Dinner at the Bowyers is separated into 2 categories.
1. Weekday dinner
2. Weekend dinner
Lindsay prepares the weekday dinners. She makes absolutely fabulous food. We have no idea what it is or what is in it, (usually because there is 100 ingredients in every meal), but it all gets eaten every night. The reason I know there is 100 ingredients in each meal is because there are two 10 foot granite counters and when Lindsay cooks, you can’t find a spot to put your wineglass down*. She is that messy.
I (mom) prepare the weekend dinners. My dinners are also fabulous, but more traditional and simpler than the elaborate feasts Lindsay dreams up. For example, we had mustard and herb coated rack of lamb on top of a potato cake with a wine reduction au jus and roasted asparagus. Very simple**, but cooked to perfection! I clean as I cook and there is always a spot for my wine glass which is the most important part of cooking.
The two men in the house, Brock and Jesse are the cleaner uppers and I’m dead serious when I say they do this enthusiastically because they want to continue to be fed fucking fabulous food.
This sounds ideal, right? Except neither Jesse, Brock, nor Lindsay and Sara understand the purpose of a sponge. A sponge in our house can last 10 years because it never gets used. I have tried a lecture series. I sit everyone at the bar counter and then explain what a sponge is, where it lives in the kitchen and the sponge’s purpose. I lecture that the sponge gets lonely if it can’t wipe the counter and stove top. I use visual aids. Nothing changes. Brock and Jesse can load and unload the dishwasher, hand wash the wine glasses and serving platters, put things away correctly, but they can’t wipe. I’m beginning to wonder if lack of sponge use could be classified as a handicap and they could get on a government program? Do you think a prestigious university like the one who studied dinosaur farts*** would be interested in applying for a federal grant to study these sponge phenomena?
** I don't know about you, but that recipe sounds complicated as fuck.
*** I remember my Mom emailing me about this, but I Googled it so you know she didn't make this up.