That cat in that hat

I spent far more time than I should have this evening trying to pipe a ricotta mixture into fat little rigatoni. I gave up after a dozen or so, but that was 11 too many. Why? Because I'm desperately trying to interest the Big Bean in cooking and cooking with me. She talks a good game, but when it comes down to actual mixing and measuring, she's always got better things to do.

So we borrowed three kids' cookbooks from the library and I told her she could pick any recipe, any one at all without eggs, and we would make it this week. What does she pick? She pores over the Japanese cookbook, the international cookbook, and the Green Eggs & Ham cookbook and what does she zero in on? Cat in the Hat macaroni and cheese. Because we don't eat enough mac and cheese around here.

But I promised. So, hopped-up m&c it is.

But, this evening, who's there standing on the chair next to me in his sweet, sweet apron, desperate to mix and measure and help and declaring himself my "pastry chef" [meaning "sous chef"]? Well, it's certainly not the Big Bean. And who declared in her uberpolite way, after tasting just one bite, "This is not for me, Mama." Yep. It was Herself.

I'm too lazy to type up the actual recipe, but it goes something like this:

Mash up a tub of ricotta with grated parmesan, minced shallots, and minced parsley.
Boil some rigatoni.
Pipe the former into the latter (hah!)
Make a white sauce
Mix the stuffed (hah!) rigatoni with the sauce, sprinkle with bread crumbs and broil.

Big Bean: Thumbs down
Little Bean [aka Little Mr. Me Too]: Thumbs down