We spent the weekend at my mother's. She decided she wanted to have a "Family Day" dinner and cook the little turkey she had in the freezer. It was nice to just relax and spend time with my family, and as a bonus I brought home a nice little care package of leftover ham and turkey, and part of the turkey carcass to make soup with. There are a lot of us when we all get together, perhaps not as big a crowd as some families, but often there just aren't a lot of leftovers to parcel out, once we have lunch the following day.
Emily and I came home Sunday afternoon and while I started the laundry she decided to clean the living room and dining room. It is a lovely treat when she decides to tidy up of her own volition, rather than because I'm nagging. In the midst of her domestic fervour she also decided she wanted to make supper. This I was ok with, not really wanting to cook. She started into her cookbooks, giving me grief for not buying eggs on Friday. We still had 3, and I knew I had to go to town later in the week. To my mind we had enough for a day or two. I suggested she make a sauce for the leftover turkey and add some cooked pasta and frozen vegetables. It was her first real opportunity to try cooking without a recipe beyond her imagining and my instructions.
I portioned out 2 cups of dry pasta (wagon wheels, because they're fun) and a similar amount of frozen mixed vegetables. She chopped an onion and began to cook it in a little oil. I showed her how to mince garlic and we added a clove to the oil. Once the onion was transparent she stirred in a can of mushroom soup, which I thinned out with a splash of milk. Once it was bubbling Emily stirred in the vegetables and started the pasta cooking. she diced the leftover turkey (about 2 cups, but that;s a guess, what we had filled a sandwich size zipper storage bag) and stirred that in. I checked on the pasta and asked her where she had learned to hold a spoon-she had it in a most awkward looking grip. She shrugged and readjusted her grip, her stirring got smoother and less painful looking. I don't know how to describe the grasp she had on the wooden spoon. It was ham fisted, upside-down and, well, wrong.
When the pasta was cooked I drained it for her, and she stirred it into her sauce. I tasted it and added salt and pepper, then told her to let it simmer while I made myself a salad. She bounced impatiently around the kitchen, waiting. You would have thought she hadn't been fed for days, when the truth of it was she ate impressive amounts of food at every meal all weekend. One of those spells where as a parent you wonder a) where they put it all, and b) how you will afford to continue feeding them.
In any case dinner was very good, simple and quick. And Emily learned some of the art of making a meal out of what we have around.
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