Chicken strips and French fries

This evening, tired of cooking and needing to stock the fridge anyway, we ate out. We tried a tiny local mom-and-pop restaurant two doors down from the neighborhood grocery store.

Jonathan, for one, loved it. He ordered French fries and chicken strips, and a huge glass of pineapple juice, and it all came with a whole fresh peach on the side.

"This food is fantastic," he said at one point in the evening.

The boy always orders chicken strips and French fries. Why?

Me, I ordered the fish special, because I never get fish at home. I live with fish haters.

Now that I think of it, Jonathan doesn't ever get chicken strips and French fries at home. Nor, for that matter, does he ever really get anything deep fried. And we haven't seen fresh peaches since September.

Perhaps that's what makes it fantastic: trying something different that he knows he will love. Same for me with the fish.

Perhaps if I deep fried at home, he would think my food was fantastic, rather than eyeball every dish I make with suspicion.

Somehow I doubt it.

I must say, cooking is less fun with a small boy in the house.

And also, the food was very good. I will go back to that restaurant. Sometime when I'm tired of cooking and need something deep fried.