Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Four-alarm baby food

Last night I cooked some penne with a Creole-style pasta sauce that I whipped up out of a link of chorizo that didn't find its way to the grill over the weekend and a can of crushed tomatoes that had fortuitously been bought a couple of months ago and never used. Pour in a little white wine, a handful of oregano, garlic powder, salt, and pepper and you almost have yourself a decent meal - or at least better than anything out of a box or bag. Since Andriana hadn't had dinner herself, we decided to give her a few pieces of penne (even though it wasn't lo-protein pasta, her tolerance is high enough that we can occasionally give her the real stuff; and besides, with the appetite of a toddler she won't exactly be eating anything approaching one 'serving'!), which she tucked into with gusto, sucking the sauce off the noodles before nibbling away at them one by one.

About five minutes into our meal, however, Andriana starts making gagging noises and reaching into her mouth as if to pull something out, although there was clearly nothing in there. "What's wrong, sweetie?" I say, worried that maybe she got some food stuck in her throat, when suddenly I become aware of the fact that this chorizo I put in the sauce is pretty damned spicy. Uh, oh! I make a lunge for her 'sippy' cup full of water and hand it to her, and I swear she guzzled the whole thing right there on the spot, after which she looked noticeably relieved. I then sheepishly removed the remaining pasta from the tray on her high chair and replaced them with some wax beans straight from the fridge, bland and soothingly cool - she munched on them as if they were still the penne, and didn't even cast any accusatory glances in my general direction.

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