Sunday, October 03, 2004

The Chicken Marsala Gene

We had dinner with Brenda and Andy last night. I love home cooked meals because cooking for others is a universal act of caring for loved ones. But it's becoming rarer and ordering kung pao is just easier. I have only a handful of friends--male or female--who cook, and even fewer who really enjoy it. Andy is one of them. The guy makes his own bernaise to accompany T-bones grilled to a perfect medium. Maybe it's in his DNA; his late mother made a legendary baked ziti.

We settled into a dinner of chicken marsala that I smothered in mushroom sauce; a savory green bean almandine; and enough garlic linguine to endanger the vampire species. While we enjoyed Andy's cooking, Tommy and Ryan happily watched Harry Potter confront elves and serpents in the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This was a classic family dinner.

After the dishes had been cleared, the boys set their sights on frosting and decorating the cupcakes I baked earlier in the day. Their dedication to covering every cupcake with buttery frosting and a unique pattern of sprinkles gave me hope that when they're old enough, they will want to stand at a stove and transform marsala and mushrooms into a tasty sauce. After all, they have their dad's culinary genes.

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