Food Brag

One of my nieces and I share a love for the kitchen. We also like to make dishes from scratch. She has been a vegetarian for many years, and when I became one a few years ago, she was very helpful as I learned to combine different foods to make sure I get enough protein. A couple of thousand miles separate us physically, but still we are close. We connect mostly on Facebook, so she would post a recent meal or dish on my wall, a possible idea for me. Then I began to do the same on her wall.

My dear roommate/friend and I love pesto and hummus. They are expensive items to buy at the grocery store, but ridiculously cheap and simple to make at home. My older son and his wife got me a food processor last Christmas, and it put me in business. So I began to experiment.

I don't know for sure, but maybe it was the day I posted something like Eggplant Hummus, Pesto with Spinach and Pistachio that my niece commented "Whatever. Bragging is not attractive." I don't know; was I being arrogant? Then she came back with a zinger, something like Homemade Pizza with Homemade Marinara, and some other yumminess. It was on! She terms it "food brag." We both have a lot of fun with it.

She said she has to up her game, but I think she has an edge over me because her husband also makes some amazing things. His lasagna outperforms anything you might have in the most authentic Italian restaurant. I hope to visit Europe one day, and I will have some lasagna when I visit Italy, and I fully expect to be disappointed because it won't be as good as his. It is seriously that delicious. And his homemade popcorn with just the perfect combination of salt and butter? OMG.

We are fast approaching Thanksgiving in America, that holiday that is more about food than any other. Yesterday at work, a customer was devastated when it seemed we had sold out on turkey basters. She looked at me with failure in her eyes and said, "I know I waited too long." Then her mother found one on the floor, and raised it high in triumph. I clapped and the three of us cheered, and well, it was a moment not unlike Food Brag.

Susan

Where a Kid Can Be a Kid

Can I just come out right now and say that I love Chuck E. Cheese? The mouse (or rat?)  and the restaurant. Their pizza is just okay, but the salad bar is awesome, and when the adorable stuffed critters come out on the stage to sing, well this grandma gets up and dances. My granddaughters are too old now for Chuck E., but my grandson is coming up on the age where it will be the perfect venue for his birthday parties.

There is one problem, however, and I would be remiss if I didn't bring it up. There are a lot of fights that break out at Chuck E. Cheese, and I'm not talking about the children. One happened here in southern California where I live not too long ago, and this past weekend there was an altercation in Pennsylvania, coincidentally the state of my birth. It happens so often that Chuck E. Cheese, the corporation, not the rodent, issued a statement about it.

This latest fight took place when a dad was having a birthday party for his son  and his ex-girlfriend stopped by. I don't know if she brought a present for the birthday boy, but she did bring a knife and a brick. The ex-girlfriend attacked Dad's present girlfriend, and another woman (another girlfriend?) intervened and was bitten.

It makes me very proud of my family. We have been attending and hosting birthday parties at Chuck E. Cheese since my now grown-up sons were little boys, and not once has the police ever been summoned. Not one time. Thinking about it makes me feel very classy.

Susan