Boo Bug has a passionate interest in All Things Dinner. She wants to know what we’re having, when we’re having it, what precisely is in it…mostly, I believe she wants to know these things so she can begin refusing it long before it is on the table. Beat the rush, that kind of thing.
So tonight, she observed the assembling of the Diet Salad. It’s a convoluted affair (I’m starting to suspect the reason you lose weight on the Sonoma Diet is because it takes so long to make the food – you burn far more calories trying to chop and grind and mix than you consume when you eat it) involving shucked soybeans, parboiled snow peas, six minced gloves of garlic, a tablespoon of grated ginger, ‘thinly sliced’ carrots and Napa cabbage.
As I was putting it all together and drizzling it with the dressing, she looked at it dubiously. “What’s that?” she demanded.
“It’s a salad, honey.”
“Oh.” There was a considering pause. “I don’t like salad.”
“Even if it has soybeans and snow peas?”
“Yes, I really don’t like salad.” Another pause. Then, brightly, “But I do like ice cream!”
Me too, kid.
Still in the kitchen
14 minutes ago