Got home late from work to find a relatively barren fridge. I knew I was in trouble when I closed to fridge door, only to see pained look of despair in my wife’s eyes: hunger had clearly set in and she was quickly moving towards hanger. Did I mention she was also 10 weeks pregnant?
I had maybe 10 minutes, 15 max, before full hanger had set in and I did not want to see that happen. Makes the Incredible Hulk look like a lamb.
To buy some time, I threw a pan on the stove even though I wasn’t even sure I would need it. I had to pretend like a I had a plan.
I another quick scan of the meager contents of the fridge. I had to find something quick yet satisfying. Salad with some day-old lettuce? Not going to cut it. A prosciutto sandwich? Damnit, no bread. I smiled nervously.
From the corner of my eye I saw my wife eyeing the pantry, which meant that she was about to pull the emergency cord and grab some cereal. She did not know we were out of milk.
Back in the corner of the fridge, I saw a couple tortillas left over from Margarita Shrimp Tacos I had recently made. In the other, there was also some shredded cheese. “QUESADILLA!” popped into my mind.
Cheese and bread of some sort is always a great combination, but I needed to make it more filling. That’s when I saw the little container with our daughter’s stash of grilled chicken breast cubes (a toddler staple).
So, yes, I stole my child’s lunch and chopped up the chicken breast. Sorry kid, papa needs to feed your mother. Trust me, it’s for the best.
The pan was hot by now and I dropped in one of the tortillas to let it heat. I added the chicken, a few chilies, salt, pepper and some chopped tomatoes. That’s all I had!
The stress levels had died down by now as there seemed to be a path a solution. I covered the quesadilla with the other remaining tortilla and put the tea kettle on top to encourage some cheese melting. Once the bottom has some nice color I flipped the quesadilla carefully and let heat on the other side.
Once I could tell the cheese was nice and melted I slid my dinner savior onto a cutting and cut into four wedges with confident whacks of the chef knife. My wife took a bit of the cheesy triangle and a breathed a sigh of relief.
We were in the clear. Hanger was averted.