Epicure Kelly Bishop
Macaroni & Cheese
Shake & Bake Chicken
I crack eggs into a bowl with unsteady hands. I am watched by my mother’s careful eye for any stray eggshells falling into the bowl. My eyes barely peer over the green tile kitchen counter. My mother carefully lays the raw chicken legs onto a plate. I watch eagerly as she pours the bread crumbs and spices into a big, plastic Ziplock bag. It always felt so special being her little helper when she needed it for dinner. The kitchen was warm and the lights were soft as we worked next to each other, all alone. Each leg of chicken is carefully dipped into the bowl of runny eggs, and then individually dropped into the bag of bread crumbs. I shake with all my might, bouncing around the kitchen with enthusiasm and vigor as I do. My arms grow tired, but it is my duty to get that whole leg coated with crumbs. Her smile is gentle and kind as she watches, laughing. I shake one by one, until they are finally placed into the oven to grow into crunchy, juicy bones of meat.
Standing in the dimmed kitchen lights, I throw my arms around his neck. We tiptoe from counter to fridge to stove on the tile floor, muffling laughter. The water begins to boil, and he pours in the box of Kraft macaroni. I give him sideways glances as he works, pressing my lips together to stifle a grin. Our eyes sparkle in the hushed moonlight coming in through the window above the sink. I watch as his shadowy arms scrape the pot clean, his tongue being bit on the side of his mouth in concentration. Two white porcelain bowls are filled with perfectly equal servings. I’m handed a spoon and I return with a peck on the cheek. One last long gaze while my teeth clamp onto the metal spoon filled with steamy macaroni and cheese. We shut the light behind us, and walk sigle-file down the stairs. My stomach grows fulland warm, while I am melting with contentment.
14
Mark My Words