I don’t know about you, but it seems to me that weeknight dinners turn into more of a chore this time of year. I feel like everything is a rush and it seems so much easier to grab takeout.
The thing is, takeout really ISN’T any easier. By the time I order, pickup, pay and drive home, I might have just cooked some pork chops and steamed some broccoli. That would have cost half the price and half the calories without an extra trip. It’s even worse going out to eat, where I’m at the mercy of the menu, the service and my child’s attention span.
The other night, I threw my hands up and made a frittata. I beat a dozen eggs with shredded cheddar and some chopped whatever out of the salad drawer. I think it was green and red bell peppers, onions, garlic, and something else. I poured it all into my large saute pan and cooked it about 10 to 15 minutes over low heat until it was almost cooked through, and cooked the op under the broiler. Everyone got their own toast, and I think it came out to like $2 a person.
I lingered at the table with a Diet Coke while J.R. emptied his train box in the kitchen. I felt like a genius.