January 26, 2013
Teresa insisted that Enzo wear his boots in the muddy backyard. He talked her down to Crocs, but then he didn’t want the Crocs either, he wanted to wear Keens. She made him wear the Crocs, and as he headed out the door he said, “Mom, since you ruined my life, I’m never going to basketball again.”
It could be worse. He sometimes threatens to move out. He doesn’t lose his temper over it. He’s just letting us know it’s an option.
I was making quick pizza crust with special yeast that allows you to skip the first rise–all this because I forgot to start the slow-rise pizza dough this morning, and Enzo’s friend was coming over for pizza and a movie in fifteen minutes. And as I did this, on the phone with my mom, I learned that she’s making levain starter using unwashed quince peels (the peals have natural yeast on them) and unchlorinated water and some other stuff too. All this takes several weeks, and if it works, I will inherit this starter and make my own levain.
That reminded me of how, this morning, Enzo and I were talking about our pizza plans, and he informed me that you can order a pizza and it just comes.
Who told him about this? It is genius, I have to admit.