Truth in Mom's Cooking - from the mouth of a 3 year old food critic

OK, so I am not an accomplished chef... and even saying that I can cook may be a bit of a stretch. While I love great food (usually at the hands of some other great chef from one of the local restaurants or cafes), I find myself to be more of a convenience cook.

As a working mom, now with two little ones under three, I am into quick meals (but do try to put the best quality prepared foods, semi-homemade and homemade meals in front of my family). When I do have some time, I really enjoy cooking, but I have lost my knack due to lack of recent practice and have fallen into the realty of convenience as king. (I'd rather spend time playing with my little ones when I get home versus cooking for an extended period of time).

In fact, in one of my earlier postings, I talk about if my son was grown up and today and had to reflect and tell you about his "normal" family life, he just might tell you (sigh, not proud) that food is cooked in 30 seconds and that the microwave is the medium (oven, what's that? just kidding, we're not that bad. frozen pizzas go in the oven, everyone knows that. :)

But seriously, I am currently home on maternity leave, so I decided to try and change this memory and perception and give my family some home cooked meals. I have been devouring the latest cooking books, blogs and magazines to try and create a new meaning of food preparation (stressing patience and emphasizing the wafting aroma of cooking pastas, meats and veges).

This week, I cooked (not a fancy dinner, but an improvement) some quesadillas. I was standing over the stove, grilling the tortillas to the perfect shade of golden brown, when a little steam (ok, so some smoke), hung over the stove.

My little man looks over at me and said, "Fire!" (At first, I had no idea what he was referring to). He said it a few more times and then I grasped that he was referring to the steam or "smoke" coming from my gourmet dinner on the stove.

He then, with his three-year old ear-to-ear grin, turned to me and asked, "Do you have any smoke?" (you see, he likes to ask us daily, "do you have any (fill in the blank)?" Typically he asks us if we have any toys, because we say "no" and then turn the question around to him - and he proudly says yes - as he has many toys).

Then he immediately followed his question with, "Smoke is for choo-choos."

I couldn't have said it any better myself. At that moment, I realized that a new food critic was born.