We don't get to eat at lovely restaurants much these days. 

No maitre d' who values his job security would let our big family within spitting distance of their fine dining room. For fear of our four spitting. 

And even if they would, we couldn't afford it. And if we could, we wouldn't enjoy it. Because here's what one or more of our children would say upon looking at their plate of beautifully presented deliciousness: "YUK!"

And then we would skulk away in shame. Or be escorted to the door swiftly whereupon the maitre d' would do his own bit of spitting. On us. 

Josephine turned up her nose, crossed her arms over her puffed-out chest and issued a loud, dismissive "YUK!" when a new dish made its way to the table last night. 

Few things make me boil faster than the kids not eating a meal I put effort into making. Most days, I have like 30 minutes, tops, to get something on the table. Those 30 minutes aren't without major interruptions either.  A typical meal prep includes at least one cat fight between kids and multiple requests for scissors or a new piece of paper, a new diaper or help putting on a dress-up outfit. Usually, Tobias is hanging from my leg crying, laughing or otherwise demanding attention.

So, I stick to a handful of easy to make dishes and dream of the day we'll go out for quiet, exquisite meals again. 

That's why it was so unusual that I bought the bundle of swiss chard. I've never cooked with it and I didn't have a recipe in mind. Never mind. It was so gorgeous: the brilliant reds, the bright greens. It screamed "Buy me!" And I did...

Read the rest (and get the recipe) at Feast After Famine.