Thank God for Quesadillas

I don't cultivate picky eating in my house.  It's one of my pet peeves, when people are picky eaters, particularly when they are the type of picky eater who enforces their pickyness upon the rest of us. 

You know the type.  Everyone's getting pizza?  Oh, no.  Well, we can only get pizza if you get a pizza with a very little sauce and extra cheese, and please ask them not to season the crust.  Otherwise I don't want pizza.

Ugh.  It makes me furious.  Anyway, not only do I find it respectful to the chef and any group you're eating with to quietly eat food outside your comfort zone, but it is also a matter of necessity in my home.  Cooking is not on my list of priorities...eating is...but not cooking.  This sounds counter intuitive, but I have done just fine most of my life eating like a "bachelor" as my Dad dubbed it.  Cold pasta out of the fridge?  Perfect.  A sandwich for dinner again?  Sure.  More Mac 'n' Cheese?  Yum.

During my illustrious career of non-cooking I've also come to the revelation that almost ANYTHING tastes good in a tortilla (and heated in the microwave for 30-60 seconds).  I would love to kiss the person who invented the quesadilla, although I'm sure the feeling wouldn't be mutual since I've bastardized their beautiful creation for my own purposes.  So many options for filling a tortilla...turkey and cheese; chicken, onions, bell peppers, and cheese; squash and cheese; apples and cheese; turkey and cheese and salsa for the Mexican version (haha).  You get the drift. Tortilla + cheese + almost anything else = delicious.

There are times when I feel the social pressure to be the wife, and now mother, that cooks great meals, but I just can't bring myself to invest in the art of cooking...aren't there better things to do with my time?  Why spend hours investing in something everyone scarfs down in 20 min (let's be real, 10 in my house)?

The other night I made stir fry (from a frozen mix of veggies, frozen fried rice from Trader Joes, and frozen boneless skinless chicken breasts...yes that's a lot of frozen).  It didn't taste particularly wonderful.  Mostly because I turned the chicken breasts into rubber ( I don't know, it may have had a little to do with becoming impatient and finishing them off in the microwave).

Anyway, here we were sitting at the table, all three of us chewing and chewing and chewing on those blasted chicken breasts and I sent up a little prayer of gratitude as I saw Andrew and Little Man wearing out their jaws on dinner.  It's a blessing to have non-picky eaters in your house, particularly if you are the kind of person who doesn't care much about cooking.  I'm really grateful that God blessed me with a husband who eats just about anything and never makes me feel bad for sometimes making quesadillas multiple times a week (they were TOTALLY different kids, OK?)! 

So, even though at times I still feel intimidated by women who are great in the kitchen, I've learned to embrace my MacGyver-like skills at just getting by in the kitchen.  It often involves random ingredients present in the refrigerator, tortillas and a microwave but you sure don't see us wasting away do you?  Thank God for quesadillas and non-picky boys.  Life's too short to spend in front of the stove.

Hmm, I wonder what's for dinner tonight? :)