Yesterday, Danny decided to make polenta. This isn’t unusual here. We take turns jumping up from the couch with a new idea for breakfast.
But this one was different, because he decided to make the polenta in Little Bean size.
She’s eating all the time these days. Most of all, she likes reaching over to eat what is on our plates. Danny figured that, if we could make more food that fit into her hand, entire, she’d eat her own food.
So he made warm polenta with fresh herbs and goat cheese. Then he pulled out the silicone financier mold we bought last month.
We’ve been busy. We haven’t been able to use them. We imagined savory financiers and small puddings, little bar cookies, and other goodies we have yet to create. However, we hadn’t made any of them.
So he spread the polenta over the molds and put them in the refrigerator. An hour later, he popped them out of the molds — no problem — and cooked them in olive oil, topped them in parmesan.
Little Bean speared one with her fork and chewed. Then smiled, then ate them all up.
And then she looked at Danny, who was already teary, patted his hand, and said, “Thank you.” (in toddler language, of course.)
We were both unable to speak for a few moments.
Danny said, “You know, I’ve probably cooked for thousands of people, and it has always meant a lot to me when they enjoyed my food. But that right there? That means more to me than any of those meals.”
That moment would not have happened without those molds.