Not a whole lot to tell. I'm a single dad with two picky teen-aged kids who love to eat. Luckily, I enjoy cooking, and they enjoy eating what I cook. Win/win. The cool thing is that my son likes to cook and my daughter has really gotten into baking. Together, we're trying new things and expanding our culinary horizons. I just need to head over to the healthy cooking section so that our waistlines don't expand accordingly... I love to cook dishes (mostly Tex-Mex) that I grew up with. Unfortunately, some of the recipes that I would love to have were lost when my grandmothers passed. Still, I have been trying to find recipes and putting the family spin on them. So far, no complaints from the kids. Sunday breakfast. My dad had this thing about making huge breakfasts before Sunday Mass. I would always wake to the smell of bacon or sausage cooking, knowing that a delicious omelet would be waiting for me as soon as I made it to the table. Then, of course, there was Grandma's fried chicken lunches after Mass... I still do the big breakfasts for my kids, but I don't know if I have the chops to ever make fried chicken that can compare to Grandma"s My biggest triumph was the very first time I cooked Thanksgiving dinner on my own. I was in the middle of divorce proceedings and I wanted to make sure my kids had the traditional meal with all the fixings. My mom came for a visit and to help out. All things considered, it was a wonderful time and the meal came out beautifully. I totally rocked that turkey. I was about 15-16, and I was over at a friend's house for the weekend. His parents had gone out of town and left a check for us to get groceries. Unfortunately, they forgot to sign it so we were out of luck in the food department. Still, we tried to make do with a bit of instant mashed potatoes which we tried to dress up with spices and other stuff we found in the fridge and pantry. We thought the artificial bacon bits that his mom had for her salads might help. Nope...all it did was turn the slurry a nice reddish-brown color. After an utterly disastrous taste-test, we dumped the offending mass in his backyard. A few days later, my buddy's dad was wondering why there was a dead spot on his lawn.