alexander makes dinner (lyn)

Mother’s Day was two weeks ago.  Valerie’s sons all gave her heartfelt and creatively composed cards. Zelia told me of the Kindle her two kids gave her.  My sister Jeannie got breakfast in bed.  My son?  Well, he gave me nothing.

I was feeling a little bad, until the Monday after Mother’s Day, when Alexander surprises me and says, “For Mother’s Day, I’d like to make you dinner.”  He’s never done this before and I think it’s a wonderful gift.  I hear him on the phone getting the recipe for a favorite dish that his grandmother makes, and I’ve never had.  We don’t have the wok that is needed, and rather than improvise, he actually borrows one.

First I hear, “It’s the end of the semester; I have too much work during the week.”  Then last weekend wasn’t good.  A party on Saturday and a joint dinner with Zelia and her family on Sunday.  “Next weekend, I promise.”

So now it's next weekend. I give Alexander my credit card and tell him to buy whatever ingredients he needs. I promise to stay out of the kitchen, and in return, he promises to be responsible for the whole dinner, through clean up.  He wants everything to be a complete surprise.

He calls me seven times from Agata, each time with a different question.

“Where do they sell the fresh garlic?  How much should I buy if I need two cloves?”

“Which red pepper should I buy?  The one for $4.99/pound or the one for $3.99/pound?  The $4.99 one looks a lot better. (Pick whatever you want).

“What kind of onion do you think I should get?  Yellow or sweet vidalia? (Sweet vidalia).

“Do we have soy sauce at home that is low in sodium?” (No, only the regular one, which will be fine).

Where do I buy the chicken?  (He’s in Agata almost as much as I am.  How does he not know where the chicken is sold? ).  


How much chicken should I buy?  (Ask the guy at the meat counter).

Can I buy the cooked portobello mushrooms from the prepared food section? (No, buy the washed and pre-cut portobello mushrooms and cook them yourself).

Okay, so now I have a pretty good idea of what the “surprise dinner” will be.

Alexander starts cooking around 6pm.  I close my door.  He wants to cook by myself.  That lasts for only a few minutes.

How do you cut an onion?

What kind of oil should I use?

How long do I cook the chicken?

How will I know when the chicken is done?

Hurry, can you set the table?  I'm sorry; I forgot.

Can you cut up the bok choy?

Dinner’s ready.  Wait, do we have a large bowl?  Where is it?

Where are the serving pieces?  
Can you get them out?  Hurry.  This has to be eaten hot.

At 8:10, dinner is served.  And it’s outstanding.  My Mother’s Day gift was well worth the wait.

And I’m so glad that cleanup is part of the gift!