True Confessions and Crochet
When it comes to cooking, scale has always been a problem for me. I recall a particular dinner party, back in the early days of Pookie+Michele. Six people, including us.
I’d been shopping at Sam’s. Chicken breasts, steaks, burgers. Potato salad, green salad, pea salad. Burger buns, dinner rolls, Italian bread.
We were eating those leftovers for weeks.
By the time Chewie was old enough to eat people food I had learned, more or less, how to cook enough for dinner with something left over for the next day’s brown bags.
By the time Dobby was eating more than three bites per meal, I no longer needed a brown bag, Pookie was uninterested in brown bags, and Chewie was eating lunch at school.
Then they became teenagers. Two. Teenage. Boys. Costco, here we come!
And now, for three quarters of the year, it’s just Pookie and me. The adjustment has been easier than you’d think.
I had some practice cooking tiny when I spent time at Mimo’s tiny house. Having only a single induction burner, a microwave, a toaster oven, and a one-quart slow cooker was challenging at first but it seemed like Mimo’s appetite improved when she could smell food being prepared just for her.
Now that I’m home full-time again, I use what I learned. One steak feeds us fine. Two chicken breasts, if we’re really, really hungry. If a roast won’t fit in the one-quart slow cooker then it’s just too big.
But now Chewie is home for the summer and wants to smoke a pork butt.
We’ll be eating the leftovers for weeks.
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