Sunday chicken where each person had "their piece"...and the menu started over again the next week...
There are many different "class clues" - such as how someone treats food/beverage utensils...if they
doesn't know which spoons/forks/knives go with which meal courses
what to do with their napkin after they finish their meal....
put a sweaty iced glass or a hot drink directly on the table
don't know how to hold a cup and saucer...
don't know what to do with their spoon after they've stirred their coffee...
You can tell also by the way people handle their feet...if they
sit on the couch and put their feet up on the coffee table, they came from a family that didn't have good furniture.
walk directly into a house without pausing to check their feet...(very poor behavior to make more work for the servants by tracking in mud across their *the servants* carefully tended floor. You treat the house and contents as belonging to the next generation, a heritage to be passed down and your role is caretaker, noblesse oblige)
Someone who leans against a wall and then puts one foot flat against the wall in a sort of stork position is definitely not doing their parent's proud.
One of the greatest gifts a parent can give a child is to politely taste each dish (they don't have to like it and they don't have to eat a portion someone else has chosen for them). In some cultures, to refuse food is to declare yourself an enemy.
Of course, what was true 50 years ago is probably NOT true these days.
Anyone wondering why my kids are determined not to be like me in any way???
Grandma, Thea doesn't have adventurous taste in food and will refuse to try something new. *shrug* I don't push it. Why fight about it and create a big issue about something that will probably go away on its own? Or not. WHATEVER.
Last night, my daughter told me I needed to make a list of the foods she likes because she's spending the weekend with her "other mom." Here's the list: "cantaloupe, cheese, chicken nuggets, spaghettios, orange chips, chocolate milk, oreos, smile fries, Nemo pasta, tomatoes and her favorite: abbacado." I feel good about the avacado.
Good for him, a boy (and mommy) after my own heart.
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