Coping, Part 1

Food, I find, helps. I require simple, healthy (low fat, low cholesterol) recipes that use local ingredients and remind me of New York. Plus, the food needs to cook quickly, so that if the kids start acting up, my attention can be divided without worrying about the soufflé falling. Ever had a soufflé fall? That’s how they invented matzah.

The Doctor has said that she would leave me for Bobby Flay. She’s only half-serious. She would also leave me if I didn’t buy her a “thanks for birthing my child” present. She was only half-serious about that, too. I thought that if Bobby Flay were to show up in the hospital thanking her for giving birth to my child, those two half-serious comments would become a whole serious comment, and she would divorce me on the spot. Considering the consequences, I didn’t want to risk him showing up when I was empty-handed.

So I bought the Doctor Bobby’s Mesa Grill cookbook. Not only would the food it told me to cook be tasty, but Bobby cooks American Southwest inspired food. All the recipes would use more-or-less local ingredients. It would be responsible. It would be tasty. It would remind me of eating in New York. It would also have the added bonus that the Doctor would think that I’m capable of cooking Bobby Flay’s food, thus looking, sounding, acting and having the raw animal attractiveness of Bobby Flay.

Hasn’t worked out to the extent that I hoped, but the food is good. It’s also not terribly difficult to make, as long as you don’t attempt the sixteen spice rub chicken on a weeknight. Ever try to mix sixteen spices while holding a toddler? Neither have I.