Not that I currently buy bad food. Because I really don’t. Oh certainly the occasional bar of chocolate makes it’s way into our pantry but that hardly counts as bad food in any real sense. I mean, we don’t buy soda pop or cheesy poofs or bologna or sugary cereal or anything like that. Man, 6 year old Ezmy is disappointed in me. She was sure that once she was all grown up, she would eat nothing but Frosted Flakes, frozen mini quiches and bologna on white bread sandwiches. Another dream bites the dust, my dear. You’re not a ballerina either (and god knows how you could have been one on that diet).

No, I’m referring to the dilemma I briefly faced while at the market this afternoon. I was thinking about making a tasty recipe for A. this evening – some sort of special dinner that might make him feel appreciated and something that would fill him up enough that when he went out later to watch UFC with his pals, he wouldn’t need to buy a second crap meal at a pub somewhere. I was considering a pork chop dish that I had seen in an old Jamie Oliver book of mine – pork chops with herby potatoes, roasted pears and parsnips, topped off with minty bread sauce. Sounded delish even to someone who is not in favour of eating dead pig. Anyway, I found myself in the butcher section second guessing the purchase of some very reasonably priced antibiotic-free pork chops and trying to figure out how to turn the recipe I had in mind into a tofu one, which would have pleased both Budsie and myself but would have likely left A. wanting more.

There are many times like this. Times when I replace pricier basmati rice with less pricey and much less fun long grain brown rice. Times when I skip fancy ingredients in things and improvise (note: table cream and double cream are not the same thing). Times when I consider adding a third vegetable to a dish and opt against it because we need to space the food out evenly over the week. All of this is lame. And, with a new commitment to eat at home whenever possible, largely unnecessary. I’ve done the math and those nights we used to go out for dinner simply must add up to extra tasty goodies from the market. So today’s resolution is to buy the good food we like to eat. Within reason of course. I mean, I’d love to drown all of my food in truffle oil and scatter saffron about willy nilly but that hardly seems productive or necessary. However, on nights when my man wants (or I think he might want) pork chops, then pork chops he shall have. I made A. his manly meal this evening and he loved it. Tomorrow I’m going to bake him a tasty peach pie, a piece or two of which he can bring on his work trip. Because I love feeding my boys good tasty food and I refuse to believe that having a bit less money means we must be forced to eat no-name mac and cheese in a box and soggy vegetables. Or some such awfulness.

Update on previous resolutions: Budsie spent the first night in his big boy room with relatively little issue. He woke up once but was easily rocked back to sleep. Excellent. He was rewarded with a special Saturday breakfast of soft-boiled egg with toast and roasted asparagus soldiers. I, on the other hand, spent the majority of the wee hours of the morning staring at the baby monitor waiting for…what exactly? I don’t know. Explosion sounds? Bear attacks? Sigh.