Supper's ready!

Ah those famous words.

Everybody remembers the worried thrill that coursed through our little bodies when our mom would cry out to come and eat.

It might be good, or it might be bad. Or it might be really really bad.

Does everyone remember the disappointment of discovering the brussel sprouts that smelt like, well, flatulence, or veal liver or a great smell that actually meant something totally different, like stuffed cabbage. Stuffed cabbage smells great when it's cooking because of the meat with the garlic and the tomato sauce. But when you actually eat it, it tastes alot like boiled cabbage... I used to eat the stuffing only. I seem to remember my sister doing the same.

Tonight, I made a lentil and rice casserole with cheese and tomato sauce. I printed that recipe more than seven years ago. I've made it lots of times.

I had resurrected this recipe two weeks ago, and must have ignored the comments or chose to block my ears, because no one likes it. I'm not even that fond of it myself.

Now why do I make stuff my family doesn't like? My mom did it all the time. There was always something bad in the plate. If the mashed potatoes were nice and buttery, the carrots were dead - mushy and no flavour. If the beef was tender and delicious, the brocoli was severally tortured before giving up and being served.

And I know I'm not alone.

So why do we do that?

Because it's an easy recipe, because we've come home late and we boil a vegetable until it no longer resembles a member of its food group just to have a good conscience, just to serve a vegetable. We've done our job, right?

I have no excuse for my recipe tonight. I had the time to cook a decent meal. I had other options. So why?

I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time of assembling stuff for supper. A vegetarian meal full of protein and fibre. Alas, empty of umpph or aaahhh. Boring boring boring. And kinda tasteless, despite the cheese.

But I did my job. I used things I already had, I didn't go shopping, therefore saved money, and made a healthy meal for my family.

My son didn't eat the lentils nor the sauce, worked really hard to separate the rice from the rest and poured a cup and a half of ketchup on it before eating it.

My daughter mixed everything up and ate a little bit while my son distracted her doing all sorts of things you don't do at the table. She laughed her way to nutrition. When her brother was done and calmed down, she realized she was eating something she didn't like and stopped.

My husband, the ever gentle critic, the guy who'll even try a new tofu dish at least once although he really really hates tofu, ate his plate to the last grain of rice.

But he wasn't too fond of it.

Sometimes it's time to let go. I'm gonna throw that recipe away.