Cooking with the boy

Sam is hosting a good-bye party for one of his co-workers who is leaving his company. The house is getting cleaned, he has tables and tablecloths all set out, all his glasses out, you name it, he's ready.

He is also making most of the food for the party. There are beef skewer things, lots of cookies, some chicken (which was seasoned and cooked but not sure for what), chocolate tartlets, and banana tartlets. I helped him make the banana tartlets last night. And by helped him, I may have sort of taken over. I didn't mean to be rude, but he didn't know to slice the bananas with the peel still on (way easier that way and less messy), and he was just going to randomly smush the puff pastry dough into the little tart pan cups. So, I rolled out the dough for him, and I helped make the caramel sauce the bananas were to go in while he sliced.

I may have accidentally been condescending when I saw how he was making things (with the laptop set to the food network website on the little table across from the counter and stove), but he needed assistance. We were quite funny I am sure cooking together. I am from a long line of fantastic cooks and bakers even if I have very little practice--there is a lot of helpful theory wrapped up in my brain that just shoots out at moments like this and I never even know it is there until it appears. He cooks much more frequently and ambitiously than I do, but it seems he is mostly self-taught from the recipes. He is pretty good though. I was very impressed. I would never have done the work he did for this kind of party. He is also pretty adorable for getting all excited about his party and his work for the party (he has lists for the day of and the day before the party of what needs to get done). He is adorable.

He also is being forced to watch project runway. Which he seems to be taking to all right. His tivo however, hates me and does not want me ever to see the slapultimate episode of How I Met Your Mother. However, Internet of high speed has been ordered and may be happening at my house by this weekend. We can only hope.

There, Macaela, more about the boy and a picture from when my sisters roommate was visiting (that is her coworker, her, Sam, and me at a dueling piano bar).