This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of Esurance. The opinions and text are all mine.
I’m trying hard to get my kids proficient in the kitchen. I didn’t grow up really learning to cook, and I don’t think I could properly chop an onion until my 30’s. I want my kids to leave home with a basic set of cooking skills, and a couple easy meals they can make for themselves or for friends.
I’ve been attempting to have each of my older three cook a meal independently once a week. The other night, it was India’s turn, and it was chicken fajitas. I got her started, but then I had to run Jafta to a band audition, which I thought would be a quick drop-off situation.
It was not.
An hour later, I’m still at this audition and I’m texting India and not getting an answer and I’m starting to worry. What if she is overwhelmed? What if she’s freaking out? What if she can’t find something? What if the house is burning down?
I texted a friend about the predicament. “I’m worried about India. I left her cooking and it’s been a while and she’s not responding to my texts.”
This was the response from my friend:
“Oh, did you not see? She’s instagram-living the whole thing. She seems to have it handled.“
Welp.
Apparently instgram live is the new mobile babysitter, and I have a pro in the kitchen. However, she did have a couple challenges. First, she got an eyeful of bell pepper juice when she first started chopping. Ouch.
Then she was struggling with the onions, which were stinging her eyes and making her cry. I hate chopping onions for this reason, too. It can be a little painful on the eyes. But she came up with a hack that was all her own:
Chopped onions, in a surprisingly painless way. She saved her eyes and now we have a new kitchen tool: goggles. I ordered a pair just for this task that will now sit in the drawer next to the knives. It will be handy for the kids but I think I might start wearing them too. No more mascara running while i’m cooking? Yes, please.
The meal was delicious. The onions were perfectly caramelized (a tenet of cooking I’ve perhaps over-emphasized) and the chicken was cooked through but not dry. We came home from the audition and feasted, and India felt great about herself. Ironically, she did not eat the meal she prepared, because she remains on the beige diet she started in toddlerhood. She does not eat things like onions or peppers or foods that touch. But alas, my kids may be picky, but they will know how to cook for others.
And honestly, the fact that she was skilled enough to make a meal for the whole family kind of saved my ass, too. I was shuttling her brother, she was handling dinner. A night that could have meant dinner disaster . . . surprisingly painless.
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