To break the routine of the week, most Sundays, the men take over cooking responsibilities for the day at our place . I usually make some kind of breakfast/brunch around nine a.m., mid-day meal we leave everybody to their own plans and Sunday nights we try to come up with table fare that doesn’t require the women to be (heavily, at least) involved.
I pretty much know my way around a kitchen, except for this one in the house that we moved into several weeks ago. It has about three times the cabinet space as our former place and I still haven’t learned the location of everything. Meal prep in this one sometimes makes me feel like I’m driving around lost in L.A. or Chicago, looking for the expressway on-ramp. This can be aggravating, and occasionally humbling, especially when I have to stop what I’m doing to try to find one of the girls to ask for directions to the right cabinet. It’s a guy thing.
Last evening, after a weird weather day of thunder & lightning (rare for Kona, yeah?), heavier winds and rain (even waterspouts viewable from town, according to Baby Girl and her boyfriend) the evening calm returned. The sky brightened and with drier conditions, the men set to work on dinner.
Here’s the boyfriend with a pair of Uhu he netted earlier in the weekend.
He has a recipe for fish stuffing which comes together something like this.
Husband of next daughter upward fired up the grill for the turf to go along with the surf.
The rest of us made potatoes and rice (Midwest and mid-West Hawaii preferences both accommodated) and salad.
After the many years of raising them, having the now adult generation around to pitch in - whether it’s moving or cooking, driving out on errands or other things I can’t think of right now - is an unforeseen pleasure. It's fun to have them around and great to have helpers.
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