Oat Cuisine

Uh, oh, I hear papa cookin’.  I’d better go help.

Well, every morning papa does his own breakfast of three cereals, mixed nicely with a bit of salt and butter and then a little added brown sugar and milk,  and he’s also quite good at Spaghetti alla Carbonara, one of our favorites (notice the ‘our’–eggs, bacon and parmesan, what’s not to like?), but what I love is his funny banter when mama is cooking.

Which is a lot.

Well, actually, lunch and dinner, so not so out of the ordinary, but mama tends to COOK, if you get my drift.  A sautéed onion, a little garlic, sliced leeks and potatoes and a pinch of nutmeg and squeeze of lemon all stirred together in a rich chicken broth to make one of winter’s most wonderful soups, Soupe a la Parmentier.

Whatever that means.

But sometimes he’ll come down to lunch or dinner and say casually, “So what are we having for dinner?  Peasant under glass again?” Or something equally funny as in “Oh, thank heaven, it’s about time we’re having something good, for a change.”

Well, anyway, we laugh, which is good for the soul.   But peasant under glass really tickles me!

And when mama feeds me, she says “Oh, Loulou, num num, you’re having minced chicken breast with garden tomatoes and just a drop of extra virgin olive oil” and I think, “Mama, are you joking, this is just CAT FOOD, gimme a break?”

But I go along with it to join in the fun, haha. And what’s an extra virgin anyway? Does that mean there are too many?

For that matter, what’s a virgin?

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