Monday, November 14, 2011

On the Hunt

I went grocery shopping on Sunday because my cupboards resembled Old Mother Hubbard's.  I thought the house was now well-stocked with food.  Isaac had no school today so I left directions that he make spaghetti and meatballs for dinner to be ready by the time I return from work (after 8pm tonight so PLENTY of time).

I returned home to find Mr. Lime sitting with a bowl smeared with spaghetti sauce remnants, which was a good sign.  He informed me Isaac was out with friends and that I should not expect the spaghetti to impress me.  Hey, I was impressed that the boy made dinner with out me being present to coach him through it.  As long as it was not a burnt offering or only half-cooked I was not going to become a food critic.  I warmed up a bowl and ate his first attempt at a solo dinner.

Isaac and his pals soon returned noisily.  The crew of boys immediately began to look for food.  There is something both amusing and comforting in the predictability of their motivations.  Isaac found the carton of kumquats I left on the table and asked his buddies if they wanted some.  Yes, we had kumquats.  I never had one before.  Heck, I never even saw one before so when I found a small carton of them at the store I decided we'd try them.  Last night I couldn't convince anyone to taste them with me and half the fun is trying something new with other people.  Tonight, the three boys and I munched the kumquats and declared them weird but edible.  I get a kick out of being the mom who has the "weird foods."  These guys have tried all sorts of food they never had before when they've come over to visit.  Venison, quinoa, kale chips, all sorts of ethnic foods, and now kumquats.

Kumquats were no match for adolescent male hunger though so they began scouting for more food immediately, not unlike sharks on the prowl.  They went through a bag of corn chips and a jar of salsa in minutes and still the empty space was not filled.  Then one lifted the lid on the spaghetti pot and brightened as he asked, "Can we have some?"  I smiled as I handed them all bowls and forks.  They each inhaled one bowlful.  The first guy lifted the lid after the first round of snarfage and gave the excitedly spoken quote of the night, which made me split a gut laughing.

"Dude, it's perfect.  We each can have a third of what's left and then they don't have to put any in the fridge!"


As if somehow leftovers are contrary to universal law and they'd be doing me a great favor.

I think I need to go grocery shopping again...

15 comments:

Craig said...

Kale chips??

That's the only thing you mentioned that I've never had (depending on what 'all sorts of ethnic foods' means). Tho I eat kale all the time.

Between my own teenage-boy-hood, and having raised three sons so far thru their teens, nothing you say here surprises me in the least. . .

In the last couple months, our college-age offspring have developed this tradition of having 6-8 of their friends over for Sunday Brunch. We never have pancakes left over, either. . .

silly rabbit said...

I used to call my boys the locusts.
But I love that one's reasoning. Ha!

Beach Bum said...

Kumquats were no match for adolescent male hunger though so they began scouting for more food immediately, not unlike sharks on the prowl.

Like the Chips Ahoy cookies I wrote about I now hide the chips and salsa. Can't really tell if my sone and his buddies are sharks or locusts.

Cricket said...

Heh, heh. Weird but edible is about right. I have a penchant for trying odd things and discovered kumquats in college - citrusy and reasonably ok, I thought, though not much of a buy-again.

I bet they'd make a nice marmalade, though. Once, I went busking in Harvard Sq. with a friend and we brought a basket of kumquats for anyone who wanted to try one. We had a sign billing the duo as "The Indian River Kumquat Society." There were even a few takers.

We had a habit of doing that: throwing together an impromptu group and going out busking when the money ran low. We were all fairly good so it worked more often than not. We always made a sign with some crazy name for the group. My personal favorite, which I have resurrected a few times, was "Secret Vegetarian Desires." We had a great sign for that one.

#2 favorite was "Amazing Rhythm Pigs."

On another note, in HS, my friends and I often "made the rounds" of each others houses, sometimes devouring three dinners in a row. Somehow we all stayed thin. (Sigh)

haphazardlife said...

So, does fully 3/4 of your budget go to food?

I'm impressed by your "how much Isaac can eat" stories. In an OMG that's scary way.

Suldog said...

I truly miss the days when I could chow down an entire large pizza, a bowl of spaghetti with meat sauce, half a loaf of bread, three glasses of milk, and then two or three whoopie pies for dessert, and still weigh 145 soaking wet. Teenage boys are very efficient machines when it comes to eating.

Bijoux said...

Oddly enough, my son doesn't eat a lot of food like other teenage boys. Has a big dish of ice cream almost every night, but other than that, not a big eater.

lime said...

craig, kale chips= ter the kale inot bite sized pieces, toss with olive oil and sea salt, bake on a cookie sheet at 350 until they are crispy

silly rabbit, locusts are an excellent analogy!

beach bum, i always went with the shark imagery. i think i will still refer to his singular damage as shark-like but when the frineds come over it's more locust-like

cricket, we had pretty much the same verdict on kumquats. i LOVE the names for your group of buskers. indian river kumquat society seems like it would be a good name for a rock band too!

jazz, yes. i am anxiously awaiting approval for the next home equity loan so i can buy groceries next month.

suldog, i was a teenage girl who could eat like that too. i recall downing a sufficient quantity of chinese food to cause utter amazememt one day when my dad returned me to college after a visit home. now i dream of a candy bar and my hips widen.

bijoux, i've heard tales of these creatures. i never thought they existed.

Hilary said...

I know the feeling well. My two sons have incredible appetites. Luckily for me, my older one is on his own and supporting his own eating habits. However, my younger son's girlfriend appears to have all but moved in with us, and her appetite rivals them both. And yes, she's a skinny little thing.

I can remember being in my teens and going out many evenings, sharing a pizza with one or two others. We could pack it away easily and my weight was under 100lbs at 5'7". I MISS those days!

An interesting, related word verification and a rare real word at that.. "epicure."

Craig said...

A couple times a year, Jen brings home a carton of kumquats (and you can be sure that we never, ever indulge in, um, erotic humor over that name. Never, ever), just for fun. And 'cuz she likes 'em. Sorta like little corpuscles of orange marmalade, with seeds. . .

Craig said...

And I am recalling a line I read once, from one of Patrick McManus' books -

"Kid sucks down grub like a goldurn vacuum cleaner. . ."

Chickadee said...

I too, once upon a time, had a high metabolism and could eat whatever I wanted in unlimited quantities. I miss those days. SIGH.

I've never tried Kale chips and this is the second time in recent days that I've at least read a reference to them. Me thinks I need to give them a try.

Dave said...

Teenagers are like kitchen pedalbins - stand on their foot and their mouth opens - Dave

~Tim said...

"Dude, it's perfect."

Yes. Yes it is.

Jocelyn said...

Kale chips rule. My only lingering question is whether your boy drinks a gallon of milk a day, as I've heard is the case with many teen males...

(incidentally, your message the other day re: the cleanse was DEEPLY appreciated; just struggling for time here, to reply)