Tonight I made a new recipe, Curried Noodles with Tofu. I actually was going to make this last night, but at 5:45 when I started cooking, I realized that I was missing the key ingredient: coconut milk. That combined with my husband calling me to tell me he had his second flat tire and was walking to a local bike store, I decided to ordered pizza.
Tofu, take two. When dinner was done, I realized it hadn't made as much as I expected it too. This may surprise you, but Brandon eats ALOT. I dished up small plates for the boys and myself, and a big plate for Brandon. Two out of the three boys were not impressed and refused to even try it. Jack was the only one who ate it but that was with the promise of a popsicle.
It wasn't awful, it actually tasted just fine. But halfway through my plate I had a thought.
"Why am I eating tofu, when I have an absolutely delicious pot roast turned french dip, waiting for me in the fridge?"
I ate a few more bites of cabbage, while debating if I wanted to give up my planned lunch for tomorrow.
Tofu or beef. Hmm, tough call. I looked at Brandon and said, "You know..." and he said, "You've got a roast in the fridge." God, I love that man.
I put my fork down, jumped up and quickly began to assemble the best french dip sandwich in the world.
While the boys played, I savored every last bite. Did I feel guilty about eating a fat slab of meat on vegetarian night. Um, sure, but seriously, did I mention how good it was?
Beef, it's what's for dinner.
1 comment:
The dreaded question has become easier (slightly) since the kids learned to read and I can tell them to check the calendar. Just slightly becuase then they can come back with the question, "Are you sure you want to make that? I think (fill in the blank) sounds much better!"
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