You all know my father, right?
The 90 year old lepracauhn of a man with the cherubic face, the rosy red cheeks and the twinkling blue eyes?
You know---the man who is always trying to stay on a diet and thinks getting my Lapband was the best thing I ever did and wishes he could have one too?
Yeah, this guy.....he's the culprit. The cause of all of my food problems.
Two weekends ago, amid all of the crazy busyness of life in Judiland, I found myself enthralled by a bushel of red, green and yellow peppers while racing through the local farmers' market in search of thai basil plants for my herb garden. Those peppers were so beautiful, I had to have them. In my state of euphoria, I imagined all of the wonderful things I could make with them---stuffed peppers, pickled peppers, fried peppers, roasted peppers, pepper relish, chicken with peppers, hot sausage with peppers, omlets with feta cheese and peppers, red pepper marinara....well, you get the picture. Within moments, I had that bushel of peppers under my arm and I was heading out to my car, thrilled with my conquest. I was so overtaken by those peppers that I forgot completely about my thai basil quest. Who needed thai basil anyway....when you have a zillion pretty peppers?
Fast forward to last weekend.....there I was.....with a bushel of the most beautiful peppers in the world sitting on my counter. There was not a pickled pepper, a roasted pepper, a fried pepper or any other kind of prepared pepper anywhere in sight. Just a zillion pretty peppers....wilting right in front of me.
It was time to deal with those peppers.
So, deep into the night and the early morning hours, I stuffed them and I sauteed them and I fried them and I roasted them and I chopped them up and I julliened them and then I stuffed a few more, fried a few more, roasted a few more....well, you get the picture.
My fridge and my freezer were overrun by every imaginable pepper concoction I could think of.
The next day, I informed my father of my maniacal pepper cooking, promising that he would soon be the benefactor of my efforts. Knowing that he just loves, loves, loves stuffed peppers, I talked up the menu for the following few days. He was very excited about the prospect of having stuffed peppers for dinner on Tuesday. We talked about it for quite awhile. In fact, he reminded me several times throughout the weekend and then called me at work on Tuesday just to be sure he would have his stuffed peppers.
When dinner time came---I pulled out the stuffed peppers, heated them through, made a nice batch of rice with a side of green beans and lovingly placed then on a plate. It felt so good to be giving my father something he truly loved.
With a huge smile, I presented the plate to my father.....
"No, I don't want that," he said.
"No, it's the stuffed peppers," I told him, reminding him that we talked about it already.
He bounced his head back and forth, letting me know he wasn't all that interested.
"Really, dad, I made these for you! The stuffed peppers? Remember?" I went on, a bit flabbergasted. (I should mention right here that my father has all of his mental faculties and he never forgets about food!)
"Put that plate in the fridge. I will eat it some other time," he instructed me.
"What will you eat?" I asked him, knowing full well that he wasn't going to cook anything for himself and he is not a man to miss a meal.
"I want a monti cristo sandwich," he declared with great authority.
"A what?" I asked.
"A monti cristo sandwich," he said firmly.
"I don't make them." I told him, pushing the plate with the stuffed peppers, rice and green beans closer to him.
He grimaced, pushing the plate away.
"I want a monti cristo sandwich," he said, his voice raising slightly.
"Well, I don't know how to make them," I told him flatly.
"The Pancake House down the road does. Go get me one." he said pointing to the door.
Well, you know the rest of the story.
He got his monti cristo sandwich.
Then he ate the stuffed pepper with rice and the side of green beans
Then, I got into trouble for feeding him so much.
It's no wonder I have food problems.....