We had pasta for dinner tonight. Specifically, Ravioli Lasagna from Rachael Ray, although I did alter the recipe quite a bit. It was a hit by the way. Everyone liked it, which is an extreme rarity in our house. It made me think of another time we had pasta that did not have the same happy ending.
A while back I made tortellini for dinner with a marinara sauce to go on top. Everyone thought it was great except DQ who took one look at it and turned up her nose. At the time DQ loved pasta, cottage cheese, and marinara (without chunks or “seeds” aka herbs) so I thought, “Perfect!”. Not so much. At the time we were doing the “you must clean your plate” thing, and told her that if she did not eat her 10 mini tortellini, than she would be having it for breakfast. Thinking we were bluffing, she proceeded to agree to these terms and went to bed. When she woke up the next morning, she asked for her usual Cheerios with honey. I reminded her that she had to have the tortellini for breakfast, and she wailed for awhile, but eventually sat at the table with her plate of tortellini in front of her. I told her (knowing I had time on my side now) that she could not get up from the table until she had finished her tortellini. This was at about 8:30 a.m. She finished her tortellini and left the table at 1:00 p.m.!!! Yes, you read that correctly. That was the day I decided the fighting about the food was not worth it. The new rule (that has remained to this day) is that two bites must be put into the mouth, chewed and swallowed to get up from the table. Now that she’s a bit older, she usually abides by this rule without fussing about 2 nights per week. To be honest we are happy we have those 2 nights of dinner in peace, because it was 5 (almost 6) years before we had even one, not counting the nights with Mac and Cheese on the menu.
I remembered this tonight specifically because the dinner that was so vile 2 years ago was cheese filled pasta topped with marnara sauce, and the dinner served tonight was cheese filled pasta layered with marinara sauce. She never ceases to amaze me. And to those that would say she’s just like me, these words came out of the husband’s mouth the other night: “The Angel Hair pasta is better.” We were having spaghetti. Same brand. Same type. Just 1/2 a millimeter thicker. I think I have made my point.