The other day it was my husband’s turn to prepare dinner for the kids. By ‘prepare‘ I mean put the ingredients together, serve and supervise the expedition.
Dear Schnitzel, you are on the menu tonight.
My recipe:
Cut the chicken breast up into bite size ‘nugget‘ pieces. Crack two eggs into a bowl and whisk together. Coat the chicken in the eggs first, and then coat in the breadcrumbs. Heat a pan of oil and put the crumbed chicken schnitzel in then pan and cook until golden brown.
His recipe:
I have the chicken breast, there appears to be enough here.. oh, and I think I am meant to cut them into dice size pieces. What knife do I use? Put the pan on and put the chicken in… ohh crap, I forgot to crumb! Shit! Take out the pieces, crack an egg and sprinkle the bread crumbs on top.
I try and keep my mouth shut, and I try not to say a word. But truth be told, every being in my body is screaming and my internal organs are shaking inside as I wonder why oh why he can’t get schnitzel right.?!
Why?
Dear Schnitzel, I like to be in control. I am a controlling person. You are now making me anxious. The schnitzel is not right.
I mean, I have spent gruesome hours trying recipe after recipe to only have it be rejected or thrown onto the floor – which the dog seems to always win in on. Try and try as I might, I plan and prepare their meals just the way they like it.
Dear Schnitzel, you are teaching me more about you today than you ordinarily set out to.
I have to escape the chicken schnitzel. I don’t want to be this wife that has to ‘step in‘ all the time and be the person taking over. Every part of me inside is telling me “let it go! It is just chicken schnitzel!” He does it different. We are all different.
Dear Schnitzel, I think there are many ways to crumb you, and I am realising that there are clearly many ways the kids enjoy you too.
Dear Schnitzel, I know, I need to let go.
As my battle continues I hear laughter and chatter. His recipe has won over and mine is left for another day. I have battled the chicken schnitzel. The chicken schnitzel has battled me. There is even an added side dish that appears to be a ‘special treat’.
Dear Schnitzel, why must you be so challenging?
Dear my darling husband, you have done well. Just not the way I would do it.
