I sweep the onion from the cutting board
into the hot pan; the slices quickly sizzle in the golden oil.
Peppers, garlic next. The air fills with sweet steam
and everyone wonders what’s happening in the kitchen.
Next, the chicken, cayenne pepper, coriander,
sea salt, black pepper. Diced tomatoes deglaze
the pan and make the sauce.
“What’s that good smell?” asks the little one.
“Quinoa and chicken” I say.
“Mmmm, like the kind I liked last time, but different?”
“Yes. Like last time, but different.”
“Quinoa,” says the big one as he passes by. “Hm.”
“Quinoa?” questions the littlest one
with a wrinkled-up nose and squinty eyes, “Quinoa?”
And the babe tugs on my pant leg for a hug.
He doesn’t say anything, but he gobbles it up.